15 April 2009

fuck fuck fuck


i'm going to die.

suddenly last night i realized i have way too much work to do and a little over 2 weeks left to do it. i have no idea how i'm going to get it done. i really don't. i feel like i shouldn't have gone home for the weekend because of how much work i have to do.

  • 3 papers
  • giant wood book, with pop-out scenes
  • 3 large drawings, 2 of which are hyper-detailed pencil ones
really. how?

[more details forthcoming]

on another note, dexter is an awesome show.

05 April 2009

bits of "blade runner" script

i need to put these bits somewhere so i have fewer windows, and so i don't have to go looking for these bits that i need. i'm writing a paper on j. f. sebastian from "blade runner" and i need everything that involves him in one place.

SCRIPT [regular version]
Roy: Morphology, longevity, incept dates.
Chew: Don't know -- I, I don't know such stuff. I just do eyes. Just eyes -- Just genetic design -- just eyes. You Nexus, huh? I design your eyes.
Roy: Chew, if only you could see what I've seen with your eyes. Questions.
Chew: I don't know answers.
Roy: Who does?
Chew: Tyrell. He -- He knows everything.
Roy: Tyrell corporation?
Chew: He's big boss. Big genius. He, he design your mind, your brain.
Roy: Ah, smart.
Chew: Cold.
Roy: Not an easy man to see--
Chew: Me cold.
Roy: I guess...
Chew: Se-, Sebastian he take-- take you there, he take you there.
Roy: Sebastian who?
Chew: J. -- J. F. Sebastian-- Sebas... Sebas...
Roy: Now--where... would we find this.... J. F. Sebastian?


[Outside J. F. Sebastians's apartment building. Pris covers herself in trash pile.]
Pris: Pugh... Uhhh... Ungh... Ungh...
Sebastian: Hey! You forgot your bag.
Pris: I'm lost.
Sebastian: Don't worry, I won't hurt you. -- What's your name?
Pris: Pris.
Sebastian: Mine's J. F. Sebastian.
Pris: Hi.
Sebastian: Hi. Oh, where were you going? Home?
Pris: I don't have one. We scared each other pretty good, didn't we?
Sebastian: We sure did.
Pris: I'm hungry J. F.
Sebastian: I've got some stuff inside. You want to come in?
Pris: I was hoping you'd say that.
[Pris and Sebastian enter building.]
Pris: Do you live in this building all by yourself?
Sebastian: Yeah, I live here pretty much alone right now. No housing shortage around here. Plenty of room for everybody.
Pris: (cough).
Sebastian: Watch out for the water.
Pris: Must get lonely here J. F.
Sebastian: Mmm... Not really. I make friends. They're toys. My friends are toys. I make them. It's a hobby. I'm a genetic designer. Do you know what that is?
Pris: No.
Sebastian: Now. Yoo-hoo, home again.
Toys: Home again, home again, jiggity jig. Good evening J. F.
Sebastian: Good evening, fellas.
Toy 1: Oooh!
Sebastian: They're my friends. I made them. Where are you're folks?
Pris: I'm sort of an orphan.
Sebastian: Oh, what about your friends?
Pris: I have some, but I have to find them. I'll let 'em know where I am tomorrow.
Sebastian: Oh. Can I take those things for you? They're soaked aren't they?


[Sebastian's apartment]
Sebastian: Whatcha doing?
Pris: Sorry, just peeking.
Sebastian: Oh.
Pris: How do I look?
Sebastian: You look better.
Pris: Just better?
Sebastian: Well, you look beautiful.
Pris: Thanks. -- How old are you?
Sebastian: Twenty-five.
Pris: What's your problem?
Sebastian: Methuselah's syndrome.
Pris: What's that?
Sebastian: My glands. They grow old too fast.
Pris: Is that why you're still on earth?
Sebastian: Yeah, I couldn't pass the medical. Anyway, I kind of like it here.
Pris: I like you just the way you are. Hi Roy.
Roy: Ah, gosh. You've really got some nice toys here.
Pris: This is the friend I was telling you about. This is my savior J. F. Sebastian.
Roy: Sebastian. I like a man that stays put. You live here all by yourself, do ya?
Sebastian: Yes. -- How 'bout some breakfast. I was just gonna make some. Excuse me.
Pris: Well?
Roy: Leon...
Pris: What's going on.
Roy: Ah... There's only two of us now.
Pris: Then we're stupid and we'll die.
Roy: No we won't.
[Sebastian and Roy at chess board]
Sebastian: No, knight takes queen, see. Won't do.
Roy: Why are you staring at us Sebastian?
Sebastian: Because. You're so different. You're so perfect.
Roy: Yes.
Sebastian: What generation are you?
Roy: Nexus six.
Sebastian: Ah, I knew it. 'Cause I do genetic design work for the Tyrell Corporation. There's some of me in you. Show me something.
Roy: Like what?
Sebastian: Like anything.
Roy: We're not computers Sebastian, we're physical.
Pris: I think, Sebastian, therefore I am.
Roy: Very good Pris, now show him why.
[Pris throws hot egg at Sebastian]
Roy: We've got a lot in common.
Sebastian: What do you mean?
Roy: Similar problems.
Pris: Accelerated decrepitude.
Sebastian: I don't know much about biomechanics, Roy, I wish I did.
Roy: If we don't find help soon, Pris hasn't got long to live. We can't allow that. -- Is he good?
Sebastian: Who?
Roy: Your opponent.
Sebastian: Oh, Dr. Tyrell? I've only beaten him once in chess. He's a genius. He designed you.
Roy: Maybe he could help.
Sebastian: I'd be happy to mention it to him.
Roy: Better if I talk to him in person.
Sebastian: Umh.
Roy: But I understand he's a sort of hard man to get to.
Sebastian: Yes, very.
Roy: Will you help us?
Sebastian: I can't.
Pris: We need you Sebastian. You're our best and only friend.
Roy: (strange accent) We're so happy you found us.
Pris: I don't think there's another human being in the whole world who would have helped us.
[Tyrell's apartment]
Tyrell: 66 thousand Prosser and Ankovich. Hmm.. Trade. Trade at--
Computer: New entry. A Mr. J. F. Sebastian. 1-6-4-1-7.
Tyrell: At this hour? What can I do for you Sebastian.
Sebastian: Queen to Bishop 6. Check.
Tyrell: Nonsense. Just a moment. Mmm. Queen to Bishop 6. Ridiculous. Queen to Bishop 6. Hmm... Knight takes Queen. -- What's on your mind Sebastian? What are you thinking about.
Roy: (whispered) Bishop to King 7. Checkmate.
Sebastian: Bishop to King 7. Checkmate, I think.
Tyrell: Got a brainstorm, huh, Sebastian? Milk and cookies kept you awake, huh? Lets discuss this. You better come up, Sebastian.
Sebastian: Mr. Tyrell. I-- I brought a friend.
Tyrell: I'm surprised you didn't come here sooner.
Roy: It's not an easy thing to meet your maker.
Tyrell: And what can he do for you?
Roy: Can the maker repair what he makes.
Tyrell: Would you like to be modified?
Roy: Stay here. -- I had in mind something a little more radical.
Tyrell: What-- What seems to be the problem?
Roy: Death.
Tyrell: Death. Well, I'm afraid that's a little out of my jurisdiction, you--
Roy: I want more life, father.
Tyrell: The facts of life. To make an alteration in the evolvment of an organic life system is fatal. A coding sequence cannot be revised once it's been established.
Roy: Why not?
Tyrell: Because by the second day of incubation, any cells that have undergone reversion mutations give rise to revertant colonies like rats leaving a sinking ship. Then the ship sinks.
Roy: What about EMS recombination.
Tyrell: We've already tried it. Ethyl methane sulfonate as an alkylating agent a potent mutagen It created a virus so lethal the subject was dead before he left the table.
Roy: Then a repressive protein that blocks the operating cells.
Tyrell: Wouldn't obstruct replication, but it does give rise to an error in replication so that the newly formed DNA strand carries the mutation and you've got a virus again. But, uh, this-- all of this is academic. You were made as well as we could make you.
Roy: But not to last.
Tyrell: The light that burns twice as bright burns half as long. And you have burned so very very brightly, Roy. Look at you. You're the prodigal son. You're quite a prize!
Roy: I've done questionable things.
Tyrell: Also extraordinary things. Revel in your time.
Roy: Nothing the god of biomechanics wouldn't let you in heaven for.
[Tyrell screams as his eyes are gouged out.]
Roy: Sorry, Sebastian. Come. Come.
[Roy chases Sebastian out.]
[On the street...]
Bryant: Body identified with Tyrell a twenty-five year old male caucasian named Sebastian. J. F. Sebastian. Address Bradbury apartments, ninth sector. NM46751. I want you to go down there---
Cop: This sector's closed to ground traffic. What are you doing here?
Deckard: I'm working. What are you doing?
Cop: Arresting you. That's what I'm doing.
Deckard: I'm Deckard. Blade Runner. Two sixty three-fifty four. I'm filed and monitored
Cop: Hold on. Checking. -- Okay, checked and cleared. Have a better one.
[Deckard calls Sebastian's apartment.]
Pris: Hello?
Deckard: Hi, is J. F. there?
Pris: Who is it?
Deckard: This is Eddie. An old friend of J. F.'s.
[Pris hangs up.]
Deckard: Ooh. That's no way to treat a friend.