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Kade 2022-03-26 09:01:06
don't like this...
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Madisyn 2022-03-26 09:01:06
This is kind of hard to...
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Destin 2022-03-26 09:01:06
Only understand at the end. ....
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Clyde 2022-03-26 09:01:06
Your sister's turned out to be a cartoon pass...
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Maryam 2022-03-26 09:01:06
Science fiction plus philosophy, some can't stand...
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Emerson 2022-03-26 09:01:06
Too many lines, I slept to...
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Jeromy 2022-03-26 09:01:06
Rely on special effects to attract the audience, and leave after visual...
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Brain 2022-03-26 09:01:06
Dare to talk more...
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Cassandre 2022-03-26 09:01:06
To be honest, I don't...
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Krista 2022-03-26 09:01:06
The screen is a bit...
A Scanner Darkly Comments
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Selmer 2022-03-21 09:01:59
that kind of movie
As a RADIOHEAD fan, I rushed to this movie recklessly towards RADIOHEAD and barrel wood waist.
Before watching the movie, I specially pulled the movie to the end to see the final introduction of SOUNDTRACK.
When I saw that it was all songs from the new album THE ERASER and radiohead, I was... -
Adolf 2022-03-22 09:01:54
love and hate blue flowers
"What do I have to do to catch that person? You can send her flowers. Any flower shop can buy flowers this season. Send her little blue flowers." The doctor's psychological suggestion made Arter pick it up unconsciously on the farm. A small blue flower was tucked into the trousers. He thought it...
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[Freck turns on the radio]
Freck Suicide Narrator: Charles Freck, becoming progressively more and more depressed by what was happening around him, decided, finally, to off himself. There was no problem in the circles where he hung out in putting an end to yourself. You just bought a large quantity of downers and took them with some cheap wine. The planning part had to do with the artifacts he wanted found on him by later archeologists. He had spent several days deciding, much longer than he had spent deciding to kill himself. He would be found lying on his back, on his bed, with a copy of Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead and an unfinished letter to Exxon, protesting the cancellation of his gas credit card. That way, he would indite the system, and achieve something by his death, over and above what the death itself achieved. At the last moment, he changed his mind on a decisive issue and decided to drink the pills with a connoisseur wine, instead of Ripple or Thunderbird. So he set off on one last drive, over to Tiny's Liquors, which specialized in fine wines, and bought a bottle of 2001 Azalea Springs Merlot, which set him back almost seventy dollars. Back home again, he uncorked the wine, let it breathe, drank a few glasses of it, tried to think of something meaningful but could not, and then, with a glass of Merlot, gulped down all the pills at once. However, he had been burned. Instead of quietly suffocating, Charles Freck began to hallucinate. The next thing he knew, a creature from between dimensions was standing beside his bed, looking down at him disapprovingly.
Freck: You gonna read me my sins?
[Creature nods]
Freck: Eh, it's gonna take a hundred thousand hours.
Creature: Your sins will be read to you ceaselessly, in shifts, throughout eternity. The list will never end.
Creature: [starts reading] "The Sins of Freck"
Freck Suicide Narrator: Charles Freck wished he could take back the last half hour of his life.
Creature: [Creature continues to read] "... theft of fingernail clippers..." "... you did knowingly and with malice..." "... punched your baby sister, Evelyn..." "... December, theft of Christmas presents..." "... one billion lies..."
Freck Suicide Narrator: One thousand years later, they had reached the sixth grade, the year he had discovered masturbation.
Creature: [Creature continues to read] "... November fourteenth, Percodan... Vicodin... Cocaine..."
Freck Suicide Narrator: Charles Freck thought, "At least I got a good wine."
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Bob Arctor: The pain, so unexpected and undeserved had for some reason cleared away the cobwebs. I realized I didn't hate the cabinet door, I hated my life... My house, my family, my backyard, my power mower. Nothing would ever change; nothing new could ever be expected. It had to end, and it did. now in the dark world where I dwell, ugly things, and surprising things, and sometimes little wondrous things, spill out in me constantly, and I can count on nothing.
