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Culmination in how the script simply calls for the director to hand-strangle the female actress on stage, for that most authentic of shots straight outta 90s French cinema handbook, "non, non, the script simply says right here - female actreux commits to unsimulated oral sexual pleseur with...

No, no, that's just how the script goes, see - the female protagonist needs to wiggle her toe, and the camera has to linger on this toe, it's the STORYYY!

entirely composed out of first-takes, I refuse to believe anything else

Now Sobel is basically "whiny Ross" forever, an incompetent useless coward who somehow fielded the best soldiers the world has ever seen, for then to fuck off and shoot himself through the face, botching even that.

Ever since, who's gonna question them? Who's gonna question aging veterans "maybe you're just remembering the guy wrong" and Ambrose's book - like any - needs a bit of a narrative flow, an antagonist or two - and then the HBO show really ran with it

I'm willing to suspect that a bunch of stressed out 17-19 year olds may not perfectly remember their captain and/or may have credited for a bunch of ills that were not really his fault at all

The show itself was never able to make its mind up about him either; he is a bad trainer, but trains the best platoon in the world; he is skittish in the field, but trains the best field-men in the world

He was their CO, and they were stressed - war was on the horizon, and he was training them to be paratroopers - so the training *has* to be super hard. They're supposed to loathe him, and later on build a bit of a rapport

OR the Faun is real - but if he is real, the magical realm that awaits her has already been described to us in the intro; it's where her father lives, now also her mother, here are no lies, no pain - there are no blue skies deep underground, and she can only dream of being human

Lil fuckers stole my rock! How did they even lift it, let alone fly off with it - it was an egg-shaped lava-rock, they full well know it's not edible - it's a goddamn rock, big as a plum! WHY!?

Fuckin symbiosis!

I'm out regularily to assert my territory in front of the gulls. It's their nesting season, they love these high rooftops - local janitor offer to come up and chase away or whatevs, but fuck that completely, I chase them away - one swooped on me, I hissed at it, and they now avoid my corner -...

The great tits also happen to be generational nesters, btw - and have burrowed a hole in the fine grid wire plating, supposed to keep such out, probably many years and great tit generations ago

I have not yet *met* my new local magpies, unlike the previous, which I was well aquainted with (one even tried to save me from a lounging, peaceful cat) - but they have shown an increased interest in my livingroom windows - they understand I lurk inside.

Unbothered by all of this is a nest of great tits, inside one of my vents, right behind me, they are very active in the early day, but remain completely silent for the rest.