The Doors - Hello, I love you

Hello, I love you Won't you tell me your name? Hello, I love you Let me jump in your game She's walking down the street Blind to every eye she meets Do you think you'll be the guy To make the queen of the angels sigh?

She holds her head so high Like a statue in the sky Her arms are wicked, and her legs are long When she moves my brain screams out this song Sidewalk crouches at her feet Like a dog that begs for something sweet Do you hope to make her see, you fool? Do you hope to pluck this dusky jewel?

Simon & Garfunkel - Bridge over troubled water

When you're weary, feeling small When tears are in your eyes I will dry them all I'm on your side When times get rough And friends just can't be found Like a bridge over troubled water I will lay me down When you're down and out When you're on the street When evening falls so hard I will comfort you I'll take your part When darkness comes And pain is all around Like a bridge over troubled water I will ease your mind

Sail on silvergirl Sail on by Your time has come to shine All your dreams are on their way See how they shine If you need a friend I'm sailing right behind Like a bridge over troubled water I will ease your mind

Vincent

Vincent Malloy is seven years old He’s always polite and does what he’s told For a boy his age, he’s considerate and nice But he wants to be just like Vincent Price He doesn’t mind living with his sister, dog and cats Though he’d rather share a home with spiders and bats There he could reflect on the horrors he’s invented And wander dark hallways, alone and tormented Vincent is nice when his aunt comes to see him But imagines dipping her in wax for his wax museum He likes to experiment on his dog Abercrombie In the hopes of creating a horrible zombie So he and his horrible zombie dog Could go searching for victims in the London fog His thoughts, though, aren’t only of ghoulish crimes He likes to paint and read to pass some of the times While other kids read books like Go, Jane, Go! Vincent’s favourite author is Edgar Allan Poe One night, while reading a gruesome tale He read a passage that made him turn pale Such horrible news he could not survive For his beautiful wife had been buried alive! He dug out her grave to make sure she was dead Unaware that her grave was his mother’s flower bed His mother sent Vincent off to his room He knew he’d been banished to the tower of doom Where he was sentenced to spend the rest of his life Alone with the portrait of his beautiful wife While alone and insane encased in his tomb Vincent’s mother burst suddenly into the room She said: “If you want to, you can go out and play It’s sunny outside, and a beautiful day”

Vincent tried to talk, but he just couldn’t speak The years of isolation had made him quite weak So he took out some paper and scrawled with a pen: “I am possessed by this house, and can never leave it again” His mother said: “You’re not possessed, and you’re not almost dead These games that you play are all in your head You’re not Vincent Price, you’re Vincent Malloy You’re not tormented or insane, you’re just a young boy You’re seven years old and you are my son I want you to get outside and have some real fun.” Her anger now spent, she walked out through the hall And while Vincent backed slowly against the wall The room started to swell, to shiver and creak His horrid insanity had reached its peak He saw Abercrombie, his zombie slave And heard his wife call from beyond the grave She spoke from her coffin and made ghoulish demands While, through cracking walls, reached skeleton hands Every horror in his life that had crept through his dreams Swept his mad laughter to terrified screams! To escape the madness, he reached for the door But fell limp and lifeless down on the floor His voice was soft and very slow As he quoted The Raven from Edgar Allan Poe: “and my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor shall be lifted? Nevermore…”

John Bird & John Fortune - financial crisis

George Parr, you are an investment banker.
I am, yeah
As such you have your fingers right on the pulse of the financial market
yes, very much so, yes
and during this summer there has been a great deal of turbulence and volatility
yes, volatility, volatility, tremendous, tremendous
what's caused that?
well, you have to remember two things about the market: one is that they are made of very sharp and sophisticated people. These are the greatest brains. And the second thing you have to remember is that the financial markets, to use the common phrase, are driven by sentiment.
What does that mean?
What does that mean?, well, things, let's say are just going along as normally in the market and then, suddenly, out of the blue, one of these very sharp and sophisticated people says "My God, something awful is going to happen. We lost everything. Oh, my god, what are we going to do? what are we going to do?"
shall I jump out of the window?
shall I jump out of the window?
we've got to jump out of the window
oh, sell, sell, sell, sell
Precisely. And then, a few days later, the same sophisticated person says: you know, I feel things are going rather well. I agree with you, we are rich, we are rich. Buy, buy, buy.
Buy, buy, buy.
And that's what we call the market sentiment
Surely we are exaggerating just a bit
Well, I don't know. In August, middle August this year, when the market actually plunged in London, a well known city firm, State global market, issued an statement in which, I quote, "the market participants don't know wether to buy on the rumour and sell on the news, do the opposite, do both, or do neither depending on which way the wind is blowing" unquote
yes, and this is the kind of rigourous analysis we'll pay huge salaries for
yes, exactly
a few days later, when the market had gone up a little bit the Senior Equity Adviser in MBA Amron Morgan said, and I quote, We are back to happy days, again
well, no price is too high for that kind of mature wisdom
certainly
This sort of people are paid millions of pounds in bonus
yes, of course
During this summer there had been actual causes behind the volatility of the markets
yeah
Specifically,and specially in America granting vast numbers of mortgages to people who can't afford them oin properties which are diminishing in value
it's the so called subprime situation, the subprime market, yes
How does that work?
Imagine, if you can, let's say an unemployed black man sitting on the crumbling porch somewhere in Alabama, in his string-vest and a chap comes along and says: would you like to buy this house before it falls down? Why don't you let me lend you the money?
And is this chap, who says this, is he a banker?
oh no, no, no. he is a mortgage salesman, his entire income depends entirely on the number of mortgages that he can arrange.
so, his judgement to arrange mortgages is completely objective
completely objective, yes
and what happens next?
well, then this debt, this mortgage, is taken, bought by a bank, and packaged together, almost fit, with a lot of other similar debts
without going into much details about what is actually...?
without going into any details - that's far too boring. so this is put into a package of debts and then it is moved into Wall street and, this, this, this's extrordinary what happens: somehow, this package of dodgy debts stops being a package of dodgy debts and starts being what we call an Structured Investment Vehicle
an SIV?
an SIV, exactly, yeah
I see, and then someone like you comes along and buys it
yes, I would ring up someone in Tokyo and would say: look, I've got this package, do you want to buy it? and they say, what is in it? and I say, I haven't got the faintest idea. and they say, how much do you want for it? I say 100 million dollars. and they say, fine, and that's it. and that's the market.
and presumably this package, that kind of thing can happen several times
it could, possibly, yes
and every time it does, of course, you, or someone like you, would get a fee and a marker and a profit
yes, you wouldn't expect us to do this for nothing
in view of the fact that in these packages there is a lot of dodgy debts, what is it about them that attracts the, you know, financial risk-takers?
yes, because, these hedge-funds, as they are called, which specialise in these debts, they all have got very good names
you mean they are responsible companies?
no, no, it has nothing to do with the reputation, they all have got very good names, the names they think up are very good. I'll give you an example, there is a very well-known American Wall street firm, called Bearn Stearns, who had two of these hedge-funds,which specialise in these mortgage debts, and they lost so much money, they lost so much of their value, that Bearn and Stearn announced that they would have to put in 3.2 billion dollars into one of the funds to try to keep it afloat
3.2 billion dollars.
3.2 billion, yes, yes. the investors couldn't get any money out of it they would let the other fund go. But one of these funds was called "High Grade Structured Credit Strategies" and the other one was called the "High Grade Structured Credit Enhaced Leveraged Fund"
well, that sounds very good, that's good, very trustworthy
well, this is the magic of the market. what started off as lending of a few thousand dollars to a unemployed blackman in his string-vest has become a High Grade Structured Credit Enhaced Leveraged Fund
I like the sound of it
It is good, sounds very trustworthy. I mean, it's got good words in it, it's got the word "high"
"high" is good
"high" is good, better than low anyway
yes, yes
and "Structured" is another good word. Very good
"Enhanced".
I love "Enhanced". "Enhanced" is very good
I'd buy anything if it said "Enhanced"
It might have been different if it said the "Unemployed Blackman in the String Vest Fund", but, but
yes, then alarm bells might have sound
But despite these very plausible names, surely the reality is that the people that lend all this money have been incredibly stupid
oh no, oh no, the reality is that what was stupid is that at some point somebody asked "how much money these houses are all actually worth?" If nobody had actually bothered to ask that question everything would have gone on as perfectly normal but unfortunately they did
People are saying that the financial crisis is likely to turn into a financial meltdown, I mean can it be avoided?
It can be avoided provided that Governments and Central Banks give us, the financial speculators, back the money that we've lost
isn't that rewarding greed and stupidity?
No, no, it's rewarding what Prime Minister Gordon Brown called the "Ingenuity of the Market"
You see, I don't
We don't want this money to spend on ourselves, we want this money to get into the market so that we can carry on borrowing and lending money as if nothing had happened, without thinking too much about it
yes, but, if the worst came to the worst and you didn't get this money, what then?
well, then, there would be another market crash and I would say to you what people like me always say: that is not us that would suffer, it's your pension fund
Thank you very much, George Parr

Martin Luther King - I Have A Dream

And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.
Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. 
Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania! 
Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado. 
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California. 
But not only that. 
Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia. 
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee. 
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi, from every mountainside, let freedom ring!

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city,
we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics,
will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:
"Free at last! Free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

Tilda Swinton at San Francisco International Film Festival

There are so many things I suppose I could talk about. I could talk about the making of films, what I have learned in the trenches of independent film making, over two decades. Or what I have learned about the differences between independent filmmaking and the studio system I have more recently become acquainted with. I could talk about performance. I could talk about innovations and new technologies. I could talk about struggle and things that fall apart. I could talk—at length—about money.

But your question, and its hypnotic effect on me, inspires me to talk about none of these things, but to meditate on something I think is far more important than all of this, and much more difficult to address. You make me want to talk about what cinema is and why we need it, and what it is that is incorruptible—uncooptable—within its realm. About the state of mind, the projection of vision, the social project that cinema is and why it’s worth the fight in the first place. And why no revolution, digital or otherwise, could cheat your generation out of its existence. And why I am hopeful to my boots that it’s never, ever going away.

Your sleepytime question about cinema — about dreams — sends me in a way I want to be sent. I’m so proud of you for asking it. Proud that you would wonder such a thing. Proud to know that you instinctively relate film to dream, as few of us making cinema today are encouraged to do. You are eight and a half. What an age for a boy to ask about cinema and dream! It occurs to me that that same evening, Dadda was telling me that his falling asleep in the cinema is a particular honor to the film in question. He was telling me this as a compliment, his having snored through three of the four films released last year in which I appeared.

My friend, the great cultural critic, Enrico Ghezzi, has written about this very thing, he remembered the invitation to reverie that a visionary cinema can provide, the invitation to become unconscious. No joke. Personally, having been exposed recently to the slew of trailers before Spike Lee’s new film, or even those before Ice Age 2, I would have been grateful for a cosh on the back of the head for any temporary escape from the escapism of those previews of forthcoming attractions.

I think the last film in which I experienced this kind of ecstatic removal was at a screening in Cannes of the Thai film Tropical Malady (Sud pralad), in my opinion, a masterpiece, mysterious and shapeshiftingly magical. A love story that actually carries the power to tip one into love, a nightmare of nature that kicks a primal punch, that takes us into the wilderness of human nature and leaves us there. I actually remember rubbing my eyes with my fists in a comedy gesture during the screening, convinced, for one split second, that I had fallen asleep, that only my unconscious could have come up with such a texture of sensation.

I’ve been making film for 20 years now, and I still don’t know what to do with my face when people ask me at what point I decided to become an actress - or even an actor — or how not to feel offended when I’m asked about getting into or out of character, something I frankly know nothing about. I used to think, until quite recently, that this awkwardness was because I was embarrassed about being caught not taking something seriously. But now I think I detect a tang of irritation, of offense, at the implication that I might be present but not correct, that I might be there, on screen, without faith. The idea that I would be there to ENACT something for some nefarious — even vanity-based — reason to do with drawing attention to myself. Too serious to be a dilletante, and too much of a dabbler to be a professional.

Last year, in the course of my recently developed pastime as studio spy, in the process of promoting two fantasy films for different Hollywood studios, I was advised on the proper protocol for talking about religion in America today. In brief, the directive was, hold your hands high where all can see them, step away from the vehicle and enunciate clearly, nothing to declare.

Film is the art form through which time becomes material. Now more than ever, perhaps, we need its possibilities and the sincerity of its witness. In this period when we are attacking and dismantling time itself through our fascination with the virtual and with the simultaneous, we now long for new—renewed—experiences of the temporal, an existential sensation of duration. Why?

Perhaps it is to do with memory and the sense that we are increasingly being pulled into a vast orchestrated project of amnesia. We discovered cinema in the same moment in history when we rediscovered — through Freud — the significance of our dreams. Now we are displacing and distorting — with our passion for genetics, neuroscience, cognitivism — the ineffable element of the dream within the machine. Our dreams are the place where we can remember that which we never realized we knew.

Rolling Stones - Sympathy for the Devil

Please allow me to introduce myself I'm a man of wealth and taste I've been around for a long, long year Stole many a man soul and faith I was round when jesus christ Had his moment of doubt and pain Made damn sure that pilate Washed his hands and sealed his fate Pleased to meet you Hope you guess my name But what's puzzling you Is the nature of my game I stuck around st. petersburg When I saw it was a time for a change Killed the czar and his ministers Anastasia screamed in vain I rode a tank Held a generals rank When the blitzkrieg raged And the bodies stank Pleased to meet you Hope you guess my name What's puzzling you Is the nature of my game I watched with glee While your kings and queens Fought for ten decades For the gods they made I shouted out Who killed the kennedys When after all It was you and me Let me please introduce myself I'm a man of wealth and taste

And I laid traps for troubadours Who get killed before they reached bombay Pleased to meet you Hope you guessed my name, But what's puzzling you Is the nature of my game Pleased to meet you Hope you guessed my name But what's confusing you Is just the nature of my game Just as every cop is a criminal And all the sinners saints As heads is tails Just call me lucifer Cause I'm in need of some restraint So if you meet me Have some courtesy Have some sympathy, and some taste Use all your well-learned politesse Or I'll lay your soul to waste Pleased to meet you Hope you guessed my name But what's puzzling you Is the nature of my game