|
|
In looking for the name of the research person Barry talked to when he first met Cincinnatus I noticed that Ep 13 seems to be missing from the list of member created threads. So, for anyone who doesn't have it, here's the site our beloved Shriek set up and titled "The Further Days of John From Cincinnati": Shrieks site
|
Posts:
824
Registered:
6/11/07
|
|
(162 of 177)
Nov 14, 2009 4:34 PM
Rate this post:
|
Shaun stands at the toilet relieving himself, he closes his eyes and tilts his head back,
Shaun: Man, I'm fucked up, what's going on. (to himself he thinks John, what's going on )
John: (standing behind him) Got to put mustard on your hot dog Shaunie!.
Shaun spins around startled, quickly zipping up his shorts but having difficulty
Shaun: John! Dude you sacred the shit...
John: Scared the piss out of Shaun Yost.
Shaun: yeah dude, you scared the fucking piss out of me! (Shaun weaves a bit and leans over looking into John's face and smiles a wide drunk grin) Dude, watch this! (Shaun steps back and losing his balance several times he traces a pattern on the floor with his feet, then he spins around and throws his arm out almost falling as he starts laughing) Line forms to the left! (Shaun reaches in his pocket and with some effort pulls out a condom and holds it up to John, Shaun grins widely)
John: got rolled and the stupid beaners forgot to check his pockets.
Shaun: (laughing at what John said), fucking right man, I rolled a fatty, (slurring and hanging on to John's shirt front) Dude I'm so glad you're here! I'm having a kick ass party man, everybody's here...come on come on I got to introduce you to my girlfriend! (Shaun fumbles with the door and eventually opens it. He pulls John out and into his room which is filled with people loudly talking and moving in a chaotic rhythm to the music blaring from the speakers in the corner) (Oblivious to the fact that no one is paying any attention) Hey everybody, this is John, he's my friend... from Cincinnati! (only Adam hears Shaun and get's up off Shaun's bed and stands in front of John)
John: (looks down in Adams face) The lighthouse is gone.
Shaun: Oh man, my Grams, Grams... and Gramps they've been takling about you.. But don't tell them anything...not tonight...
John: Not in their lifetime Shaunie.
Shaun: Ohh oh but my dad... my dad..is wondering where you been too... (Shaun steps away from John and smiling heads over to a girl standing in the corner who is smiling at him and holding up a joint for him)
Adam: (watching Shaun and smiling) Butchie gone wild
John: Butchie Yost?
(In the clubhouse Cissy and Mitch stand at the window looking toward the sunset)
Cissy: (Drawing in a deep breath) It actually smells pretty good!
Mitch: I must really have a brain tumor, I could have sworn there was a naval radio complex on that bluff over there.
Cissy: Maybe I should go down and bum a joint, shit he probably doesn't even know how to roll one.
Mitch: That's right Cissy, maybe you should crash Shaunies party and show him how to do it.
Cissy: (looks at Mitch dissmissingly) I think I forgot to put out mustard for the hot dogs. (Cissy walks out and stands briefly at the top of the stairs).
(back in Shaun's room Shaun walks back over to John with his arm draped around a girl)
John: Cissy's gonna show you how to do that.
--
Edited by SpiritontheWater at 11/15/2009 10:57 AM PST
|
|
|
Posts:
2,378
Registered:
8/16/07
|
|
(161 of 177)
Nov 6, 2009 4:10 PM
|
Dear Eccles,
It took me some time to decide how to respond to your thoughtful and as always enlightening comment.
No one who has the pleasure of reading your posts would ever doubt your talent as a writer; it's more than just a hobby for you. I think all of your Deadwood and JFC acquaintances would be privileged and happy to read the story you are working on now, if you would someday let us.
As to the creativity of those who bravely posted their stories, scenes or poems on our forum, I'd attribute it to the mysterious influence of John from Cincinnati. We know he is not from Cincinnati, we know that his name might or might not be John, but it's also became clear that his miracles never cease to happen. The show brought out the best in all of us, I think.
As far as my writing goes, I certainly enjoy it, but it's not much. I am just glad it could entertain someone and that is more than enough for me. I wish I had the talent Walkara, Spirit and others so beautifully revealed in their telling the story of John's visit, and I regret that they've quit. However, I think now I am at peace with that too.
Thank you again for your encouragement; it is a pleasure talking to you
|
|
|
Posts:
19,337
Registered:
5/10/05
|
|
(160 of 177)
Nov 5, 2009 9:41 AM
Rate this post:
|
> It is my way of letting them all go, to live their
> life, changed, almost imperceptibly, without the
> global struggle, or the overnight transformation,
> only with deeper and peaceful acceptance of life and
> its simple truths.
So beautifully stated ...
Of all the ways the series inspired me, one of the most powerful was the simple message: "Work here." I always enjoyed seeing the series character Ramon working away every day performing tasks which would seem to most, and sometimes even to him, as mundane and routine, and the very opposite of glamorous. Ramon didn't surf, had never been famous or even well known, had little money, didn't float in the air, and didn't actually witness anything too far out of the ordinary until those little stick figures showed up at the bar, and yet he found himself right smack dab in the middle of the miraculous simply because he was doing his job at the motel ... working here ... and responding to the needs of others in distress by doing what he could, and cooking some stuff. To me, "working here" means making a difference, however small and insignificant one's effort might seem, wherever one happens to be. For Ramon, that means the motel where he works. For me, it means my palatial flyover country fortress where I'm waited on by my legions of scantily clad servants. For you, it means working where you are.
I have lots of godchildren. I acquired them over the years as most of my friends insisted upon breeding. At Christmas and on their birthdays, I used to include a humorous poem usually composed under the pen name of the family dog. Anyways ... the children aged even though I didn't, and a few years ago, I switched to little short stories instead of poems for their Christmas and birthday cards.
My latest effort for my godchildren has become more than a short story. I'm now just finishing Chapter Six, and have written eighty pages and roughly 19000 words. And it's funny - at least to me. I know that even if no one else reads it, they'll eventually enjoy it, and it lets me "work here."
I mention all this, sven, because people like you and a number of others with whom I've spoken on this board are so talented and have such ability that I can easily imagine any of you writing all sorts of things to brighten the lives of those close to you. You've already done so here, and you can do so anywhere.
--
Edited by Ecclesfan at 11/05/2009 6:56 AM PST
|
|
|
Posts:
139
Registered:
8/11/09
|
|
(159 of 177)
Nov 4, 2009 11:24 PM
|
Sven
I too liked your scene.. I don't like the defeat sound in your voice.
just a few left and thats it.?
You are the spirit of JFC.
Do you realze it is going on 3 years and we have all done our part to keep the threads alive.
If you surf around the internet. And see whats going on.
This is a beautiful retreat.
There will never be another BB like this one.
|
|
|
Posts:
2,378
Registered:
8/16/07
|
|
(158 of 177)
Nov 4, 2009 9:03 PM
|
I was thinking what can I say to all of you for your kind words. Just - thank you, I am honored.
It is my way of letting them all go, to live their life, changed, almost imperceptibly, without the global struggle, or the overnight transformation, only with deeper and peaceful acceptance of life and its simple truths.
I think I have only one or two scenes left in me. I know that it's not the finale everyone was waiting for, but I have little hope that someone else will continue this story.
I hate to see it end. Anyone is willing to turn things around? Maybe we can?
No, Zippy, I haven't read Field, thank you for the advice. I will read "Screenplay" that was recommended by a friend, although I have no plans to write any screenplay. JFC is my first, last and only.
|
|
|
Posts:
19,337
Registered:
5/10/05
|
|
(157 of 177)
Nov 4, 2009 9:35 AM
|
> It makes me so happy to read this! Well done, Sven.
> Thanks so much for writing this for us!
I feel the need to add my two cents and agree with you, skor.
This is really, really well done, Sven.
|
|
|
Posts:
144
Registered:
2/24/09
|
|
(156 of 177)
Nov 3, 2009 7:18 PM
|
I second that Skorda.
Each of these last 3 posts from Sven could have been written by the JFC writers themselves. Bravo!
Sven, have you ever read any of Syd Field's books on screenwriting?
|
|
|
Posts:
4,626
Registered:
8/22/07
|
|
(155 of 177)
Nov 3, 2009 6:13 PM
|
It makes me so happy to read this! Well done, Sven.
Thanks so much for writing this for us!
|
|
|
Posts:
2,378
Registered:
8/16/07
|
|
(154 of 177)
Nov 3, 2009 2:00 PM
|
Windows in Mitch's clubhouse are open to the night breeze. Cissy and Mitch are in bed. Bursts of laughter and sounds of music are heard from the Yosts house.
Mitch: Santa Anas are coming. It seems every year the fires start earlier and burn longer.
Cissy: Fuuuck! I knew it! Can you smell it ? Can you smell it, Mitch? I knew it, it's pot! You fuckin' allowed this whole farewell thing, they fuckin' smoke pot and there's this girl!
Mitch: Come on, Cissy, he is 16, you can't pin him to your skirt. Besides he'll be touring with the big boys now. When I was his age.... (he moves close to Cissy and puts his hand on her belly) you and me, remember?
Cissy: (with a short laugh) Couldn't keep your dick out of me for an hour. All the places were we fucked! Remember that path, next to the chaparral.... What's there now, eh?
Mitch: Overgrown and gone, Cissy.
Cissy: Are we fucking old? When did that happen, Mitch?
(Mitch doesn't answer. They lay silent, embracing each other).
Cissy sits up in bed and lifting her arms starts tying her long hair in a knot.
Mitch: You are.... so...
Cissy: What, as big as some old fucking hag like Leona Helmsley? Am I too fat for you now?
Mitch: Cassiopeia! That hair....
Cissy: That skinny little blond still gives you an itch? Such an unforgettable pussy she had, eh?
Mitch: Good God, Cissy, for once, would you not swear like a drunken sailor! Cassiopeia is a constellation named after a beautiful Greek queen, she had long golden hair.
Cissy straddles Mitch in one fluid movement.
Cissy: You're a fucking romantic, Mitch. A constellation! (She bends down, kissing him) Ride your magic carpet with me!
Mitch:(readily) Would be.... happy..... to oblige, but I.... think I've grown.... roots, Cissy. (They're not moving for a moment) How long couldn't I levitate for? Since that jokester in the deck disappeared.
Cissy: Do you think we'll see him again?
Mitch: Nah, probably not in our lifetime.
Cissy: Whatever.... fuck me..... or make love to me, your choice.
The breeze and the moonlight, love and sorrow blend into a tune heard from a distance.
Iron and Wine, Such Great Heights
In deep darkness we hear John's voice.
John: I listen!.... Cepheus lies next to Cassiopeia in the sky, the only husband-and-wife couple among the constellations.... Meet the fucking Jetsons!
--
Edited by svengali2 at 11/04/2009 5:43 AM PST
|
|
|
Posts:
503
Registered:
12/4/08
|
|
(153 of 177)
Oct 28, 2009 12:27 AM
|
> Why, thank you very much, I've got an admirer.
> Seriously - my pleasure, I am glad you liked it.
> S.
i've admired you for a long time now.
and you are quite welcome.
|
|
|
Posts:
2,378
Registered:
8/16/07
|
|
(152 of 177)
Oct 28, 2009 12:18 AM
|
Why, thank you very much, I've got an admirer.
Seriously - my pleasure, I am glad you liked it.
S.
|
|
|
Posts:
503
Registered:
12/4/08
|
|
(151 of 177)
Oct 28, 2009 12:16 AM
|
some of the nostalgia/remembrance is like this...gentle melody of an old song that will always be a part of your...being.
i guess.
|
|
|
Posts:
503
Registered:
12/4/08
|
|
(150 of 177)
Oct 28, 2009 12:14 AM
|
> Little Feat, Willin
>
> Night is spreading its wings above Imperial Beach.
> The camera, like the night itself, is seeing
> everything and everyone as it sweeps down the dimly
> lit city streets.
>
> The front door of the Internet Café is closed; Jerry
> drags out the trash to the container in the back,
> wipes her hands on the apron and goes inside.
> In a room at Snug Harbor Ramon reads a worn old
> volume in bed, closes it and shuts the light.
> The room where Barry stays is empty; the beach in the
> picture on the wall seems deserted, as if the sea
> lion and the whale departed a long time ago to some
> other island paradise.
> In the next room Palaka is learning to play
> saxophone, slowly tapping his fingers on the keys.
>
> On the pier, where anglers are waiting patiently for
> their catch, Vietnam Joe finishes his joint, flicks
> the roach in the water and starts collecting his
> fishing gear.
>
> Vietnam Joe: Told him I'm not gonna give up
> herb.... Maybe I should've.... Bad sign, been seein'
> ghosts when sun's up, first the frat boy..... who
> the hell it's gonna be tomorrow?.... Mag, you good
> sweet woman, was it somethin' I said? Tomorrow is a
> long time, brother....
>
> Vietnam Joe slowly walks down the pier talking to
> himself, looking smaller with every step, finally
> disappearing in the darkness.
>
> --
> Edited by svengali2 at 10/27/2009 9:13 PM PDT
sigh.
|
|
|
Posts:
4,626
Registered:
8/22/07
|
|
(149 of 177)
Oct 16, 2009 11:56 PM
|
|
I really love this scene, Sven. It's so well written, it brings me back to I.B. I miss it there. Thanks so much for coming back to the board and writing for us again. How I wish the others- Walkara, Spirit, Back, Waxon, Zippy, Myles and Save- would also come and write again. It's been a long time since we could watch JFC, but the story lives on.
|
|
|
Posts:
2,378
Registered:
8/16/07
|
|
(148 of 177)
Oct 16, 2009 1:20 PM
|
Little Feat, Willin
Night is spreading its wings above Imperial Beach. The camera, like the night itself, is seeing everything and everyone as it sweeps down the dimly lit city streets.
The front door of the Internet Café is closed; Jerry drags out the trash to the container in the back, wipes her hands on the apron and goes inside.
In a room at Snug Harbor Ramon reads a worn old volume in bed, closes it and shuts the light.
The room where Barry stays is empty; the beach in the picture on the wall seems deserted, as if the sea lion and the whale departed a long time ago to some other island paradise.
In the next room Palaka is learning to play saxophone, slowly tapping his fingers on the keys.
On the pier, where anglers are waiting patiently for their catch, Vietnam Joe finishes his joint, flicks the roach in the water and starts collecting his fishing gear.
Vietnam Joe: Told him I'm not gonna give up herb.... Maybe I should've.... Bad sign, been seein' ghosts when sun's up, first the frat boy..... who the hell it's gonna be tomorrow?.... Mag, you good sweet woman, was it somethin' I said? Tomorrow is a long time, brother....
Vietnam Joe slowly walks down the pier talking to himself, looking smaller with every step, finally disappearing in the darkness.
--
Edited by svengali2 at 10/27/2009 9:13 PM PDT
|
|
|
|
|
