Date: Tue, 9 May 1995 23:16:31 +0200
From: [email protected] (Peter van Aarle)
Subject: Re: (Fwd) Re: SCRIPT: Some thoughts
Ron wrote in a message dated 95/05/09, 16:00
>Forwarded message:
>Date: Mon, 8 May 1995 16:17:47 -0500
>From: Heretic
>Subject: Re: SCRIPT: Some thoughts
>
[snip]
>BTW, I was reading thought the X-rated Videotape Guide (vol 2) in the store
>the other day and came across the film 'Sunset Boulevard' Has anyone see
>this and the original? I'm just curious how well (if at all) they
>translated the story into porn. Of course you can't do 'porn noir' The
>whole crux of noir is that the sex(along with drugs) was sublimated because
>of 'the Code'
You can always trust Bob Rimmer to get it wrong ;-)
First of all, the correct title is Sinset Boulevard (and no I haven't seen
the original Gloria Swanson version).
Second, his review states: "...it begins with Mike Horner floating inthe
swimming pool, dead. Posthumously he tells his story"
That's wrong! Yes, he floats, but he isn't dead (you only find out at the
end of the movie of course...
It's actually not a bad movie. Mike is a starving porn script writer (oh,
oh that doesn't sound good for us ;-) in the future (2011), with Jerry
Falwell as president of the US (yeah, this was made in 1987 during the
Meese years).
Shanna McCulogh rejet Mike's latest script (but pays him to fuck her). Than
she give him a job (since he obviously is a lousy scriptwriter). Due to the
restrictive climate porn can not be distributed by mail or UPS, so Mike is
given a bicycle and a basket of porn tapes to deliver :-)
He delivers a package to Rachel Ryan, which contains her favourite 80's movies.
she looks familiar, and Mike finally remembers she was a big name porn star
in those 80's. But she still doesn't look a day over 30!!
She invites him to watch one of her old movies with her and John Leslie who
is now her butler and used to be her director (see, there is hope for Bud
Lee yet ;-)
Anyway she tells Mike she and John have found the fountain of youth (which
turns out to be having multiple orgasms at the stroke of midnight :-/ )
But John has trouble satisfying this need everynight, and she offers Mike a
position to help her achieve those orgasms. He does so, but decides he
doesn't want to do this for all eternity. Rachel insists she needs him and
when he refuses she shoots him and he ends up facedown in the pool so we
are back where we started in the movie.
But then Mike rises from the water and tells the camera something like "You
don't think I'd really pass up on this sort of life, did you?" Which I
agree is slightly strange if he really was shot by Rachel. Maybe they
didn't want a gruesome end...
--
Everyone needs to believe in something. I believe I'll have another beer.
Peter van Aarle ([email protected])
169 “I can arrange all that.” Such Apaches as had not gone back on the war-path returned to the States with the troops; but there were five months more of the outrages of Geronimo and his kind. Then in the summer of the year another man, more fortunate and better fitted to deal with it all, perhaps,—with the tangle of lies and deceptions, cross purposes and trickery,—succeeded where Crook had failed and had been relieved of a task that was beyond him. Geronimo was captured, and was hurried off to a Florida prison with his band, as far as they well could be from the reservation they had refused to accept. And with them were sent other Indians, who had been the friends and helpers of the government for years, and who had run great risks to help or to obtain peace. But the memory and gratitude of governments is become a proverb. The southwest settled down to enjoy its safety. The troops rested upon the laurels they had won, the superseded general went on with his work in another field far away to the north. The new general, the saviour of the land, was heaped[Pg 305] with honor and praise, and the path of civilization was laid clear. Parliament met on the 10th of January, 1765. The resentment of the Americans had reached the ears of the Ministry and the king, yet both continued determined to proceed. In the interviews which Franklin and the other agents had with the Ministers, Grenville begged them to point to any other tax that would be more agreeable to the colonists than the stamp-duty; but they without any real legal grounds drew the line between levying custom and imposing an inland tax. Grenville paid no attention to these representations. Fifty-five resolutions, prepared by a committee of ways and means, were laid by him on the table of the House of Commons at an early day of the Session, imposing on America nearly the same stamp-duties as were already in practical operation in England. These resolutions being adopted, were embodied in a bill; and when it was introduced to the House, it was received with an apathy which betrayed on all hands the profoundest ignorance of its importance. Burke, who was a spectator of the debates in both Houses, in a speech some years afterwards, stated that he never heard a more languid debate than that in the Commons. Only two or three persons spoke against the measure and that with great composure. There was but one division in the whole progress of the Bill, and the minority did not reach to more than thirty-nine or forty. In the Lords, he said, there was, to the best of his recollection, neither division nor debate! His cheek paled for an instant as the thought obtruded that the man might resist and he have to really shoot him. "Good, the old man's goin' to take the grub out to 'em himself," thought the Deacon with relief. "He'll be easy to manage. No need o' shootin' him." "Them that we shot?" said Shorty carelessly, feeling around for his tobacco to refill his pipe. "Nothin'. I guess we've done enough for 'em already." John Dodd, twenty-seven years old, master, part of the third generation, arranged his chair carefully so that it faced the door of the Commons Room, letting the light from the great window illumine the back of his head. He clasped his hands in his lap in a single, nervous gesture, never noticing that the light gave him a faint saintlike halo about his feathery hair. His companion took another chair, set it at right angles to Dodd's and gave it long and thoughtful consideration, as if the act of sitting down were something new and untried. "Besides," Norma said desperately, "they're only rumors—" "Oh, I've found a way of gitting shut of them rootses—thought of it while I wur working at the trees. I'm going to blast 'em out." During the next ten years the farm went forward by strides. Reuben bought seven more acres of Boarzell in '59, and fourteen in '60. He also bought a horse-rake, and threshed by machinery. He was now a topic in every public-house from Northiam to Rye. His success and the scant trouble he took to conciliate those about him had made him disliked. Unprosperous farmers[Pg 124] spoke windily of "spoiling his liddle game." Ditch and Ginner even suggested to Vennal that they should club together and buy thirty acres or so of the Moor themselves, just to spite him. However, money was too precious to throw away even on such an object, especially as everyone felt sure that Backfield would sooner or later "bust himself" in his dealings with Boarzell. "Let's go home," she said faintly—"it's getting late."