Reminder: this is a video, which is awesome, of a song, which is also awesome.
Some roads you wouldn’t go down because maps used to say, “here, there be dragons”. Now they don’t.
But that doesn’t mean the dragons aren’t there.
sometimes i feel like i’m already gone/ahead and i’m just vividly remembering everything that’s happening in the moment… sometimes everything feels too familiar to be just happening for the first time.
He was thirsty. He died of thirst.
God save us, everyone;
Will we burn inside the fires of a thousand suns?
—The Requiem / The Catalyst
This guy is fucking incredible. Amazing outlook on life and ridiculously funny to boot.
Best part? The comments will affirm your belief in humanity, not destroy it.
Life is right here with these people.
Top: Fringe. Season 2, episode 19, “The Man From the Other Side.”
Bottom: LOST. A deleted scene from “Exodus, Part 2,” in which Claire and the Oceanic 815 pilot (Greg Grunberg) chat in the airport before the flight takes off.
The Fringe scene takes place in Walter’s lab at Harvard, and they realize that the previous night, a TV signal from the alternate universe briefly came across the airwaves of their universe. This brief signal contains a quick shot of this deleted scene from LOST.
This suggests that when LOST aired in the alternate universe, the deleted scenes were included. You’ll also notice that the two shots contain one minor difference; in the alternate universe, the pilot has his coffee in his left hand, but carries it in his right hand in the deleted scene, so I guess they went with a different take of the scene in the alternate universe.
Shoutout to Ben for finding this!
Exhibit A for why I love Bad Robot and will one day work for / with them.
Location: 4379 Walker Rd, Windsor, Ontario, N8W 3T6, Canada. The week of November 21st, 2005.
“At times I suffer from the strangest sense of detachment from myself and the world about me; I seem to watch it all from the outside, from somewhere inconceivably remote, out of time, out of space, out of the stress and tragedy of it all. This feeling was very strong upon me that night.”
I was standing in front of the counter at Best Buy. The one closest to both the wall and the doorway. Northwesterly, one might call it.
It’s funny how unbelievably clear that fact still is in my mind.
In my hands was a DVD (gasp!) of Steven Spielberg’s War of the Worlds - a film I’ve since come to half-disown from the canon of Wells adaptations.
You see, at the time, I was in the midst of my peak fascination with Wells as an author. I’d read Worlds, and perhaps The Invisible Man and The Island of Doctor Moreau - for all my recollective gifts, I can’t for the life of me remember in which order I read the Holy Four.
[It would, however, be another eight months before I’d have my run-in with The Time Machine, the book which changed everything. My dual-language (French-English, in that order) paperback, pulled out of the bottom rack of a Normandie thrift shop (picked up the very same day as the now-infamous Hunter/Hunted painting - that was a busy day), would go on to be the only book, ever, that I would read cover to cover - twice - in a 36 hour period.]
But at the time, I was just a kid with a vague interest in cinema, a keen interest in classic science-fiction, and an inarticulate urge to be a writer - something which wasn’t going particularly well. I’d been trying to write a novel (a terrible, terrible novel) and found that I had neither the inclination nor patience for the medium.
So I walked up to the counter, and I handed the employee my copy of the DVD.
"Oh," she exclaimed. "You’re supposed to get a free gift when you buy this movie."
And so, from beneath the desk, she produced a book. A book I still own to this day. She thrust it forward onto the desk, and I lifted it.
I still remember looking down at the cover. The feeling of it. The lightness of the pages. The shine of the title:
War of the Worlds: The Shooting Script. By Josh Friedman and David Koepp.
It was like being struck my lightning.
Somehow, my brain had never made the connection that screenplays were a thing that existed. That movies were something that were written. That there was a whole medium I’d never considered before.
Even with all the years of writing The Master of the Ring with Bon, I’d never really thought about it.
I flipped through the pages. Saw the way it was structured for the first time.
Something inside my brain clicked that day, and it never un-clicked. I decided on the drive home that this was what I was going to do with my life.
I still think it’s funny that a script as bad as War of the Worldsis what convinced me to do it.
My journey to being a writer has three, distinct milestones. This was the third and final one.
And now you know why it’s so difficult for me to be hard on David Koepp.
You don’t see movies like this everyday. You don’t see movies like this ever. That’s not nothing.
Seitz, on NOAH.
I think this says it all.