Hey guess what! Not to demean or trivilialize a tragic event but I watched United 93 the other day and I was intrigued by the scene where the hijacked passengers turned the tables on the terrorists and went on the attack. A scene from the film depicts a large man (identified in the credits as Todd Beamer) braining a terrorist with, guess what, a red fire extinguisher.
The film was totally enthralling and you hoped for a happy ending but you knew it would never happen having prior knowledge of the tragic events of 9/11. At least a couple of fanatical jihadists got theirs.
I wasn't even looking for fire-extinguishers but I can't get them out of my head. I blame you entirely.
Both films are excellent and I used to own them but I eventually sold them in one of my DVD purges. I will have to re-acquaint myself with 'Flight 93'.
I comfort myself with the thought that the perpetrators of this outrage have NOT gone to their own particular heaven, been glad-handed by their god and been presented (each) with 73 luscious virgins (their reward for martyrdom) but instead have gone to the other place where a few dozen pox-raddled whores await them.
Twart - I've just realised who you were refering to by 'Sledgehammer!' - great series that. Did you see The show Robert 'Napoleon Solo' Vaugh hosted called Danger Theater? There was a character very similar to Sledge in 'The Searcher' really funny spoof. Of course like all US shows that actualy are funny, it only had a cult status.
Cookie - ixnay on the oliticspay please - If I dwell on it I get very depressed and impose exhaustive monologues about how I think the world should be run. Must... fight... urge... rising... (takes well worn soap box from cupboard)
Mind you, politicians are worthy of scorn. Ed Milliband looks like he's been squeezed from a tube and that other guy, you know, don't be vague ask for ...hmmm, oh yeah, William Hague, an individual as charismatic as a bowl of tapioca and as irritating as terminal piles; when he speaks he sounds like he's on helium. God! I hate them, the whole sorry pack of them. Tony Blair doing deals with his mate Gordon Brown so that he can step in when he bails out and all the others on the fiddle who, when caught out, express all the sincerity and contrition of a televangelist caught in-flagrante with one of their flock. Recently a leading MP (who's name eludes me) was caught making false claims on his property. A colleague speaking after the resignation of this MP extolled his virtues and praised him to the skies saying what a man of upstanding character he was. Just about sums it up. Honour among thieves or what? Oh! I forgot to mention the female MP - who lost her seat at a recent party by-election - who submitted an expenses claim for her husbands pornographic videos. Their mendacity is writ large on their faces and their dialogue reeks of carefully-contrived and artfully-crafted weasel-words aimed at gulling the unwary into supporting their miserable hides in their personal quest for self-aggrandisement. Heah! Heah!
The horror! The Horror! Kill them all! Kill them now!
very badly I suspect... but then; at what point does cautious suspicion become irrational paranoia?
... and while I'm at it, to all you people of a certain delusional religious persuasion. I would help the credibility of the notion you are trying to get me to subscibe to if you didn't send representatives to my door barely able to shave, labled 'Elders'. Not that it would have made a great deal of difference - I may have been a little more apologetic about the door slamming...
I agree with you entirely. Being a recent convert to the writings of Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens (The God Delusion and God Is Not Great) I find it annoying when religious adherents, blatantly ignoring the 'No Selling' and 'We Dont Buy At The Door' signs attempt a doorstep conversion. I don't slam the door in their face but simply tell them I'm not interested.
I'm a non-believer but I console myself with the fact that, as there are only a finite number of atoms in the universe, I will eventually be recycled as something else after I die.
In the words of Bill Bryson: every part of me 'will be nibbled or sluiced away'.
Eventually my atoms could become part of the world's greatest humanitarian, the most notorious serial killer or a desperate wannabe on the X-Factor.