Modesty Contest

Gurney Halleck was exhausted. At the behest of his master, he had spent the last two lunar cycles sweeping sietchs in the southern regions of Arrakis. Many Sardaukar legions remained scattered across the planet, still loyal to the now dead House Harkonnen. They had clearly not received communications from their squadron leaders, alerting them to the fact that the planet was lost to the mighty House Atreides. It was gruelling work, slaughtering those who would not kneel to Muad'Dib. The previous day he had flayed a Burseg general atop a steep mountain where no worm could reach them, amplified so that remaining stragglers could hear his screams of pain. The Burseg had been tied to a post and whipped until there was little flesh left to his back. He was then executed and disembowelled. Parts of his body were strewn about the area for remaining warriors to discover. Gurney winced at the gruesome nature of such an act, but told himself it was but necessary to eliminate the

Pit was in an elated mood. It was the winter of 1888 in London. A light snow had covered the city yet thick soot continued to live on the surface of everything in the place. Pit hefted the full sack of dry goods on his shoulder and darted across the wet cobblestone street as carriages zipped by, drivers screaming obscenities of the most heinous order as they burst through the settling fog. An urchin wretched in the gutter, hot green slime splattering the filthy stone basin. A shopkeeper across the way opened his door and peeked out onto the increasingly busy road. As the fog grew thicker and the church rang 7 bells in the distance, Pit cut south down the alleyway off Leicester Street.  He bound up the staircase and slipped the key into the lock while twisting the handle, all in one fluid motion. He closed the door softly and winced when he thought of the time. Quickly he filled the kettle and placed it on the stove. He set the basket of scones near the fire to warm. A

CONVENIENCE  And so he sat. He sat in the convenience store, lights off, staring straight ahead, mouth agape. The cat played idly on the large front sill of the display window, rolling and clawing at her toy, as sun shone through the dusty window. The air was still and musty. Without much movement, a fine layer of silt had settled on everything. His jaw had mostly healed, but the store remained a complete wreck. The candy display was toppled, packets of chewing gum and chocolate bars scattered on the dirty linoleum floor. The small shelf near the fridge lay on its side, dirty cans of soup here and there. The fridge was dark and still, no erratic hum of the near-broken motor, now holding only terribly rancid milk and cream. Regular customers pounded on the door and windows, yelling for cigarettes, chips, sodas. Delivery men knocked at the rear, their carts loaded with goods that would never be delivered into the store. The phone rang and rang. And he continued to sit up

In which we discuss a deleted scene from the Jim Jarmusch movie Dead Man... Here is the scene: DIALOGUE: Conway Twill:  Anyhow, getting back to the beginning of the story, my grandaddy came over from Scotland, you see, he was actually part of the Muttwill clan, I believe the clan tartan was a kind of a gold and purple if I remember correctly, never wore one myself. Dropped the mutt part of the name when he came out west on account of he figured it'd getting him more work and all. Well, he sure was a lovely gentlemen, our grandaddy. Hey, how bout your family there, Cole? Lemme guess. Kinda figured you for a German? I mean, amiright? Am I close? Austrian? I mean it's all about stillness and motion, I mean, in the end. Stillness being a woman thing, you know? I dunno, motion being about us. Goddamnit, the hell do we know in the end anyway? All that moving about. Christ, it's all just about a home really. Stillness to you of course is never ever opening

PAINLESS 2/9/2012 Open on a wide shot of the jungle (Amazon) in which we see a group of native women gathering plants and roots in a clearing. They are focused on the task and do not speak to one another. Night begins to fall and they collect their goods and return to camp. The tribe is excited, it is an important day; the women begin to grind the plants between stones as the men are painted in ceremonial fashion. Five of the strongest men gather weapons (one short spear, one small knife). Drums begin to beat; The women continue to pound at the herbs, rhythmically they begin chanting along with the drums. The substance they are preparing is done. The men line up (5 men), single file to receive blessings. The greenish-black substance is applied to face, head and mouth by the women. The men chew the mash and hold it in their lower lip a la chewing tobacco. The drum beat swells and stops.

THE OTHER SON PART II  (Link to Part I) As Abiah convalesced, he saw many things.  A mountain in flames. A sea churning with oily creatures. A goat with the head of a snake. The sky raining putrid flesh. The siren would appear and comfort him. As he writhed in his condition, she would caress his wounds.  She would whisper to him of the world as it grew and molt. Tribes were fractured and frayed, pillage and rape were rife. Humanity cried out for salvation in despair.  The siren sang and spoke of a great devotion. Not unto God, but unto love. The love of fellow earthly entities, beast and man alike. Upon the siren's breast shone a silver "T" that radiated with such strength that it burnt Abiah's eyes. As Abiah marvelled at the shining spectre, she would sing: "Joy is not the same for thee as it twas and whilst for me Love is shared by all As we rise we will fall Sweetest love, I do not go For weariness