28 Januar 2013

Excerpts. HannibalRising. ThomasHarris.


The door to Dr. Hannibal Lecter's memory palace is in the darkness at the center of his mind and it has a latch that can be found by touch alone. This curious portal opens on immense and well-lit spaces, early baroque, and corridors and chambers rivaling in number those of the Topkaki museum.
  Everywhere there exhibits, well-spaced and lighted, each keyed to memories that lead to other memories in geometric progression.
  Spaces devoted to Hannibal Lecter's earliest years differ from the other archives in being incomplete. Some are static scenes, fragmentary, like painted attic shards held together by blank plaster. Other rooms hold sound and motion, greater snakes wrestling and heaving in the dark and lit in flahses. Pleas and screaming fill some places on the grounds where Hannibal himself cannot go. But the corridors do not echo screaming, and there is music if you like.
  The palace is a construction begun early in Hannibal's student life. In his years of confinement, he improued and enlarged his palace, and its riches sustained him for long periods while wardens denied him his books.
  Here in the hot darkness of his mind, let us feel together for the latch. Finding it, let us elect for music in the corridors and, looking neither left nor right, go to the Hall of the Beginning where the displays are most fragmentary.
  We will add to them what we learned elsewhere, in war records and police records, from interviews and forensics and the mute postures of the dead. Robert Lecter's letters, recently unearthed, may help us establish the vital statistics of Hannibal, who altered dates freely to confound the authorities and his chroniclers. By our efforts, we may watch as the beast within turns from the teat and, working upwind, enters the world.

"This is the harvest," she said, smiling, putting her hand on his heart as she had done since he was thirteen years old. And then she took her hand away, and the place on his chest felt cold.
  "Do you really return your books?"
  "Yes."
  "Then you can remember everything in the books."
  "Everything important."

He rested his gloved hand lightly on the brain. Obssessed with memory and the blank places in his own mind, he wished that by touch he could read a dead man's dreams, that by force of will, he could explore his own.
  The laboratory at night was a good place to think, the quiet broken only by the clink of instruments and, rarely, the groan of a subject in an early stage of dissection, when organs might still contain some air.
  Hannibal performed a meticulous partial dissection of the left side of the face, then sketched the head, both the dissected side of the face and the untouched side as well, for the anatomical illustrations that were part of his scholarship.
  Now he wanted to permanently store in his mind the muscular, neural, and venous structures of the face. Sitting with his gloved hand on the head of his subject, Hannibal went to the center of his own mind and into the foyer of his memory palace. He elected for music in the corridors, a Bach string quartet, and passed quickly through the Hall of Mathematics, through Chemistry, to a room he'd adopted recently from the Carnavalet Museum and renamed the hall of the Cranium. It took only a few minutes to store everything, associating anatomical details with the set arrangement of displays in the Carnavalet, being careful not to put the venous blues of the face against blues in the tapestries.
  When he had finished in the Hall of the Cronium, the paused for a moment in the Hall of Mathematics, near the entrance. It was one of the oldest parts of the palace, in his mind. He wanted to treat himself to the feeling he got at the age of seven when he understood the proof Mr. Jakov showed him. All of Mr. Jakov's tutorial sesisons at the castle were stored there, but none of their talks from the hunting lodge.
  Everything from the hunting lodge was outside the memory palace, still on the grounds, but in the dark sheds of his dreams, scorched black like the hunting lodge, and to get there he would have to go outside. He would have to cross the snow where the ripped pages of Huyghens's Treatise on Light blew across Mr. Jakov's brains and blood, scattered and frozen to the snow.
  In these palace corridors, he could choose music or not, but in the sheds he could not control the sound, a particular sound there could kill him.
  He emerged from the memory palace back into his mind, came back behind his eyes and to his eighteen-year-old body, which sat beside the table in the anatomy laboratory, his hand upon a brain.
  He sketched for another hour. In his finished sketch, the veins and nerves of the dissected half of the face exactly reflected the subject on the table. The unmarked side of the face did not resemble the subject at all. It was a face from the sheds. It was the face of Vladis Grutas, though Hannibal only thought of him as Blue-Eyes.

  He crossed the footbridge to the Ile de la Cité and rounded the cathedral. Sounds of a choir practice came from Notre Dame.
  Hannibal paused beneath the arches of the center entrance, looking at the Last Judgement in relief on the arches and lintels above the door. He was considering it for a display in his memory palace, to record a complex dissection of the throat: There on the upper intel St. Michael held a pair of scales as though he himself were conducting on autopsy. St. Michael's scales were not unlike the hyoid bone, and he was overarched by the Saints of the Mastoid Process. The lower lintel, where the damned were being marched away in chains, would be the clavicle, and the succession of arches would serve as the structural layers of the thorat, to a catechism easy to remember,
  stennohyoid omohyoid thyrohyoid
  juuugular, amen.

Excerpt. Hannibal. ThomasHarris.


"Sir, you can't open this alcoholic beverage on the aircraft," the steardess said. "I'll hold it for you. You can calim it at the gate."
  "Of course. Thank you so much." Dr. Hannibal said.
  Dr. Lecter could overcome his surroundings. He could make it all go away. The beeping of the computer game, the snores and farts, were nothing compared to the hellish screaming he'd known in the violent wards. The seat was no tighter than restraints. As he had done in his cell so many times, Dr. Lecter put his head back, closed his eyes and retired for relief into the quiet of his memory palace, a place that is quite beautiful for the most part.
  For this little time, the metal cylinder howling westward against the wind contains a palace of a thousand rooms.
  As once we visited Dr. Lecter in the Palazzo of the Capponi, so we will go with him now into the palace of his mind dotdotdot
  The foyer is the Norman Chapel in Palermo, severe and beautiful and timeless, with a single reminder of mortality in the skull graven in the floor. Unless he is in a great hurry to retrieve information from the palace, Dr. Lecter often pauses here as he does now, to admire the chapel. Beyond it, far and complex, light and dark, is the vast structure of Dr. Lecter's making.
  The memory palace was a Mnemonic system well known to ancient scholars and much information was preserved in them through Dark Ages when vandals burned the books. Like scholars before him, Dr. Lecter stores an enormous amount of information keyed to objects in his thousand rooms, but unlike the ancients, Dr. Lecter has a second purpose for his palace; sometimes he lives there. He passed years among its exquisite collections, while his body lay bound on a violent ward with screams buzzing the steel bars like hell's own harp.
  Hannibal Lecter's palace is vast, even by medieval standard. Translated to the tangible world, it would rival the Topkakai palace in Istanbul for size and complexity.
  We catch up to him as the swift slippers of his mind pass from the foyer into the Great Hall of Seasons. The palace is built according to the rules discovered by Simonides of Ceos and elaborated by Cicero four hundred years later; [oversimplified History, as usual with Fictionwriters] it is airy, high-ceilinged, furnished with objects and tableaux that are vivid, striking, sometimes shocking and absurd, and often beautiful. The displays are well-spaced and well-lighted like those of a great museum. But the walls are not the neutral colors of museum walls. Like Giotto, Dr. Lecter has frescoed the walls of his mind.
  He has decided to pick up Clarice Starling's home address while he is in the palace, but he is in no hurry for it, so he stops at the foot of a great staircase where the Piace bronzes stand. These great bronze warriors attributed to Phidias, raised from the seafloor in our own time, are the centerpiece of frescoed space that could unspool all of Homer and Sophocles.
  Dr. Lecter could have the bronze faces speak Meleanger if he wished, but today he only wants to look at them.
  A thousand rooms, miles of corridors, hundreds of facts attached to each object furnishing each room, a pleasant respite awaiting Dr. Lecter whenever he chooses to retire there.
  But this we share with Dr. Lecter: In the vaults of our hearts and brains, danger waits. All the chambers are not lovely, light and high. There are holes in the floor of mind, like those in a medieval dungeon floor. The stinking oubliettes, named for forgetting, bottled shaped cells in solid rock with the trapdoor in the top. Nothing escapes from them quietly to ease us. A quake, some betrayal by our safeguards, and sparks of memory fire the noxious gases, things trapped for years fly free, ready to explode in pain and drives us to dangerous behaviour dotdotdot
  Fearfully and wonderfully made, we follow as he moves with a swift light stride along the corridor of his own making. Through a scent of gardeniads, the prescence of great sculpture pressing on us, and the light of picture.
  His way leads around to the right past a burst of Pliny and up the staircase to the Hall of Addresses, a room lined with statuary and paintings in a fixed order, spaced wide apart and well lit, as Cicero recommends.
  Ah dotdotdot The third alcove from the door on the right is dominated by a painting of St. Francis feeding a moth to a starling. On the floor before the painting is this tableau, life-sized in painted marble:
  A parade in Arlington, National Cemetery led by Jesus, thirty-three, driving a 1927 Model-T Ford. Truck, a "tin lizzie" with J. Edgar Hoover standing in the trunk bed wearing a tutu and waving to an unseen crowd. Marching behind him is Clarice Starling carrying a .308 Enfield rifle at shoulder arms.
  Dr. Lecter appears pleased to see Starling. Long ago, he obtained Starling's home address from the University of Virginia alumni association. He stores the address in this tableau, and now, for his own pleasure, he summons the numbers and the name of the street where Starling lives.
  3327 Tindal
  Arlington, VA 22308
  Dr. Lecter can move down the vast halls of his memory palace with unnatural speed. With his reflexes and strength, apprehension and speed of mind, Dr. Lecter is well armed against the physical world. But there are places within himself that he may not safely go where Cicero's rules of logic, of ordered space and do not apply dotdotdot
  He has decided to visit his collection of ancient textiles. For a letter he is writing to Mason Verger, he watns to review a text of Ovid on the subject of flavored facial oils which is attached to the weavings.
  He proceeds down an interesting flat-weave kilim runner toward the hall of looms and textiles.

25 Januar 2013

IMDb. Forum. DavidCaruso.

David Caruso Drinking Game
  by nrlang1986   (Sat Jan 5 2013 09:29:56)
Ignore this User | Report Abuse Reply

Hey Guys,

This game is really simple. Watch an episode of CSI: Miami. You have to drink every time he looks down, says something, then looks up. That's it. Forget the sunglasses. It's all about when he looks up.
This game could turn brutal very fast, so I'd steer clear of very potent liquor.

12 Januar 2013

Thoughts on Lincoln2012.

I completely disregard the (inevitable distortion of historical records) in Fiction). Let the morons discuss it. [Letters of Abraham Lincoln available at FondrenLibrary.]
Great movie.
Full advantage of AspectRatioTwoPointThreeFive
Great performance by DanielDayLewis, as Expected
"Invisible" editing, great editing
Within ten minutes, one can clearly feel that it will be a great movie.
Usual Spielberg lighting, strong light from outside, which transverses window.

10 Januar 2013

A fact on journalists who "play main-stream game".

If someone does not flatter them, journalists will attempt to demonise or slander them. e.g. StanleyKubrick. Evidence positively show that Kubrick had excellent rapport with his family and friends AND actors had great respect for him. There are several articles which has depicted him as cruel and "mad scientist"-like.

Thoughts on David Poland, YouTube ID TheHotButton.

I watched the first 30 seconds of his interview with JacquesAudiard. I seriously consider about obtaining his address and killing him. His fucking laughter disrupted my emotion for two days. I feel sorry for everyone who has contact with him.

08 Januar 2013

An important question on Freud.

Camille Paglia has also been influenced by Freud, whom she calls "Nietzsche's heir" and one of the greatest sexual psychologists in Literature, but has rejected the scientific status of his work in her Sexual Personae, writing, "Freud has no rivals among his successors because they think he wrote Science, when, in fact, he wrote Art." [It is exactly what I sometimes thought. Very important question.]


Jacques Rivette on influence in life.

-->
1.     When you see the films of certain young directors, you get the impression that Film History begins for them around 1980.
2.     Their films would probably be better if they'd seen a few more films, which runs counter to this idiotic theory that you run the risk of being influenced if you see too much. Actually, it's when you see too little that you run the risk of being influenced. [Mnemotechnique, JamesEllroy as a moron who thinks he knows everything.]
3.     If you see a lot, you can choose the films you want to be influenced by.
4.     Sometimes the choice is not conscious, but there are some things in life that are far more powerful than we are, and that affect us profoundly. [accurate]
5.     If I'm influenced by Hitchcock, Rossellini, or Renoir without realizing it, so much the better.
6.     If I do something sub-Hitchcock, I'm already very happy.
7.     Cocteau used to say: "Imitate, and what is personal will eventually come despite yourself." You can always try.

Woody Allen on Goodfellas1990.


Goodfellas was a great film. I felt that, when I sat there, in the theater, apart from the fact that. Again, it's an example of a superb director, making you feel him as a director. Because you are certainly aware of the [presence of the] director when you see that film. It's like you're there with those guys for the entire, two or three half hours, I don't know how long the film is. You're there with them. When they're sitting there those dives (?) when they're playing cards in the daytime. You're with them when they're with their wives. You're with them when they go and dig up bodies. Just you get the feeling through, I guess, the talent of the director. How, um, you know. That this is how it really is. He makes you feel that this is what it really is. It's funny, and harrowing, and informative, and beautifully ["]wrought["]. I just thought it was a great movie. Great American US movie.

Martin Scorsese on Goodfellas1990.


1.     The desire to make a picture like Goodfellas or certain aspects of MeanStreets, for example. I always felt that MeanStreets too, was the tradition of WarnerBrothersGangsterFilms, in a way. Goodfellas is a better example, because, mid-nineties, ninety-one, ninety, I think. And, we, uh, very simply trace the lineage right past, right to the forties of the ganster films by RaoulWalsh. Films coming out of WarnerBrothers. Particularly, TheRoaringTwenties. Down to the thirties, particularly, two films. Scarface and ThePublicEnemy. And Scarface, you have an interesting situation, where these characters, they're really despicable, but presented in such a way that you like them. That was the key. That was the first movie that I saw that made me realise, He has the same dillema I have, basically, because I grew up around a lot of these guys. They're not [at] all like PaulMuni or GeorgeRaft. More like HenryHill, where I grew up, in a way. And Paulie, for example, PaulVarrio, played by PaulSorvino. I understood that. I also understood it as human beings. I know that they came out of tradition, though, of outlaws, in a way, which is something very popular in American [US] culture. All the way back to 19th century. In fact, we take TheMusketeersinPigAlley by [DavidWark]Griffith. I even took it even further. But also, I took it even further. TheGreatTrainRobbery. They commit this great robbery, and, at the end, the police get them all, and somebody, the last shot, fire a gun right into the camera . That's why Joe Pesci character firing a gun at the end into the camera of Goodfellas. In the sense that, basically, Goodfellas, a bunch of outlaws, they do this incredible robbery, they all kill each other, and the police get [apprehend] them at the end. It's exactly the same story.
2.     (interrupted)
3.     Now, the first real gangster picture that I saw was ThePublicEnemy. My father took me to see that. It was on double-bill with LittleCaesar. LittleCaesar's good. I thought ThePublicEnemy was more truthful. Some people say it's crude, the way it's shot. But I don't think so. I don't think so. You never see the violence. It's always off-camera. And we understood. My father, he was basically, he was with those people. He was around them all the time. He grew up with them. He basically knew that was the truth. You can call him TomPowells. You can call him anything. Any ethnic [immigrant] name, up there. It's basically the same thing. It's basically the moment he tells his brother, "They pin medals on you for killing those Germans over there. You get medals and I get what? I'm not to be respected?" You understand? It's that kind of thinking, thinking of putting food on the table, protecting your family, then it goes out of control.
4.     (interrupted)
5.     It's very funny [What's funny?] because, I must say again, some of the best entertainment I had was listening to some guys on street corners and tell stories. Oral tradition. Self-deprecating, funny. Some of the toughest people I've ever seen do this, too. Tell stories with greatest humour about human nature that is so funny. Human nature, granted, under strange circumstances. Very odd, not your average circumstances. But still, get the humour out of it, bring humanity out of it was quite something, you know. Killing people. Robbing somebody's house. To hear some of these stories, humour, prison humour, in a way. I don't know what to say. Joe Pesci said one day, "Marty, they think your movie is funny in prison." Not audiences, regular convicts think they're funny. That's when I said, "Well, what do you want me to do?".But he, but you know, that's what it is. That's what the trick of that film was. The idea of that humour, in a way. I was exploring how I could still be endear to people like that, because I grew up around them. Yet I know what they do, you know. It's that economy. I can't bring the two together. Granted, in the film, the certain point, the minute they kill BillyBatts, FrankVincent, it's ["]down-hill["].
6.     (interrupted)
7.     I think I brought more of almost documentary attitues towards it. I wanted to show you the stars of the movie is the way of life, not a character. Somebody commented it was Scarface without Scarface, but that's what it is. We don't need Scarface in the film. It's the way of life. You grow up around that, what I wanted to show you was, The danger of exuberance of that kind of life, at first, you see. The danger of exuberance. The danger of excitement. When you're young, you think you're gonna live forever. You think you're tough. You can take few more shots in the head. You think you're tougher than the other person. Eventually, if you don't use your brain, you're not gonna ["]wind up["]  anywhere. That's what happens in the Joe Pesci character. I think the danger of the excitement of that life-style, what I grew up around, I saw a lot of people ["]disappear["] because of that.


List. Malapropism. TheSopranos.


1.     I'm reminded of Louis the Whatever's finance minister. The something. He built the château. Nicole and I saw it when we went to Paris. It even outshone Versales [Versailles], where the king lived. In the end, Louis clapped him in the eye.
2.     So, huh? This shit with Tony?/Total debacle. Pop's histestitory [?] doing anybody good, either./Anything you can do, change your father's mind./I'm gonna try, John. I came all the way up here for that./You put your sun block on?/So, as you know, dad, Tony Soprano came to visit me recently. I bought him dinner, we talked./I'm not sure I like it he did that end-run./He's an old-fashioned guy, pop. Very allegorical. [constituting or containing allegory, a story, poem, or picture that can be interpreted to reveal a hidden meaning, typically a Moral or Political one] I don't think it was his intention to insult anybody./You're distracting me. I'm taking a mulligan.
3.     Look at this./ Both Miami and // where we had our honeymoon. Nicole said, Let's buy it./You can just about smell the salt./You mean, the painting or the view?/Both./That's called the trunk pail of the oil. Fool the eye. It was done by an artist right over here in West-hamster. [West-hampton]
4.     The point that I'm trying to illustrate is that, of course no one wants an all-out conflict. But historically, historical changes come out of war. [unnecessary adverb]
5.     The fundamental question is, Will I be as effective as a boss like my dad was. And I will be. Even more so. But until I am, it's gonna be hard to verify that I think I'll be more effective. [Fallacy logical]
6.     You can't stay ["]holed up["] here. It's not healthy, Carmine./How'd I get to this? Retaliation, counter-attacks. What a fucking stagmire [quagmire].
7.     JT, I gotta warn you. I'm very ["]hands on["]. And they're not the hard way. I want to welcome all of you to the first meeting of possible investors on this project. Some of you know, I have nine pictures under my subspecies. [Taxonomic category that tanks below species, usually a fairly permanent geographically isolated race. Subspecies are designated by a Latin trinomial.] Four in the South Beach Trunket (?) series alone. Each with 30 000 plus DVDs in print. That being said, I usually find it helpful to stage it into to include my prospective clients to get your inputs, or notes, we call them.
8.     So there's a script?/We want to surmise [suppose that something is true without having evidence to confirm it] your interest, then tell the part to your specifities [specifications]. No one plays tough, ruthless, hard-hearted prick like you do.
9.     I won't call it a sit-down because of inclement [(of the weather) unpleasantly cold or wet] negative implications. Let's think of it as a meeting of minds. For whatever reasons, certain incidents have expired [(of a document, authorisation, or agreement) cease to be valid, typically after a fixed period of time] lately in addition to being dangerous adverse impact on our respective bottom lines.
10. If one thing my father taught me, it's this: A pint of blood costs more than a gallon of gold. [A gallon of blood costs more than a pint of gold.]
11. Welcome to the premier of [the movie] Cleaver. The story of young man goes pieces, manages to find himself again. In all seriousness, however, I'd like to say a few words. Much like a child, a film has many parents. That is to say, many individuals who act like parents. Or that by diversion [an instance of turning something aside from its course OR an activity that diverts the mind from tedious or serious concerns; a recreation or pastime], film is their baby.
12. Dad, that was neat at the end. Creepy figure in the crucifix./Glad you caught that, Alexandra. Very observant. The sacred and the propane [profane].
13. One night around then, I had this dream. It's my pop's hundredth birthday even though he's been dead for years. The whole family's there. Grand-kids, everybody. He's wearing one of those gold paper crowns like a bourbon. Anyway, I give him this present. This mellifluous [(of a voice or words) sweet or musical; pleasant to hear.] box. Ribbons.
14. So, the reason I'm here. You can probably guess./What happened in Coco's restaurant./This alteration [altercation] you had with him. You're at the precipice [a very steep rock face or cliff, typically a tall one], Tony, of an enormous crossroad.
15. Wasn't that the meteor?/They're all meat eaters./Meteor. Meteor.
16. My friends have abandoned me. I've been fucking ostrified. [ostracised]
17. You know what they say. Revenge is like serving cold cuts./I think it's, Revenge is dish served best cold./That's what I said.
18. She's an albacore [albatross, a source of frustration or guilt; an encumbrance (in allusion to Coleridge's TheRimeOfTheAncientMariner)]] around my neck.
19. I agree with that Senator Sanitorium. [Who?] He says, if we let this stuff go too far, pretty soon we'll be fucking dogs.
20. A guy like that is going out with a woman, he could technically [wrong word] not have penis-sary [penile, of, relating to, or affecting the penis] contact with her Volvo. [vulva, the female external genitals]
21. There's no stigmata [stigma, a mark of disgrace associated with a particular circumstance, quality, or person] connected with going to a shrink.
22. We're going to create a little dysentery [infection of the intestines resulting in sever diarrhea with the presence of blood and mucus in the feces] in the ranks.
23. You know, Sung Tizzoo. [Sun-tzu] The Chinese Prince Matchabelli [Machiavelli].
24. What with the passing of Vito Senior and all that entrails [plural noun, a person or animal's intestines or internal organs, esp. when removed or exposed.] [entails, involve something as a necessary or inevitable part or consequence]
25. I was prostate [devastated] with grief.
26. Luke Abrazzi sleeps with the fishes./Luca Brasi. Luca Brasi.
27. World really went ["]down-hill["] after the WorldTradeCenter [collapsed]. You know, Quasimodo [Nostradamus] predicted all of this./Who did what?/All these problems, the Middle East. The end of the world./Nostradamus. Quasimodo's the Hunchback of Notre Dame./Oh, right. Notredamus./Nostradamus and Notre Dame. That's two different things completely./It's interesting, though, they'd be so similar, isn't it? And I always thought, "Okay, Hunchback of Notre Dame. You also got your quarterback and your halfback of Notre Dame"./One's a fucking cathedral./Obviously, I know. I'm just saying. It's interesting, the coincidence. What, you're gonna tell me you never pondered that? ["]The back thing["] with Notre Dame?/No.

06 Januar 2013

Excerpt. Transcript. The Test Dream, The Sopranos.


1.     Source,WikiPedia.
2.     In the beginning of the dream, he awakens next to the deceased Carmine Lupertazzi who tells Tony how lonely he is on "the other side" and how he misses his wife.
3.     Tony then receives a phone call and is told by the voice that he needs to kill somebody.
4.     Next, Tony is sitting in Dr. Melfi's office, but instead of Dr. Melfi, he is counseled by his deceased ex-comàre Gloria Trillo who talks about their toxic relationship and how she died too young to have children of her own.
5.     She then points to a television set in the corner and says, "Are you ready for what you have to do?" Tony then finds himself riding in the backseat of his father's 1959 Cadillac Eldorado, being driven by his long deceased father Johnny Boy Soprano; also in the car are several deceased characters who have either died by his hand or on his orders, including Big Pussy Bonpensiero, Richie and Mikey Palmice.
6.     When Tony looks at Mikey and tells him he knows he's dreaming, Mikey replies simply, "I got no opinion. One way or the other."
7.     Mikey briefly turns into Artie Bucco who simply looks at Tony and asks, "What?"
8.     When Tony asks where they are going, Pussy, who has now turned into Ralph, turns around and says, "We're driving you to the job," as they pull up to Tony's mansion.
9.     The next segment of his dream involves him waking up at home and getting ready to go to dinner to meet Finn's parents at Nuovo Vesuvio, and Tony distractedly watching clips from several films on the kitchen television.
10. When they finally arrive, Finn's father is actually Detective Vin Makazian, who committed suicide in the first season, but is posing as Finn's father in the dream. Annette Bening, who plays herself, is Finn's mother in the dream.
11. Finn occasionally turns into A.J. during the course of the dinner.
12. Next, Tony's teeth fall out spontaneously. After some symbolic interaction between everyone, Tony and Finn's father go to the restroom.
13. When Tony enters the bathroom stall, he reaches behind the vintage style toilet tank looking for a gun which is not there, an allusion to the The Godfather.
14. Vin then asks Tony, "Are you gonna be able to come through on the thing?" Tony replies, "I did my homework," reaches into his pocket, and takes out a paperback copy of The Valachi Papers.
15. Then, Tony hears shots firing outside and sees Tony B. shooting Phil Leotardo in his car. A bystander shouts, "Why didn't you stop him?"
16. He says he doesn't have a weapon, It suddenly turns into night and Tony begins running from an angry mob, including Annette Bening (who was blatantly identified by Gloria Trillo, now apparently a reporter) and Carmela; some of the mob carrying torches and pitchforks, a la Frankenstein.
17. Tony begins running down a long, dark alley, and Lee Harvey Oswald shoots at him from a third floor window.
18. At the end of the alley an ominous SUV is idling, playing rap music.
19. Suddenly Artie Bucco pops out of a near by door, and he and Tony escape together, again in his fathers old car.
20. Tony looks in the backseat and sees the deceased Richie Aprile and Gigi Cestone, two former Aprile Crew capos who had met their demise shortly after taking control of the "cursed" crew.
21. Tony is then suddenly having wild sex with Artie's wife Charmaine Bucco, who is sucking Tony's thumb and is kinkily dressed in black silk stockings, garters and lingerie while Artie oddly coaches him along; it is another ironic symbol in the dream because she and Tony slept together in real life back in high school while Tony was still dating Carmela.
22. Artie then tells Tony that "she likes it when you rub her muzzle,"
23. After which the dream jumps suddenly to Tony then appearing in his living room mounted on top of Pie-O-My, the ill-fated racehorse that was put to sleep after being severely burnt in the barn fire, and Tony is rubbing her neck. He tells Carmela he wants to move back in.
24. Carmela replies by repeating her response when A.J. asked to move back home: "There are some non-negotiable conditions."
25. In this case, the horse can no longer stay in the house since Tony never cleans up after it, in this case the horse represents his girlfriends and mistresses and how, if he and Carmela reconcile, they can no longer affect her or the family's lives.
26. Several of the characters in his dream eventually make it clear that Tony's job is to kill his cousin to prevent Tony B. from starting a war between Tony's family and Johnny Sack's crew.
27. Tony's last encounter in his dream is at his former high school from the football coach, Coach Molinaro.
28. The coach criticizes Tony, pointing out how Tony had "all the perquisites (sic) to lead young men on to the field of sport" and how he didn't have to be a criminal and live with all the stress the comes from that.
29. When Tony tries to kill Molinaro, his gun malfunctions and the coach continues to taunt him about not being prepared until Tony awakens with a start.

1.     I know you're there, Soprano. Well, come on, you're gonna do it, do it.
2.     Well look at you.
3.     How you doing, Coach Molinaro?
4.     Me, I'm fine. What's that you got there? Bigger dingus [penis] than the one God gave you? You dumb-ass.
5.     You know, you ought to show some respect.
6.     Why?
7.     Because I'm not some kid anymore.
8.     No.

9.     What did I tell you? Cleave yourself away from those bums you hang with, I said.
10. I'm in therapy now.
11. That's a damn shame.
12. You all listened to that piss-mire, Arthur Bucco. He was the worst of the bunch, I told you that.
13. Artie owns a restaurant. He's doing great.
14. Bucco?
15. Yeah.
16. So what? Exception that proves the rule.
17. You know everything, don't you?

18. I suppose you blame it on your father when you cry to that shrink of yours.
19. No, more my mother.
20. Of course. Even better.
21. Well, my family was different from other kid's family.
22. I'll bet that you got that psychologist ["]wrapped around your finger["].
23. That's what you always told me what I was good at, right?

24. I also told you, most likely, you'd ["]take the easy way out["].
25. It hasn't been easy.
26. I see you on TV.
27. Oh, yeah?
28. Some show you put on. Five o'clock news.
29. Then you realise I got nothing to apologise to you for. I am a leader. Got a house worth million and two. Two kids, wife.
30. Do you?
31. Do I what?
32. Have a wife?
33. Yeah. She's got the big house because I'm successful.
34. You and I know your little secret.
35. No. I only told you I wanted to be a coach because I liked to play ball. I was just ["]shining you on["] because that's what I do with people.
36. I told you many times, Anthony, you were special. You had ["]smarts["], personality, leadership potential. All the perquisites to lead young men into sports. Now, look at the stress you live with.
37. You're not prepared. You'll never shut me up.