<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747856680513245327</id><updated>2012-02-16T18:52:23.338-08:00</updated><category term='Q 200'/><title type='text'>drudge</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>ziferstein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09449968180157770041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>926</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747856680513245327.post-8206303272499445919</id><published>2011-11-26T16:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-26T16:59:10.469-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;oo&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1747856680513245327-8206303272499445919?l=drudge22.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/feeds/8206303272499445919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2011/11/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/8206303272499445919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/8206303272499445919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2011/11/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>ziferstein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09449968180157770041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747856680513245327.post-72559341797786943</id><published>2011-08-13T06:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-13T06:53:10.149-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;oo&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1747856680513245327-72559341797786943?l=drudge22.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/feeds/72559341797786943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2011/08/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/72559341797786943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/72559341797786943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2011/08/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>ziferstein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09449968180157770041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747856680513245327.post-1793874833067079206</id><published>2011-07-26T08:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-26T08:43:03.841-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;oo&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1747856680513245327-1793874833067079206?l=drudge22.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/feeds/1793874833067079206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2011/07/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/1793874833067079206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/1793874833067079206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2011/07/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>ziferstein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09449968180157770041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747856680513245327.post-524840841547875788</id><published>2010-11-25T11:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-25T11:37:36.584-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thomas Jefferson, athiest</title><content type='html'>Shake off all the fears of servile prejudices, under which weak minds are servilely crouched. Fix reason firmly in her seat, and call on her tribunal for every fact, every opinion. Question with boldness even the existence of a God; because, if there be one, he must more approve of the homage of reason than that of blindfolded fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Thomas Jefferson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;oo&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1747856680513245327-524840841547875788?l=drudge22.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/feeds/524840841547875788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2010/11/thomas-jefferson-athiest.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/524840841547875788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/524840841547875788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2010/11/thomas-jefferson-athiest.html' title='Thomas Jefferson, athiest'/><author><name>ziferstein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09449968180157770041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747856680513245327.post-7387585708689656723</id><published>2010-11-07T15:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T15:34:28.924-08:00</updated><title type='text'>QUOTATIONS</title><content type='html'>Greed is good. Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit.&lt;br /&gt;---OLIVER STONE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I'm happy. That shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone. &lt;br /&gt;---Bob Dylan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has served us well, this myth of Christ&lt;br /&gt;---Pope Leo x (Giovanni de' Medici)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surely you can't be serious. &lt;br /&gt;I am serious... and don't call me Shirley&lt;br /&gt;---AIRPLANE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must pause for one fast second and say a fast word about oral contraception. I was involved in an extremely good example of oral contraception two weeks ago. I asked a girl to go to bed with me, and she said "No". &lt;br /&gt;---Woody Allen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nearly every man who develops an idea works it up to the point where it looks impossible, and then he gets discouraged. That's not the place to become discouraged. But keep your day job. &lt;br /&gt;---Thomas A. Edison &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If an unfriendly power had attempted to impose on America the mediocre educational performance that exists today, we might well have viewed it as an act of war.&lt;br /&gt;— "A Nation at Risk" (1983) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never marry a man who has no friends. I am always amazed at the number of men I have counseled who have no friends.&lt;br /&gt;---Father Pat Connor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the second year of the great civil war, when the Irish brigades marched through the streets, New york was a city full of tribes. War chiefs, rich and poor. It wasn't a city really, It was more a furnace where cities someday might be forged. &lt;br /&gt;---GANGS OF NEW YORK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For conservatives, seeing is believing; for liberals, believing is seeing. &lt;br /&gt;---George F. Will&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crack that whip&lt;br /&gt;Give the past the slip&lt;br /&gt;-DEVO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see and you know&lt;br /&gt;---Jack Benny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit. Greed, in all its forms; greed for life, for money, for love, for knowledge, has marked the upward surge of mankind. Greed, for lack of a better word, is good. Greed is right, greed works. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greed, for lack of a better word, is good. Greed is right, greed works. Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit. Greed, in all its forms; greed for life, for money, for love, for knowledge, has marked the upward surge of mankind.&lt;br /&gt;---WALLSTREET&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And greed, you mark my words, will not only save Teldar Paper, but that other malfunctioning corporation called the USA. &lt;br /&gt;From the Oliver Stone film Wall Street 1980&lt;br /&gt;Read by Michael Douglas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. You not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief. &lt;br /&gt;---C. S. Lewis Grief &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;San Francisco in 1966 was what the whole young and popular world would be doing Saturday nights if the Nazis had won the war. It was the Sixth Reich.&lt;br /&gt;---FEAR AND LOATHING IN LAS VEGAS &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shake off all the fears of servile prejudices, under which weak minds are servilely crouched. Fix reason firmly in her seat, and call on her tribunal for every fact, every opinion. Question with boldness even the existence of a God; because, if there be one, he must more approve of the homage of reason than that of blindfolded fear. &lt;br /&gt;---Thomas Jefferson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... These guys are proud of what they did. They did Dealey Plaza! They took out the President of the United States! That's entertainment! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FERRIE Oh man, why don't you stop. This is too fuckin' big for you! Who did Kennedy? It's a mystery wrapped in a riddle inside an enigma. Even the shooters don't fuckin' know! Don't you get it yet? I can't be talking like this. They're gonna kill me. I'm gonna die! (he sits down, cracking, sobbing) I don't know what happened. All I wanted in the world was to be a Catholic priest - live in a monastery, study ancient Latin manuscripts, pray, serve God. But I had this one terrible, fatal weakness. They defrocked me. And then I started to lose everything. &lt;br /&gt;---JFK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JIM GARRISON ... some story ... the whole thing. It's like it never happened.&lt;br /&gt;DONALD SOUTHERN It never did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---JFK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kilgore (Robert Duval) stands there, hands on hips, looking at the burning jungle in the distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILGORE&lt;br /&gt;You smell that? Do you smell that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LANCE&lt;br /&gt;What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILGORE&lt;br /&gt;(pointing to trees)&lt;br /&gt;Napalm, son. Nothing else in the &lt;br /&gt;world smells like that.&lt;br /&gt;(crouches down)&lt;br /&gt;I love the smell of napalm in the &lt;br /&gt;morning. You know, one time we &lt;br /&gt;had a hill bombed for twelve &lt;br /&gt;hours...and when it was all over, &lt;br /&gt;I walked up. We didn't find one &lt;br /&gt;of them, not one stinking dink &lt;br /&gt;body. The smell, you know that &lt;br /&gt;gasoline smell? The whole hill-&lt;br /&gt;smelled like-victory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looks of nostalgically. A shell comes in and HITS in the background. Willard and the soldiers react; Kilgore ignores it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILGORE&lt;br /&gt;Someday this war's gonna end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---APOCALYPSE NOW&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a matter of life and death, a road either&lt;br /&gt;to safety or to ruin. Hence it is a subject of inquiry&lt;br /&gt;which can on no account be neglected.&lt;br /&gt;---SUN TZU, ON THE ART OF WAR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This strange disease of modern life, with its sick hurry, its divided aims. &lt;br /&gt;---Matthew Arnold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For at least another hundred years we must pretend to ourselves and to every one that fair is foul and foul is fair; for foul is useful and fair is not. Avarice and usury and precaution must be our gods for a little longer still. &lt;br /&gt;---John Maynard Keynes &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man may be a fool and not know it, but not if he is married. &lt;br /&gt;---H. L. Mencken &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EISENHOWER&lt;br /&gt;The conjunction of an immense military&lt;br /&gt;establishment and a large arms industry is new&lt;br /&gt;in the American experience. The total influence&lt;br /&gt;- economic, political, even spiritual - is felt&lt;br /&gt;in every city, every statehouse, every office of&lt;br /&gt;the Federal Government ... In the councils of&lt;br /&gt;government we must guard against the acquisition&lt;br /&gt;of unwarranted influence, whether sought or&lt;br /&gt;unsought, by the military industrial complex.&lt;br /&gt;The potential for the disastrous rise of&lt;br /&gt;misplaced power exists and will persist ... We&lt;br /&gt;must never let the weight of this combination&lt;br /&gt;endanger our liberties or democratic processes.&lt;br /&gt;We should take nothing for granted ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;oo&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1747856680513245327-7387585708689656723?l=drudge22.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/feeds/7387585708689656723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2010/11/quotations.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/7387585708689656723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/7387585708689656723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2010/11/quotations.html' title='QUOTATIONS'/><author><name>ziferstein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09449968180157770041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747856680513245327.post-3196448243100143140</id><published>2010-11-07T15:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T15:22:43.385-08:00</updated><title type='text'>DEVIL'S ADVOCATE</title><content type='html'>THE DEVIL'S ADVOCATE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Devil's Advocate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God's your prankster, my boy.Think of it. He gives man&lt;br /&gt;instincts. He gives you this extraordinary gift and then, I swear to you -- for his own&lt;br /&gt;amusement -- his own private, cosmic gag reel -- he sets the rules in opposition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet Faust in fancy cowboy boots: Kevin Lomax, the lawyer played by Keanu Reeves in Taylor Hackford's unexpectedly seductive ''Devil's Advocate.'' Kevin is at the heart of a high-concept sentence (''Slick yuppie is co-opted by slicker New York Satan'') that has been spun into a lavish-looking, cleverly entertaining morality play with shades of ''Rosemary's Baby,'' ''Wall Street'' and countless other tales of selling out to Manhattan's temptations. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time it's the devil as head honcho at a law firm, with Al Pacino having great, wily fun with the screenplay's bons mots. ''Look at me, underestimated from Day One!'' bellows this executive, who has a taste for fashionably urbane black. ''You'd never think I was a Master of the Universe, now wouldya?''&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His idea of such mastery definitely goes beyond Tom Wolfe's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a gratifyingly light touch, the screenplay by Jonathan Lemkin and Tony Gilroy (adapted from a novel by Andrew Neiderman) names Mr. Pacino's character John Milton, since he knows a thing or two about paradise lost. And it is in Gainesville, Fla., that they first find the ambitious Kevin, who thinks he has much to gain. Kevin, played with uncharacteristic sharpness by Mr. Reeves as a smart and debonair hotshot, is first seen successfully defending an unsavory schoolteacher against a charge of molesting a student (Heather Matarazzo of ''Welcome to the Dollhouse''). Then, with his gorgeous and sultry wife, Mary Ann (Charlize Theron), he celebrates this dubious victory. High on his own career trajectory, Kevin is in a mood to say yes when a strange lawyer flashes a big check and tries luring him to Manhattan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The firm that summons Kevin has business in places like the Middle East, the Balkans, Central America and West Africa. It has a receptionist named Caprice. It has a witchily beautiful temptress called Christabella (Connie Nielson). And it has the devilish penthouse lair of Milton, complete with Purgatory artwork and a big roaring fire. Bruno Rubeo's deft production design, handsomely photographed by Andrzej Bartkowiak with the same burnished look he has given many Sidney Lumet films, gives this place a stark minimalism that is one part sleek efficiency, one part torture chamber. Running water cascading off the open edge of a terrace is one of the film's many ways of suggesting souls on the brink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lomaxes are given a big apartment and Mary Ann stays home the way Rosemary did, painting the place while her husband advances his career. Meanwhile, Kevin stays preoccupied and becomes increasingly seduced by the cases that come his way. One involves Delroy Lindo as a mysterious figure accused of sacrificing goats in his ghetto basement. Another features Craig T. Nelson as a developer living in Trump-like, gilded splendor. The film's more mischievous tricks include using Donald Trump's real apartment as a set, since Versailles was perhaps unavailable, and producing Senator Alfonse D'Amato at a party scene for the Devil's law firm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Mary Ann starts having trouble. She misses her husband. She is pursued by Milton, who talks her into doing something drab to her beautiful blond hair. She receives equally unhelpful decorating advice from fellow corporate wives and abandons her favorite color, though Mary Ann's bright green figures sadly in a later hospital scene. During one outing with these women, complete with shopping, chardonnay and talk of plastic surgery, Mary Ann suddenly sees a terrifying vision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The film uses morphing and Rick Baker's monster effects strikingly, but it also keeps its gimmicks well tethered to reality: an afternoon like Mary Ann's might be enough to make anyone see demons. Later on, Kevin's wandering eye yields an unsettling sex scene in which two different women in his life are suddenly made indistinguishable. Mr. Hackford uses diabolical editing at strategic moments to confuse identities in this way. While there is no small irony in a big Hollywood film's finger-wagging about the seductions of wealth and power, ''Devil's Advocate'' does avoid clumsy moralizing and old-hat notions of good and evil. It helps that Kevin is no naif, and that his churchgoing Mama (Judith Ivey) sees Manhattan as ''a dwelling place of demons'' well before that perception becomes unavoidable. It helps that the film finds Faustian deal making and yuppie ambition not very different. And it also helps that in this, the ultimate lawyer joke of a movie, it becomes so clear why Kevin's legal talents are the Devil's instruments of choice. Mr. Pacino's mischievous Milton eventually notes that nobody on earth could do his bidding better than a well-trained band of attorneys. If those attorneys are as pampered as Kevin threatens to become, so much the better. As Milton likes to point out, ''Vanity is definitely my favorite sin.''&lt;br /&gt;(Special trailer note: Lurid advance ads for ''Devil's Advocate'' make it look ridiculous. It's not.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Look but don't&lt;br /&gt;touch. Touch but don't taste.&lt;br /&gt;And while you're jumping from one foot&lt;br /&gt;to the other he's laughing his&lt;br /&gt;sick fucking ass off! He's a&lt;br /&gt;tight-ass. He's a sadist. He's&lt;br /&gt;an absentee landlord!&lt;br /&gt;(incredulous)&lt;br /&gt;Worship that? Never..&lt;br /&gt;Vanity is definitely my favorite&lt;br /&gt;sin. Self love. It's so basic.&lt;br /&gt;What a drug. Cheap, all-natural,&lt;br /&gt;and right at your fingertips.&lt;br /&gt;Pride. That's where you're&lt;br /&gt;strongest. And believe me, I &lt;br /&gt;understand. Work for someone&lt;br /&gt;else? -- Hey, I couldn't hack it.&lt;br /&gt;'Better to reign in Hell than&lt;br /&gt;serve in Heaven.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;oo&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1747856680513245327-3196448243100143140?l=drudge22.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/feeds/3196448243100143140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2010/11/devils-advocate.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/3196448243100143140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/3196448243100143140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2010/11/devils-advocate.html' title='DEVIL&apos;S ADVOCATE'/><author><name>ziferstein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09449968180157770041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747856680513245327.post-6004481213200362139</id><published>2009-06-14T18:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T18:29:19.951-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Earth from Above</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SjWjzzzgKPI/AAAAAAAAFAg/NizSWLpXgOE/s1600-h/earth-from-above-france%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; 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height: 259px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SelD7FJMMOI/AAAAAAAAEJQ/JNSFI70FIwg/s400/26_zz-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325862716614389986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SelD7EfMrBI/AAAAAAAAEJI/TGS3CZ1iQ8U/s1600-h/26_zz-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 259px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SelD7EfMrBI/AAAAAAAAEJI/TGS3CZ1iQ8U/s400/26_zz-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325862716438260754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SelD6w2sF3I/AAAAAAAAEJA/Puu1KcuLFRc/s1600-h/13_mm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SelD6w2sF3I/AAAAAAAAEJA/Puu1KcuLFRc/s400/13_mm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325862711168079730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SelD6mvtXPI/AAAAAAAAEI4/1ABD5wAoylA/s1600-h/10_jj.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; 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cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SelDVSCitaI/AAAAAAAAEIo/NjYXklwmj9Q/s400/05_i+copy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325862067241137570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SelDVM-sN7I/AAAAAAAAEIg/UqFEUa3I1Lg/s1600-h/3b3e5_1113419279_ca3be2e7dd_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SelDVM-sN7I/AAAAAAAAEIg/UqFEUa3I1Lg/s400/3b3e5_1113419279_ca3be2e7dd_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325862065882806194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SelDU6WZJ6I/AAAAAAAAEIY/34HyPpnT98Q/s1600-h/02_ii.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SelDU6WZJ6I/AAAAAAAAEIY/34HyPpnT98Q/s400/02_ii.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325862060881946530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SelDU13o0rI/AAAAAAAAEIQ/PS1F9JCp2CQ/s1600-h/1f919_1113404175_a87b06c72e_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SelDU13o0rI/AAAAAAAAEIQ/PS1F9JCp2CQ/s400/1f919_1113404175_a87b06c72e_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325862059679208114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SelDUmpSwwI/AAAAAAAAEII/ViPzPcRstFg/s1600-h/01_s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SelDUmpSwwI/AAAAAAAAEII/ViPzPcRstFg/s400/01_s.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;oo&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1747856680513245327-6004481213200362139?l=drudge22.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/feeds/6004481213200362139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2009/06/earth-from-above.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/6004481213200362139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/6004481213200362139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2009/06/earth-from-above.html' title='Earth from Above'/><author><name>ziferstein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09449968180157770041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SjWjzzzgKPI/AAAAAAAAFAg/NizSWLpXgOE/s72-c/earth-from-above-france%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747856680513245327.post-5086521599808205756</id><published>2009-06-14T13:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T13:03:00.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BORK</title><content type='html'>The American left was mislead. &lt;br /&gt;The American left was mislead. Here's how we got it wrong. In everyday life, lying about sex is appropriate and honorable. But only until the law steps in. That changes everything, because lying under oath is against the law. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It does not matter in the least what the perjury is about. --Robert Bork&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is an old case, but I hope it interests you. It's tricky and to me, fascinating. It's about the Clinton impeachment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we were wrong about the gravity of Clinton's high crimes and misdemeanors. Can you imagine being faced publicly with arguments like those below? Would you survive? I wouldn't. I would be humiliated. Read on. Based on a Robert Bork essay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lying under oath strikes at the heart of our system of justice and the rule of law. It does not matter in the least what the perjury is about. If a man was charged with lying about a break-in and inducing others to lie, you might, if you were brainless, say the whole thing was just about a "third-rate burglary" and therefore not grounds for impeachment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We do not say that we care about truth when the subject is murder or drug pushing but care very little when the subject is tampering with witnesses to hide adultery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Actually in everyday life, we do say that. This is a bit of sand in the juryman's eyes. An unfair punch that softens us up. It's unnecessary and makes Bork look bad. But he's still right.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An impeachable offense requires "high Crimes and Misdemeanors," and those, as we are reminded by the words of Alexander Hamilton, are "offenses which proceed from the misconduct of public men, or, in other words, from the abuse or violation of some public trust. They are of a nature which may with peculiar propriety be denominated political, as they relate chiefly to injuries done immediately to the society itself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has that standard been met? Not if you are one of those who agree with the President and his legal minions that the charges against the President are "just about sex." That is the line taken by the formerly redoubtable Maureen Dowd, who wrote that Starr had made a case for divorce but not for impeachment. Walter Shapiro, concluded that "Clinton's sordid middle-aged misdemeanors do not justify impeachment."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are almost willful misreadings of what Starr alleged. Not one of the eleven items that Starr thinks are "substantial and credible information that [in the words of the Independent Counsel statute] may constitute grounds for an impeachment" depends upon sex. Five of the counts allege perjury by the President, five allege obstruction of justice, and the final count states that Mr. Clinton's actions have been "inconsistent with the President's constitutional duty to faithfully execute the laws." If any one of the first ten counts is borne out by the evidence, the eleventh is automatically true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sex is not the gravamen of the report but merely the predicate for the cover-up allegations. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may be counterintuitive, but perjury about sex is as serious as perjury about other matters. Repeated and deliberate lies told under oath are most certainly "injuries done immediately to the society itself". Lying under oath strikes at the heart of our system of justice and the rule of law. It does not matter in the least what the perjury is about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The American left was mislead. Here's how we got it wrong. In everyday life, lying about sex is appropriate and honorable. But only until the law steps in. That changes everything, because lying under oath is against the law. It does not matter in the least what the perjury is about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's heartbreaking for the Clintons, but he should have been thrown out of office. It's not fair, but it is tough and follows the law. We were wrong to misunderstand the gravity of Clinton's dilemma. There should have been no way out. From a solid legal standpoint, justice was not done. He was poorly advised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We could consider legalizing perjury involving adultery. That makes sense.Prosecuting perjury about a non criminal act does seem inconsistent with the rule of law. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think Bork is right. Without changing my political philosophy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;oo&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1747856680513245327-5086521599808205756?l=drudge22.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/feeds/5086521599808205756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2009/06/bork.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/5086521599808205756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/5086521599808205756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2009/06/bork.html' title='BORK'/><author><name>ziferstein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09449968180157770041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747856680513245327.post-2790059761691091803</id><published>2009-06-12T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T19:48:09.757-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NEW YORKER CARTOONS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SfMnFujIVBI/AAAAAAAAEpw/HRZ213IU7jI/s1600-h/2695909251_7f094fbb14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 229px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SfMnFujIVBI/AAAAAAAAEpw/HRZ213IU7jI/s400/2695909251_7f094fbb14.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328645763457635346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SfMnFUvkrkI/AAAAAAAAEpo/cXPOVzLGJIY/s1600-h/CartoonContest04.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 390px; height: 283px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SfMnFUvkrkI/AAAAAAAAEpo/cXPOVzLGJIY/s400/CartoonContest04.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328645756530503234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SfMnFeMyQvI/AAAAAAAAEpg/3YRSXqpnx2Y/s1600-h/090223_cartoon_f_a13831_p465.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; 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margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 336px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se_dGrjZbLI/AAAAAAAAEg4/Jp319pTAm34/s400/090427_cartoon_5_a14122_p465.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327719991042731186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;oo&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1747856680513245327-2790059761691091803?l=drudge22.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/feeds/2790059761691091803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2009/06/new-yorker-cartoons.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/2790059761691091803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/2790059761691091803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2009/06/new-yorker-cartoons.html' title='NEW YORKER CARTOONS'/><author><name>ziferstein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09449968180157770041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SfMnFujIVBI/AAAAAAAAEpw/HRZ213IU7jI/s72-c/2695909251_7f094fbb14.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747856680513245327.post-4178595524749879124</id><published>2009-06-12T19:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T19:45:54.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AMERICAN ROADSIDE ATTRACTIONS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SdfF2ClqKiI/AAAAAAAACIs/L0Xy3FAzhr8/s1600-h/GADOUmuf_laurafloyd%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; 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margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 283px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se1oU-hc4RI/AAAAAAAAEeQ/ilzdaBkvTtc/s400/magic-bullet.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327028643839140114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se1oU6ydeLI/AAAAAAAAEeI/ok16113yH1M/s1600-h/garrison2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se1oU6ydeLI/AAAAAAAAEeI/ok16113yH1M/s400/garrison2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327028642836740274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se1oUvBkwtI/AAAAAAAAEeA/0xo9GEwjT7U/s1600-h/jfkrare.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 372px; height: 260px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se1oUvBkwtI/AAAAAAAAEeA/0xo9GEwjT7U/s400/jfkrare.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327028639678907090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se1oUlpj-PI/AAAAAAAAEd4/JJHz85hmYtQ/s1600-h/oswald3.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 273px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se1oUlpj-PI/AAAAAAAAEd4/JJHz85hmYtQ/s400/oswald3.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327028637162273010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have all become Hamlets&lt;br /&gt; in our country - children of a slain father&lt;br /&gt;     - leader whose killers still possess the&lt;br /&gt;        throne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ghost of John F. Kennedy&lt;br /&gt;     confronts us with the secret murder at the&lt;br /&gt;      heart of the American dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what took&lt;br /&gt;       place on November 22, 1963 was a coup d'etat.&lt;br /&gt;   Its most direct and tragic result was a&lt;br /&gt; reversal of President Kennedy's commitment&lt;br /&gt;      to withdraw from Vietnam.  War is the&lt;br /&gt;   biggest business in America worth $80 billion&lt;br /&gt;   a year.  The President was murdered by a&lt;br /&gt;        conspiracy planned in advance at the highest&lt;br /&gt;    levels of the United States government and&lt;br /&gt;      carried out by fanatical and disciplined&lt;br /&gt;        Cold Warriors in the Pentagon and CIA's&lt;br /&gt; covert operations apparatus - among them&lt;br /&gt;        Clay Shaw here before you.  It was a public&lt;br /&gt;     execution and it was covered up by like -&lt;br /&gt;       minded individuals in the Dallas Police&lt;br /&gt; Department, the Secret Service, the FBI,&lt;br /&gt;        and the White House - all the way up to and&lt;br /&gt;     including J. Edgar Hoover and Lyndon&lt;br /&gt;    Johnson, whom I consider accomplices after&lt;br /&gt;      the fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The super state will provide you tranquility&lt;br /&gt;   above the truth,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;       It started in the wind.  Money -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        arms, big oil, Pentagon people, contractors,&lt;br /&gt;    bankers, politicians like L.B.J. were&lt;br /&gt;   committed to a war in Southeast Asia.  As&lt;br /&gt;       early as '61 they knew Kennedy was going&lt;br /&gt;        to change things ... He was not going to&lt;br /&gt;        war in Southeast Asia.  Who knows?&lt;br /&gt;      Probably some boardroom or lunchroom&lt;br /&gt;    somewhere - Houston, New York - hell,&lt;br /&gt;   maybe Bonn, Germany ... who knows, it's&lt;br /&gt; international now.  (ORIGINAL SCRIPT ONLY)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    And where was Lee Oswald?  Probably&lt;br /&gt;     in the second floor snack room.  Eddie&lt;br /&gt;  Piper and William Shelly saw Oswald&lt;br /&gt;     eating lunch in the first floor lunch&lt;br /&gt;   room around twelve.  Around 12:15, on&lt;br /&gt;   her way out of the building to see the&lt;br /&gt;  motorcade, secretary Carolyn Arnold saw&lt;br /&gt; Oswald in the second floor snack room,&lt;br /&gt;  where he said he went for a Coke ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the second floor lunchroom of the Book Depository we see Carolyn&lt;br /&gt;Arnold, a pregnant secretary, crossing past Oswald, who is in a booth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           CAROLYN ARNOLD&lt;br /&gt;          (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    He was sitting in one of the booths on&lt;br /&gt;  the right hand side of the room.  He&lt;br /&gt;    was alone as usual and appeared to be&lt;br /&gt;   having lunch.  I did not speak to him&lt;br /&gt;   but I recognized clearly.  I remember&lt;br /&gt;   it was 12:15 or later.  It coulda been&lt;br /&gt;  12:25, five minutes before the&lt;br /&gt;  assassination, I don't exactly remember.&lt;br /&gt;        I was pregnant and I had a craving for&lt;br /&gt;  a glass of water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the sixth floor of the depository, Bonnie Ray Williams is eating a&lt;br /&gt;chicken lunch, alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se1mYZO1n9I/AAAAAAAAEdg/92_OqKHBNh8/s1600-h/ferriewig.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 186px; height: 276px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se1mYZO1n9I/AAAAAAAAEdg/92_OqKHBNh8/s400/ferriewig.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327026503525179346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    At the same time, Bonnie Ray Williams is&lt;br /&gt;        supposedly eating his chicken lunch on&lt;br /&gt;  the sixth floor, at least until 12:15,&lt;br /&gt;  maybe 12:20 ... he sees nobody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the street, Arnold Rowland and his wife look up at the sixth floor&lt;br /&gt;windows and we see, from their point of view, two shadowy figures ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Down on the street, Arnold Rowland was&lt;br /&gt;  seeing two men in the sixth floor&lt;br /&gt;       windows ... presumably after Bonnie Ray&lt;br /&gt; Williams finished his lunch and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We see footage of J.F.K. coming up Houston - waving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oswald walks into the second floor lunchroom as policeman Marrion Baker&lt;br /&gt;runs in, gun at his side.  He is about 30 feet from Oswald.  Roy Truly,&lt;br /&gt;the superintendent, runs in a moment later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Kennedy was running five minutes late&lt;br /&gt;   for his appointment with death.  He was&lt;br /&gt; due at 12:25.  If Oswald was the assassin,&lt;br /&gt;      he was certainly pretty non-chalant about&lt;br /&gt;       getting himself into position.  Later he&lt;br /&gt;        told Dallas police he was standing in the&lt;br /&gt;       second floor snackroom.  Probably told to&lt;br /&gt;       wait there for a phone call by his handler.&lt;br /&gt;     The phones were in the adjacent and empty&lt;br /&gt;       second floor offices, but the call never&lt;br /&gt;        came.  A maximum 90 seconds after Kennedy&lt;br /&gt;       is shot, patrolman Marrion Baker runs into&lt;br /&gt;      Oswald in that second story lunchroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          BAKER&lt;br /&gt;   Hey you!&lt;br /&gt;                (to Truly)&lt;br /&gt;      Do you know this man?  Is he an employee?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               TRULY&lt;br /&gt;   Yes he is.&lt;br /&gt;              (as Baker moves on)&lt;br /&gt;     The President's been shot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oswald reacts as if hearing it for the first time.  Truly and Baker&lt;br /&gt;continue running up the stairs.  Oswald proceeds to get a Coke and&lt;br /&gt;continues out of the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: the sixth floor, where we see Oswald as the shooter.  After&lt;br /&gt;firing, he runs full speed for the stairs, stashing the rifle on the&lt;br /&gt;other side of the loft.  Our camera follows him roughly down stairs - we&lt;br /&gt;hear the loud sound of his shoes banging on the hollow wood - to the&lt;br /&gt;lunchroom, where Patrolman Baker and Superintendent Truly run in.  Then&lt;br /&gt;they start to repeat the same action as seen in the previous scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    ... but what the Warren Report would&lt;br /&gt;    have us believe is that after firing 3&lt;br /&gt;  bolt action shots in 5.6 seconds, Oswald&lt;br /&gt;        then leaves three cartridges neatly side&lt;br /&gt;        by side in the firing nest, wipes the&lt;br /&gt;   rifle clear of fingerprints, stashes the&lt;br /&gt;        rifle on the other side of the loft,&lt;br /&gt;    sprints down five flights of stairs, past&lt;br /&gt;       witnesses Victoria Adams and Sandra Styles&lt;br /&gt;      who never see him, and then shows up cool&lt;br /&gt;       and calm on the second floor in front of&lt;br /&gt;        Patrolman Baker - all this within a&lt;br /&gt;     maximum 90 seconds of the shooting.  Is&lt;br /&gt; he out of breath?  According to Baker,&lt;br /&gt;  absolutely not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: the second floor.  Oswald ambles past Mrs. Reid, a secretary in&lt;br /&gt;the second floor office, on his way out, Coke bottle in hand and wearing&lt;br /&gt;his usual dreamy look ... there's a lingering close - up on his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Assuming he is the sole assassin, Oswald&lt;br /&gt;        is now free to escape from the building.&lt;br /&gt;        The longer he delays, the more chance the&lt;br /&gt;       building will be sealed by the police.&lt;br /&gt;  Is he guilty?  Does he walk out the&lt;br /&gt;     nearest staircase?  No, he buys a Coke&lt;br /&gt;  and at a slow pace, spotted by Mrs. Reid&lt;br /&gt;        in the second floor office, he strolls&lt;br /&gt;  out the more distant front exit, where&lt;br /&gt;  the cops start to gather ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside, we see Oswald stroll out the door of the Book Depository into&lt;br /&gt;the crowd.  He heads for the bus stop to the east.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Oddly, considering three shots are&lt;br /&gt;      supposed to have come from there, nobody&lt;br /&gt;        seals the Depository for ten more&lt;br /&gt;       minutes.  Oswald slips out, as do&lt;br /&gt;       several other employees.  Of course,&lt;br /&gt;    when he realized something had gone&lt;br /&gt;     wrong and the President really had&lt;br /&gt;      been shot, he knew there was a problem.&lt;br /&gt; He may even have known he was the patsy.&lt;br /&gt;        An intuition maybe - the President&lt;br /&gt;      killed in spite of his warning.  The&lt;br /&gt;    phone call that never came.  Perhaps&lt;br /&gt;    fear now came to Lee Oswald.  He wasn't&lt;br /&gt; going to stand around for roll call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in the courtroom, Jim continues speaking:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;     The story gets pretty confusing now -&lt;br /&gt;   more twists in it than a watersnake.&lt;br /&gt;    Richard Carr says he saw four men take&lt;br /&gt;  off from the Book Depository in a&lt;br /&gt;       Rambler that possibly belongs to Janet&lt;br /&gt;  Williams.  Deputy Roger Craig says two&lt;br /&gt;  men picked up Oswald in the same Rambler&lt;br /&gt;        a few minutes later.  Other people say&lt;br /&gt;  Oswald took a bus out of there, and&lt;br /&gt;     then because he was stuck in traffic,&lt;br /&gt;   he hopped a cab to his rooming house&lt;br /&gt;    in Oak Cliff ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLASHBACK TO: Oswald's boarding house.  Oswald enters his room, passing&lt;br /&gt;Earlene Roberts, the heavyset white housekeeper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    ... we must assume he wanted to get&lt;br /&gt;     back in touch with his intell team,&lt;br /&gt;     probably at a safehouse or at the&lt;br /&gt;       Texas Theatre, but how could he be&lt;br /&gt;      sure?  He didn't know who to trust&lt;br /&gt;      anymore ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se1nMspNFZI/AAAAAAAAEdw/EBux5DIIGv0/s1600-h/zap16.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 106px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se1nMspNFZI/AAAAAAAAEdw/EBux5DIIGv0/s400/zap16.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327027402089239954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             ROBERTS&lt;br /&gt;         (watching TV)&lt;br /&gt;   My God, did you see that, Mr. Lee?&lt;br /&gt;      A man shot the President.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The camera closes in on Oswald's perplexed face.  Earlene peeks out the&lt;br /&gt;shades as she hears two short honks on a horn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside is a black police car driven by Tippit.  Also in the car is the&lt;br /&gt;fence shooter, dressed as a Dallas policeman.  The car drives by, honks&lt;br /&gt;twice, waits, then moves away.  During this visual, we see the fence&lt;br /&gt;shooter changing his uniform into civilian clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DISCREPENCIES IN TIPPET MURDER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Oswald returns to this rooming house&lt;br /&gt;    around 1 P.M., half hour after the&lt;br /&gt;      assassination, puts on his jacket,&lt;br /&gt;      grabs his .38 revolver, leaves at 1:04&lt;br /&gt;  ... Earlene Roberts, the housekeeper,&lt;br /&gt;   says she heard two beeps on a car horn&lt;br /&gt;  and two uniformed cops pulled up to the&lt;br /&gt; house while Oswald was in his room, like&lt;br /&gt;        it was a signal or something ... Officer&lt;br /&gt;        Tippit is shot between 1:10 and 1:15&lt;br /&gt;    about a mile away.  Though no one actually&lt;br /&gt;      saw him walking or jogging, the Government&lt;br /&gt;      says Oswald covered that distance.&lt;br /&gt;      Incidentally, that walk, if he did it, is&lt;br /&gt;       in a straight line toward Jack Ruby's&lt;br /&gt;   house.  Giving the government the benefit&lt;br /&gt;       of the doubt, Oswald would have had to&lt;br /&gt;  jog a mile in six to eleven minutes and&lt;br /&gt; commit the murder, then reverse direction&lt;br /&gt;       and walk 3/5 of a mile to the Texas&lt;br /&gt;     Theatre and arrive sometime before 1:30.&lt;br /&gt;        That's some walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a street, Oswald walks alone, fast.  A police car pulls up alongside&lt;br /&gt;him on 10th Street.  Oswald leans on the passenger side of the window.&lt;br /&gt;Officer Tippit, suspicious, gets out to question him.  Oswald pulls his&lt;br /&gt;.38 revolver and shoots him down in the street with 5 shots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    It's also a useful conclusion.  After all,&lt;br /&gt;      why else would Oswald kill Officer Tippit,&lt;br /&gt;      unless he just shot the President and&lt;br /&gt;   feared arrest?  Not one credible witness&lt;br /&gt;        could identify Oswald as Tippit's killer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Domingo Benavides, hidden in his truck only a few yards away, watches as&lt;br /&gt;another unidentified man (not seen before) shoots and walks away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Domingo Benavides, the closest witness to&lt;br /&gt;       the shooting, refused to identify Oswald&lt;br /&gt;        as the killer and was never taken to a&lt;br /&gt;  lineup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We see Acquilla Clemons, a black woman, looking on.  She watches as two&lt;br /&gt;men kill Tippit.  One of them resembles the fence shooter.  The other&lt;br /&gt;one is a mystery figure, seen before in the fringes.  The men walk off&lt;br /&gt;quickly in opposite directions.  We notice a policeman's uniform hanging&lt;br /&gt;in the back seat of Tippit's car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Acquilla Clemons saw the killer with another&lt;br /&gt;    man and says they went off in separate&lt;br /&gt;  directions.  Mrs. Clemons was never taken to&lt;br /&gt;    lineup or to the Warren Commission.  Mr.&lt;br /&gt;        Frank Wright, who saw the killer run away,&lt;br /&gt;      stated flatly that the killer was not Lee&lt;br /&gt;       Oswald.  Oswald is found with a .38 revolver.&lt;br /&gt;   Tippit is killed with a .38 automatic.  At&lt;br /&gt;      the scene of the crime Officer J.M. Poe&lt;br /&gt; marks the shells with his initials to record&lt;br /&gt;    the chain of evidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: Policeman Poe marking the bullets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Those initials are not on the three&lt;br /&gt;     cartridge cases which the Warren Commission&lt;br /&gt;     presents to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a Dallas avenue near the Texas Theatre, Oswald moves along, spooked.&lt;br /&gt;Police cars roar by with sirens blaring.  Johnny Brewer, in a shoestore,&lt;br /&gt;spots him and follows him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Oswald is next seen by shoe salesman&lt;br /&gt;    Johnny Brewer lurking along Jefferson&lt;br /&gt;   Avenue.  Oswald is scared.  He begins&lt;br /&gt;Mannlicher-Carcano rifle allegedly used by Lee&lt;br /&gt; Harvey Oswald to assassinate President John F. Kennedy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NARA to realize the full implications of this&lt;br /&gt;        thing.  He goes into the Texas Theatre,&lt;br /&gt; possibly his prearranged meeting point,&lt;br /&gt; but though he has $14 in his pocket, he&lt;br /&gt; does not buy the 75 - cent ticket.  Brewer&lt;br /&gt;      has the cashier call the police.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside the Texas Theatre Oswald walks past the cashier, who is out on&lt;br /&gt;the sidewalk watching the police cars go by.  A double feature is&lt;br /&gt;playing - Cry of Battle with Van Heflin and War is Hell.  He goes in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: 30 officers arriving at the theatre in a fleet of patrol cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se1oVO3Ra1I/AAAAAAAAEeY/Ya0TgZ68cj0/s1600-h/oswald3.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 273px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se1oVO3Ra1I/AAAAAAAAEeY/Ya0TgZ68cj0/s400/oswald3.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327028648225631058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    ... in response to the cashier's call, at&lt;br /&gt;       least thirty officers in a fleet of patrol&lt;br /&gt;      cars descend on the movie theatre.  This has&lt;br /&gt;    to be the most remarkable example of police&lt;br /&gt;     intuition since the Reichstag fire.  I don't&lt;br /&gt;    buy it.  They knew - someone knew - Oswald&lt;br /&gt;      was going to be there.  In fact, as early as&lt;br /&gt;    12:44, only 14 minutes after the assassination,&lt;br /&gt; the police radio put out a descriptio&lt;br /&gt;   matching Oswald's size and build.  Brewer&lt;br /&gt;       says the man was wearing a jacket, but the&lt;br /&gt;      police say the man who shot Tippit left his&lt;br /&gt;     jacket behind.  Butch Burroughs, theatre&lt;br /&gt;        manager, says Oswald bought some popcorn from&lt;br /&gt;   him at the time of the Tippit slaying.&lt;br /&gt;  Burroughs and witness Bernard Haire also&lt;br /&gt;        said there was an Oswald look - alike taken&lt;br /&gt;     from the theatre.  Perhaps it was he who&lt;br /&gt;        sneaked into the theatre just after 1:30.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside the theatre, Cry of Battle is on the screen.  Twelve to fourteen&lt;br /&gt;spectators sit scattered between the balcony and ground floor.  Brewer&lt;br /&gt;leads the officers onto the stage and the lights come on.  He points to&lt;br /&gt;Oswald.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    In any case, Brewer helpfully leads the&lt;br /&gt; cops into the theatre and from the stage&lt;br /&gt;        points Oswald out ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cops advance on Oswald, who jumps up, as if expecting to be shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              OSWALD&lt;br /&gt;  This is it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             POLICEMAN&lt;br /&gt;       Kill the President, will you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scared, Oswald takes a swing at a policeman.  He pulls out his gun.  The&lt;br /&gt;officers close in on him from the rear and front.  A wrestling and&lt;br /&gt;shoving match ensues.  One officer gets a chokehold on Oswald and&lt;br /&gt;another one hits him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    The cops have their man!  It was already&lt;br /&gt;        been decided - in Washington.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside the theatre, Oswald, his eye blackened, is led out by the&lt;br /&gt;phalanx of officers.  They are surrounded by an angry crowd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              CROWD&lt;br /&gt;   Kill him!  Kill him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Dr. Best, Himmler's right hand man in the&lt;br /&gt;       Gestapo, once said "as long as the police&lt;br /&gt;       carries out the will of the leadership, it&lt;br /&gt;      is acting legally."  That mindset allowed&lt;br /&gt;       for 400 political murders in the Weimar&lt;br /&gt; Republic of 1923 - 32, where the courts&lt;br /&gt; were controlled and the guilty acquitted.&lt;br /&gt;       Oswald must've felt like Josef K in Kafka's&lt;br /&gt;     "The Trial".  He was never told the reason&lt;br /&gt;      of his arrest, he does not know the unseen&lt;br /&gt;      forces ranging against him, he cries out&lt;br /&gt;        his outrage in the police lineup just like&lt;br /&gt;      Josef K excoriates the judge for not being&lt;br /&gt;      told the charges against him.  But the&lt;br /&gt;  state is deaf.  The quarry is caught.  By&lt;br /&gt;       the time he is brought from the theatre,&lt;br /&gt;        a large crowd is waiting to scream at&lt;br /&gt;   him.  By the time he reaches police&lt;br /&gt;     headquarters, he is booked for murdering&lt;br /&gt;        Tippit ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the Dallas police station, Dallas Police Captain Will Fritz takes a&lt;br /&gt;call from a high official in Washington.  In the background we notice&lt;br /&gt;Lee Oswald continuing to be questioned by federal agents.  We hear&lt;br /&gt;Johnson's distinctive Texas drawl but we never see him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    No legal counsel is provided.  No record&lt;br /&gt;        made of the long questioning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           HIGH OFFICIAL VOICE&lt;br /&gt;     Howdy there, Cap'n.  Thanks for taking care&lt;br /&gt;     of us down in Dallas.  Lady Bird and I will&lt;br /&gt;     always be grateful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             FRITZ&lt;br /&gt;   Thank you, Mr. President.  We're doing&lt;br /&gt;  our best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               HIGH OFFICIAL VOICE&lt;br /&gt;     Cap'n, I know you're working like a hound&lt;br /&gt;       dog down there to get this mess wrapped up,&lt;br /&gt;     but I gotta tell you there's too much&lt;br /&gt;   confusion coming out of Dallas now.  The&lt;br /&gt;        TVs and the papers are full of rumour 'bout&lt;br /&gt;     conspiracies.  Two gunmen, two rifles, the&lt;br /&gt;      Russkies done it, the Cubans done it, that&lt;br /&gt;      kinda loose talk, it's carin' the shit&lt;br /&gt;  outta people, bubba'.  This thing could lead&lt;br /&gt;    us into a war that could cost 40 million&lt;br /&gt;        lives.  We got to show'em we got this thing&lt;br /&gt;     under control.  No question, no doubts, for&lt;br /&gt;     the good of our country ... you hear me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                FRITZ&lt;br /&gt;   Yes, sir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               HIGH OFFICIAL VOICE&lt;br /&gt;     Cap'n, you got your man, the investigation's&lt;br /&gt;    over, that's what people want to hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The camera closes in on Oswald in the background.  He turns to an unseen&lt;br /&gt;Deputy, sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              OSWALD&lt;br /&gt;  Now everyone will know who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    By the time the sun rose the next morning,&lt;br /&gt;      he is booked for murdering the President.&lt;br /&gt;       The whole country - fueled by the media -&lt;br /&gt;       assumes he's guilty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These guys are proud&lt;br /&gt;       of what they did.  They did Dealey Plaza!&lt;br /&gt;       They took out the President of the United&lt;br /&gt;       States!  That's entertainment!  And they&lt;br /&gt;        served their country doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se1mr9yQIwI/AAAAAAAAEdo/paCAyKcr5uE/s1600-h/tsbd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se1mr9yQIwI/AAAAAAAAEdo/paCAyKcr5uE/s400/tsbd.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327026839754908418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what took&lt;br /&gt;       place on November 22, 1963 was a coup d'etat.&lt;br /&gt;   Its most direct and tragic result was a&lt;br /&gt; reversal of President Kennedy's commitment&lt;br /&gt;      to withdraw from Vietnam.  War is the&lt;br /&gt;   biggest business in America worth $80 billion&lt;br /&gt;   a year.  The President was murdered by a&lt;br /&gt;        conspiracy planned in advance at the highest&lt;br /&gt;    levels of the United States government and&lt;br /&gt;      carried out by fanatical and disciplined&lt;br /&gt;        Cold Warriors in the Pentagon and CIA's&lt;br /&gt; covert operations apparatus - among them&lt;br /&gt;        Clay Shaw here before you.  It was a public&lt;br /&gt;     execution and it was covered up by like -&lt;br /&gt;       minded individuals in the Dallas Police&lt;br /&gt; Department, the Secret Service, the FBI,&lt;br /&gt;        and the White House - all the way up to and&lt;br /&gt;     including J. Edgar Hoover and Lyndon&lt;br /&gt;    Johnson, whom I consider accomplices after&lt;br /&gt;      the fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The super state will provide you tranquility&lt;br /&gt;   above the truth,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Clay Shaw also stood for no loose dangling ends. He&lt;br /&gt;had testified earlier that Habighorst told him it was&lt;br /&gt;necessary to sign the blank card in order to get bail, to&lt;br /&gt;which Clay said he replied, "In that case, I'll sign it."&lt;br /&gt;Now Alcock asked if Officer Habighorst had asked him any&lt;br /&gt;questions, to which Clay replied, "No." "You did not&lt;br /&gt;utter one word?" Alcock asked. Clay made no bones about&lt;br /&gt;correcting the attorney: "That was not my testimony. I&lt;br /&gt;said I was asked no questions."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHAW ADMISSION OF ALIAS RULED INADMISSABLE.     \&lt;br /&gt; Judge Haggerty jutted his head forward and said,&lt;br /&gt;"It's outside the presence of the jury, Mr. Alcock." He&lt;br /&gt;then sat back and spoke in a loud voice. "I don't care.&lt;br /&gt;The whole world can hear that I disbelieve Officer&lt;br /&gt;Habighorst." He gave Alcock a what-do-you-think-of-that&lt;br /&gt;look and then, as if to punctuate his feelings for all&lt;br /&gt;time and leave no doubt whatsoever, Judge Haggerty leaned&lt;br /&gt;forward once again and said, "I do not believe Officer&lt;br /&gt;Habighorst!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is an ugly surprise for Jim.  We see him at the bench arguing&lt;br /&gt;loudly with the judge.  Susie, Dymond and Al are also there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          JUDGE HAGGERTY&lt;br /&gt;  I'm sorry, Jim, but the defendant did not have&lt;br /&gt;  his lawyer present when asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLASHBACK TO 1967, in the New Orleans police station.  Shaw is being&lt;br /&gt;booked.  The press is there and Habighorst is questioning him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                HABIGHORST&lt;br /&gt;      Any alias?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              SHAW&lt;br /&gt;    Clay Bertrand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We see a close-up on Habighorst typing this in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           GARRISON (V.O.)&lt;br /&gt; Jesus, Ed, from time immemorial it's been&lt;br /&gt;       standard booking procedure to ask an alias.  You&lt;br /&gt;        know that.  There's no constitutional&lt;br /&gt;   requirement that says a lawyer has to be present&lt;br /&gt;        for routine questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          JUDGE HAGGERTY&lt;br /&gt;  I call'em as I see'em, Jim.  I'm ruling it&lt;br /&gt;      inadmissible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           GARRISON&lt;br /&gt;        That's our case!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                JUDGE HAGGERTY&lt;br /&gt;  If that's your case, you didn't have a case.  I&lt;br /&gt; wouldn't believe whatever Habighorst said,&lt;br /&gt;      anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         GARRISON&lt;br /&gt;        I can't believe you're saying this in the&lt;br /&gt;       courtroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JUDGE HAGGERTY&lt;br /&gt;          (feistier)&lt;br /&gt;      Well, I am saying it.  Bring in the jury.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               AL&lt;br /&gt;      We're filing for a writ to the appellate court.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         JUDGE HAGGERTY&lt;br /&gt;  You do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dymond goes back to Shaw, very please.  Shaw smokes, icy.  Jim,&lt;br /&gt;devastated, sits, feeling it's over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO Clay Shaw on the stand.  Dymond cross-examines him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               DYMOND&lt;br /&gt;  ... Oswald?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             SHAW&lt;br /&gt;    No, I did not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          DYMOND&lt;br /&gt;  ... ever called Dean Andrews?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           SHAW&lt;br /&gt;    No, I did not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          DYMOND&lt;br /&gt;  ... and have you ever met David Ferrie?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         SHAW&lt;br /&gt;            (with a smirk of amusement)&lt;br /&gt;     No, I would not even know what he looked like&lt;br /&gt;   except for the pictures I've been shown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                DYMOND&lt;br /&gt;  ... did you ever use the alias Clay Bertrand?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           SHAW&lt;br /&gt;    No, I did not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          DYMOND&lt;br /&gt;  Thank you ... Mr. Shaw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jim rises slowly out of his chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               JIM&lt;br /&gt;     Well, a very great actor has just given us a&lt;br /&gt;    great performance, Your Honor, but we are&lt;br /&gt;       nowhere closer to the truth.  Let it be noted,&lt;br /&gt;  my office is charging Clay Shaw with outright&lt;br /&gt;   perjury on the fifteen answers he has given, not&lt;br /&gt;        one word of this ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            JUDGE HAGGERTY&lt;br /&gt;  You're out of order, Jim Boy, now sit down.&lt;br /&gt;     Strike those remarks!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO later in the trial.  A movie screen has been installed for the&lt;br /&gt;jury.  Jim paces dramatically, as if waiting, casting looks at the door.&lt;br /&gt;Members of the press pack the hot room, and a fan turns overhead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            JIM&lt;br /&gt;     To prove their was a conspiracy involving Clay&lt;br /&gt;  Shaw we must prove there was more than one man&lt;br /&gt;  involved in the assassination.  To do that, we&lt;br /&gt;  must look at the Zapruder film, which my office&lt;br /&gt; has subpoenaed.  The American public has not&lt;br /&gt;    seen that film because it has been kept locked&lt;br /&gt;  in a vault in the Time-Life Building in New York&lt;br /&gt;        City for the last five years.  There is a reason&lt;br /&gt;        for that.  Watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Zapruder film (8mm) now rolls.  We have seen pieces of it before in&lt;br /&gt;the opening of the film, but now we see it whole.  It is crucial that&lt;br /&gt;this piece of film be repeated several times during the trial to drive&lt;br /&gt;home a point that is easily lost on casual viewing.  The first viewing&lt;br /&gt;is silent except for the sound of the clanky projector.  It lasts about&lt;br /&gt;25 seconds, and then the lights come on.  The jury is shaken.  The judge&lt;br /&gt;is shaken.  The people in the courtroom murmur.  Even Clay Shaw is&lt;br /&gt;surprised at what he has seen.  Jim says nothing, letting the truth of&lt;br /&gt;it sink in.  Then:&lt;br /&gt;MAGIC BULLET, SEVEN WITH ONE BLOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Seven wounds  This single bullet&lt;br /&gt;        explanation is the foundation of the Warren&lt;br /&gt;     Commission's claim of a lone assassin.  And once&lt;br /&gt;        you conclude the magic bullet could not create&lt;br /&gt;  all seven of those wounds, you have to conclude&lt;br /&gt; there was a fourth shot and a second rifleman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                JIM (CONT'D)&lt;br /&gt;    A picture speaks a thousand words.  Yet&lt;br /&gt; sometimes the truth is too simple for some ...&lt;br /&gt;  The Warren Commission thought they had an open&lt;br /&gt;  and shut case: three bullets, one assassin - but&lt;br /&gt;        two things happened that made it virtually&lt;br /&gt;      impossible: 1)the Zapruder film which you just&lt;br /&gt;  saw, and 2)the third wounded man, Jim Tague, who&lt;br /&gt;        was nicked by a fragment down by the Triple&lt;br /&gt;     Underpass.  The time frame of 5.6 seconds&lt;br /&gt;       established by the Zapruder film left no&lt;br /&gt;        possibility of a fourth shot from Oswald's&lt;br /&gt;      rifle, but the shot or fragment that left a&lt;br /&gt;     superficial wound on Tague's cheek had to come&lt;br /&gt;  from a bullet that missed the car entirely.  Now&lt;br /&gt;        they had two bullets that hit, and we know one&lt;br /&gt;  of them was the fatal head shot.  So a single&lt;br /&gt;   bullet remained to account for all seven wounds&lt;br /&gt; in Kennedy and Connally.  But rather than admit&lt;br /&gt; to a conspiracy or investigate further, the&lt;br /&gt;     Commission chose to endorse the theory put forth&lt;br /&gt;        by an ambitious junior counsellor, Arlen&lt;br /&gt;        Specter.  One of the grossest lies ever forced&lt;br /&gt;  on the American people, we've come to know it as&lt;br /&gt;        the "magic bullet" theory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO a drawing which has been put on a chair for the Jury.  Jim has&lt;br /&gt;also moved Al, acting as J.F.K., into a chair directly behind the larger&lt;br /&gt;Numa, acting as Governor Connally.  He demonstrates with a pointer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM (CONT'D)&lt;br /&gt;    The magic bullet enters the President's back,&lt;br /&gt;   headed downward at an angle of 17 degrees.  It&lt;br /&gt;  then moves upward in order to leave Kennedy's&lt;br /&gt;   body from the front of his neck - his neck wound&lt;br /&gt;        number two - where it waits 1.6 seconds, turns&lt;br /&gt;  right and continues into Connally's body at the&lt;br /&gt; rear of his right armpit - wound number three.&lt;br /&gt;  Then, the bullet heads downward at an angle of&lt;br /&gt;  27 degrees, shattering Connally's fifth rib and&lt;br /&gt; leaving from the right side of his chest -&lt;br /&gt;      wounds four and five.  The bullet continues&lt;br /&gt;     downward and then enters Connally's right wrist&lt;br /&gt; - wound number six - shattering the radius bone.&lt;br /&gt;        It then enters his left thigh - wound number&lt;br /&gt;    seven - from which it later falls out and is&lt;br /&gt;    found in almost "pristine" condition on a&lt;br /&gt;       stretcher in a corridor of Parkland Hospital.&lt;br /&gt;           (he shows a mock-up of the&lt;br /&gt;"pristine" bullet)&lt;br /&gt;    That's some bullet.  Anyone who's been in combat&lt;br /&gt;        can tell you never in the history of gunfire has&lt;br /&gt;        there been a bullet like this.&lt;br /&gt;          (the court laughs)&lt;br /&gt;      The Army Wound Ballistics experts at Edgewood&lt;br /&gt;   Arsenal fired some comparison bullets and not&lt;br /&gt;   one of them looked anything like this one.&lt;br /&gt;              (he shows mock-ups of comparison&lt;br /&gt;bullets)&lt;br /&gt;        Take a look at CE 856, an identical bullet fired&lt;br /&gt;        through the wrist of a human cadaver - just one&lt;br /&gt; of the bones smashed by the magic bullet.  Yet&lt;br /&gt;  the government says it can prove this with some&lt;br /&gt; fancy physics in a nuclear laboratory.  Of&lt;br /&gt;      course they can.  Theoretical physics can prove&lt;br /&gt; an elephant can hang from a cliff with it's tail&lt;br /&gt;        tied to a daisy, but use your eyes - your common&lt;br /&gt;        sense -&lt;br /&gt;         (he holds the bullet)&lt;br /&gt;   Seven wounds, skin, bone.  This single bullet&lt;br /&gt;   explanation is the foundation of the Warren&lt;br /&gt;     Commission's claim of a lone assassin.  And once&lt;br /&gt;        you conclude the magic bullet could not create&lt;br /&gt;  all seven of those wounds, you have to conclude&lt;br /&gt; there was a fourth shot and a second rifleman.&lt;br /&gt;  And if there was a second rifleman, there had to&lt;br /&gt;        be a conspiracy, which we believe involved the&lt;br /&gt;  accused Clay Shaw.  Fifty-one witnesses,&lt;br /&gt;        gentlemen of the jury, thought they heard shots&lt;br /&gt; coming from the Grassy Knoll, which is to the&lt;br /&gt;   right and front of the President.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jim walks to a drawing of an overhead view of Dealey Plaza.  On it are&lt;br /&gt;dots representing locations of the witnesses. He points to each portion.&lt;br /&gt;He pauses and looks out into the courtroom - Liz has entered accompanied&lt;br /&gt;by Jasper.  Quietly she takes a seat.  Jim is unbelieving at first, then&lt;br /&gt;very moved.  He takes a beat, then:&lt;br /&gt;CLAY SHAW&lt;br /&gt;INCONTROVERTIBLE EVIDENCE OF FRONTAL ENTRY WOUND. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifty-one witnessess said they heard shots&lt;br /&gt;      coming from the Grassy Knoll, which is to the&lt;br /&gt;   right and front of the President.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The exit hole in the rear of his&lt;br /&gt;       head was about 120 mm. across.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctors found no&lt;br /&gt;      wounds of entry in the back of the head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AUTOPSY COVER-UP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's a big difference between an&lt;br /&gt;     autopsy performed by civilian doctors&lt;br /&gt;   and one by military doctors working for&lt;br /&gt; the government.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: the Secret Service team preparing to wheel the casket out.  The&lt;br /&gt;Dallas Medical Examiner, Dr. Rose, backed by a justice of the peace,&lt;br /&gt;bars the way.  A furious wrestling match ensues.&lt;br /&gt;              MEDICAL EXAMINER&lt;br /&gt;        Texas Law, sir, requires the autopsy be&lt;br /&gt; done here.  You're not taking him with&lt;br /&gt;  you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            KENNY O'DONNELL&lt;br /&gt; Sonofabitch, you're not telling me what&lt;br /&gt; to do!  Get the hell outta the way!         Did this actually happen? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                JIM&lt;br /&gt;     Key witnesses that day - Charles Brehm, a combat&lt;br /&gt;        vet, right behind Jean Hill and Mary Moorman,&lt;br /&gt;   S.M. Holland and Richard Dodd on the overpass,&lt;br /&gt;  J.C. Price overlooking the whole Plaza, Randolph&lt;br /&gt;        Carr, a steelworker, who served in the Rangers in&lt;br /&gt;       North Africa, William Newman, father of two&lt;br /&gt;     children who hit the deck on the north side of&lt;br /&gt;  Elm, Abraham Zapruder, James Simmons - each of&lt;br /&gt;  these witnesses has no doubt whatsoever one or&lt;br /&gt;  more shots came from behind the picket fence!&lt;br /&gt;   Twenty six trained medical personnel at Parkland&lt;br /&gt;        Hospital saw with their own eyes the back of the&lt;br /&gt;        President's head blasted out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: Dr. Peters on the stand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           PETERS&lt;br /&gt;          (describing the wound)&lt;br /&gt;  ... a large 7 cm opening in the right&lt;br /&gt;   occipitoparietal area, a considerable portion of&lt;br /&gt;        the brain was missing there.&lt;br /&gt;            (he gestures to his head)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: Dr. McClelland on the stand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           MCCLELLAND&lt;br /&gt;      ... almost a fifth or perhaps a quarter of the&lt;br /&gt;  back of the head - this area here ...&lt;br /&gt;           (he indicates his head)&lt;br /&gt; ... had been blasted out along with the brain&lt;br /&gt;   tissue there.  The exit hole in the rear of his&lt;br /&gt; head was about 120 mm. across.  There was also&lt;br /&gt;  a large piece of skull attached to a flap of&lt;br /&gt;    skin in the right temporal area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLASHBACK TO: Parkland Hospital Emergency Room on that day in 1963.  The&lt;br /&gt;doctors work on the President.  The wounds on the back of his head are&lt;br /&gt;evident but will change later in the autopsy.  He is placed in a bronze&lt;br /&gt;casket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Not one of the civilian doctors who&lt;br /&gt;     examined the President at Parkland Hospital&lt;br /&gt;     regarded his throat wound as anything but&lt;br /&gt;       a wound of entry.  The doctors found no&lt;br /&gt; wounds of entry in the back of the head.&lt;br /&gt;        But the body was then illegally moved&lt;br /&gt;   to Washington for the autopsy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: the Secret Service team preparing to wheel the casket out.  The&lt;br /&gt;Dallas Medical Examiner, Dr. Rose, backed by a justice of the peace,&lt;br /&gt;bars the way.  A furious wrestling match ensues.&lt;br /&gt;               MEDICAL EXAMINER&lt;br /&gt;        Texas Law, sir, requires the autopsy be&lt;br /&gt; done here.  You're not taking him with&lt;br /&gt;  you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            KENNY O'DONNELL&lt;br /&gt; Sonofabitch, you're not telling me what&lt;br /&gt; to do!  Get the hell outta the way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Secret Service agents put the doctor and judge up against the wall&lt;br /&gt;at gunpoint and sweep out of the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Because when a coup d'etat has occurred&lt;br /&gt; there's a big difference between an&lt;br /&gt;     autopsy performed by civilian doctors&lt;br /&gt;   and one by military doctors working for&lt;br /&gt; the government.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLASHBACK TO: Love Field the same day.  We see Air Force One taking off&lt;br /&gt;and a photo of L.B.J. being sworn in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    The departure of A Force One from&lt;br /&gt;       Love Field that Friday afternoon was&lt;br /&gt;    not so much a takeoff as it was a&lt;br /&gt;       getaway with the newly sworn in President.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              DYMOND&lt;br /&gt;          (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Objection, your honor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          JUDGE&lt;br /&gt;   Sustained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    On the plane, of course, Lee Harvey&lt;br /&gt;     Oswald's guilt was announced by the&lt;br /&gt;     White House Situation Room to the&lt;br /&gt;       passengers before any kind of investigation&lt;br /&gt;     had started.  The "lone nut" solution&lt;br /&gt;   is in place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            DYMOND&lt;br /&gt;          (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Objection!  Your Honor!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         JUDGE&lt;br /&gt;   Sustained.  Mr. Garrison, would you please&lt;br /&gt;      bottle the acid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORE AUTOPSY COVER-UP INFORMATION&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLASHBACK TO: the Bethesda autopsy room in 1963.  The room is crammed&lt;br /&gt;with military officers, Secret Service men and, at the center, three&lt;br /&gt;intimidated doctors.  Pictures are being taken as they remove bullet&lt;br /&gt;fragments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         JIM&lt;br /&gt;     The three Bethesda Naval Hospital doctors&lt;br /&gt;       picked by the Military left something to&lt;br /&gt;        be desired inasmuch as none of them had&lt;br /&gt; experience with combat gunfire wounds.&lt;br /&gt;  Through their autopsy we have been able&lt;br /&gt; to justify eight wounds - three to Kennedy,&lt;br /&gt;     five to Connally - from just two bullets,&lt;br /&gt;       one of these bullets the "magic bullet".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: Jim in court with a series of drawings indicating with arrows&lt;br /&gt;entry and exit wounds to Kennedy's neck and head.  Dr. Finck is on the&lt;br /&gt;stand, erect, very precise, and irritated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           JIM&lt;br /&gt;     Colonel Finck, are you saying someone &lt;br /&gt;  told you not to dissect the neck?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               FINCK&lt;br /&gt;   I was told that the family wanted&lt;br /&gt;       examination of the head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                JIM&lt;br /&gt;     As a pathologist it was your obligation&lt;br /&gt; to explore all possible causes of death,&lt;br /&gt;        was it not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             FINCK&lt;br /&gt;   I had the cause of death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               JIM&lt;br /&gt;     Your Honor, I would ask you to direct the&lt;br /&gt;       witness to answer my question.  Why did&lt;br /&gt; Colonel Finck not dissect the track of&lt;br /&gt;  the bullet wound in the neck?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           FINCK&lt;br /&gt;   Well I heard Dr. Humes stating that -&lt;br /&gt;   he said ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLASHBACK TO: Bethesda autopsy room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         HUMES&lt;br /&gt;   Who's in charge here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           ARMY GENERAL&lt;br /&gt;    I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           FINCK&lt;br /&gt;           (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    I don't remember his name.  You must&lt;br /&gt;    understand it was quite crowded, and&lt;br /&gt;    when you are called in circumstances&lt;br /&gt;    like that to look at the wound of the&lt;br /&gt;   President who is dead, you don't look&lt;br /&gt;   around too much to ask people for their&lt;br /&gt; names and who they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    But you were a qualified pathologist.&lt;br /&gt;   Was this Army general a qualified&lt;br /&gt;       pathologist?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            FINCK&lt;br /&gt;           (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    But you took his orders.  He was&lt;br /&gt;        directing the autopsy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          FINCK&lt;br /&gt;           (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    No, because there were others.  There were&lt;br /&gt;      admirals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    There were admirals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            FINCK&lt;br /&gt;           (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Oh yes, there were admirals - and when&lt;br /&gt;  you are a lieutenant colonel in the Army&lt;br /&gt;        you just follow orders, and at the end of&lt;br /&gt;       the autopsy we were specifically told -&lt;br /&gt; as I recall it was Admiral Kenney, the&lt;br /&gt;  Surgeon General of the Navy - we were&lt;br /&gt;   specifically told not to discuss the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              KENNEY&lt;br /&gt;          (in Bethesda scene)&lt;br /&gt;     Gentlemen, what you've seen in this room&lt;br /&gt;        is intensely private to the Kennedy family&lt;br /&gt;      and it is not our business to ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jim turns away from the jury.  His point is made.  Finck is no longer on&lt;br /&gt;the stand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DESTRUCTION OF CRIME SCENE EVIDENCE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                JIM&lt;br /&gt;     In addition to which, 1) the chief&lt;br /&gt;      pathologist, Commander Humes, by his&lt;br /&gt;    own admission voluntarily burned his&lt;br /&gt;    autopsy notes, 2)never released the&lt;br /&gt;     autopsy photos to the public, 3)&lt;br /&gt;        President Johnson ordered the blood&lt;br /&gt;     soaked limousine filled with bullet&lt;br /&gt;     holes and clues to be immediately&lt;br /&gt;       washed and rebuilt, 4) sent John&lt;br /&gt;        Connally's bloody suit right to the&lt;br /&gt;     cleaners, and 5) when my office finally&lt;br /&gt; got a court order to examine President&lt;br /&gt;  Kennedy's brain in the National&lt;br /&gt; Archives in the hopes of finding from&lt;br /&gt;   what direction the bullets came, we&lt;br /&gt;     were told by the government the President's&lt;br /&gt;     brain had disappeared!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a pause, and then a murmur from the court.  Jim is on a roll and&lt;br /&gt;knows it.  The faces in the courtroom are with him, absorbed, horrified.&lt;br /&gt;The law students are still there, they have been since day one.  But it&lt;br /&gt;is Liz's interest that touches him the most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               JIM&lt;br /&gt;     So what really happened that day?  Let's&lt;br /&gt;        just for a moment speculate, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;  We have the epileptic seizure around&lt;br /&gt;    12:15 P.M. ... distracting the police,&lt;br /&gt;  making it easier for the shooters to&lt;br /&gt;    move into their places.  The epileptic&lt;br /&gt;  later vanished, never checking into the&lt;br /&gt; hospital.  The A Team gets on the 6th&lt;br /&gt;   floor of the Book Depository ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLASHBACK TO: the Book Depository, 1963.  A shooter and two spotters&lt;br /&gt;dressed as working men move into the Oswald spot.  One spotter produces&lt;br /&gt;the Mannlicher-Carcano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    They were refurbishing the floors in&lt;br /&gt;    the Depository that week, which allowed&lt;br /&gt; unknown workmen in and out of the&lt;br /&gt;       building.  The men move quickly into&lt;br /&gt;    position just minutes before the&lt;br /&gt;        shooting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The camera takes the shooter's point of view: we see down the street&lt;br /&gt;through a scope.  His spotter wears a radio earpiece.  The second&lt;br /&gt;spotter is working out of the southeast window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    The second spotter is probably calling&lt;br /&gt;  all the shots on a radio to the two&lt;br /&gt;     other teams.  He as the best overall&lt;br /&gt;    view - "the God spot".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside the Dal - Tex Building, a shooter and a spotter dressed as air -&lt;br /&gt;conditioning men move into a small second - story textile storage room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    B Team - one rifleman and one spotter&lt;br /&gt;   with a headset, with access to the&lt;br /&gt;      building - moves into a low floor of the&lt;br /&gt;        Dal - Tex Building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the picket fence a shooter in a Dallas Police uniform moves into&lt;br /&gt;place, aiming up Elm Street.  His spotter has a radio to his ear.&lt;br /&gt;Another man in a Secret Service suit moves further down the fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    The third team, the C Team, moves in&lt;br /&gt;    behind the picket fence above the Grassy&lt;br /&gt;        Knoll, where the shooter and the spotter&lt;br /&gt;        are first seen by the late Lee Bowers&lt;br /&gt;   in the watchtower of the railyard.  They&lt;br /&gt;        have the best position of all.  Kennedy&lt;br /&gt; is close and on a flat low trajectory.&lt;br /&gt;  Part of this team is a coordinator who's&lt;br /&gt;        flashed security credentials at several&lt;br /&gt; people, chasing them out of the parking&lt;br /&gt; lot area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An "agent" in tie and suit moves on the underpass, keeping an eye out.&lt;br /&gt;In the crowd on Elm Street, we catch brief glimpses of the umbrella man&lt;br /&gt;and the Cuban, neither of them watching Kennedy, both looking around to&lt;br /&gt;their teams.  There is a third man, heavyset, in a construction helmet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Probably two to three more men are down&lt;br /&gt; in the crowd on Elm ... ten to twelve&lt;br /&gt;   men ... three teams, three shooters.&lt;br /&gt;    The triangulation of fire Clay Shaw&lt;br /&gt;     and David Ferrie discussed two months&lt;br /&gt;   before.  They've walked the Plaza, they&lt;br /&gt; know every inch.  They've calibrated their&lt;br /&gt;      sights, practiced on moving targets.&lt;br /&gt;    They're ready.  It's going to be a turkey&lt;br /&gt;       shoot.  Kennedy's motorcade makes the&lt;br /&gt;   turn from Main onto Houston.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J.F.K. waves and turns in slow motion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Six witnesses see two gunmen on the&lt;br /&gt;     sixth floor of the Depository moving&lt;br /&gt;    around.  Some of them think they're&lt;br /&gt;     policemen with rifles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From Houston Street we look up at the sixth floor of the Book Depository&lt;br /&gt;and see the shooter moving around.  Arnold Rowland points him out to his&lt;br /&gt;wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             ARNOLD&lt;br /&gt;          (under)&lt;br /&gt; ... probably a security agent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Dallas County Jail, Johnny Powell is one of many convicts housed&lt;br /&gt;on the sixth floor - the same height as the men in the Book Depository.&lt;br /&gt;We look across to the Depository through cell bars.  Johnny and various&lt;br /&gt;cell mates are watching two men in the sixth floor of the Depository.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    John Powell, a prisoner on the sixth floor&lt;br /&gt;      of the Dallas County Jail, sees them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           POWELL&lt;br /&gt;          (under)&lt;br /&gt; ... quite a few of us saw them.  Everybody&lt;br /&gt;      was hollering and yelling and that.  We&lt;br /&gt; thought is was security guys ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    ... they don't shoot him coming up Houston,&lt;br /&gt;     which is the easiest shot for a single&lt;br /&gt;  shooter in the Book Depository, but they&lt;br /&gt;        wait till he gets to the killing zone&lt;br /&gt;   between three rifles.  Kennedy makes the&lt;br /&gt;        final turn from Houston onto Elm, slowing&lt;br /&gt;       down to some 11 miles per hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the shooters tighten, taking aim.  It's a tense moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    The shooters across Dealey Plaza tighten,&lt;br /&gt;       taking their aim across their sights ...&lt;br /&gt;        waiting for the radio to say "Green&lt;br /&gt;     Green!" or "Abort Abort!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The camera is on Kennedy waving.  A MONTAGE follows - all the faces in&lt;br /&gt;the square that we've introduced in the movie now appear one after the&lt;br /&gt;other, watching - the killers, the man with the umbrella, the Newman&lt;br /&gt;family, Mary Moorman photographing, Jean Hill, Abraham Zapruder filming&lt;br /&gt;it, S.M. Holland, Patrolman Harkness ... INTERCUT with the Zapruder and&lt;br /&gt;Nix films on J.F.K. in the final seconds coming abreast of the Stemmons&lt;br /&gt;Freeway sign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    The first shot rings out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: the Dal - Tex shooter firing.  We see the back of Kennedy's head&lt;br /&gt;through his gun sight.  Kennedy (stand in) reacts in the Zapruder film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Sounding like a backfire, it misses&lt;br /&gt;     completely ... Frame 161, Kennedy stops&lt;br /&gt; waving as he hears something.  Connally&lt;br /&gt; turns his head slightly to the right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything goes off very fast now.  Repeating intercuts are slowed down&lt;br /&gt;with shots of Kennedy reacting in the Zapruder film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Frame 193 - the second shot hits Kennedy&lt;br /&gt;        in the throat from the front.  Frame 225 -&lt;br /&gt;      the President emerging from the road sign.&lt;br /&gt;      He obviously has been hit, raising his arms&lt;br /&gt;     to his throat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: the picket fence shooter hitting him from the fence.  We see&lt;br /&gt;Kennedy (stand in) from the point of view of his telescopic sight.  In&lt;br /&gt;the Zapruder film, we see Kennedy clutch his throat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            JIM&lt;br /&gt;     Frame 232, the third shot - the President&lt;br /&gt;       has been hit in the back, drawing him&lt;br /&gt;   downward and forward.  Connally, you will&lt;br /&gt;       notice, shows no signs at all of being&lt;br /&gt;  hit.  He is visibly holding his Stetson&lt;br /&gt; which is impossible if his wrist has&lt;br /&gt;    been shattered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: the Dal - Tex shooter.  We see Kennedy from his point of view,&lt;br /&gt;and the Zapruder film in slow motion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Connally's turning now here.  Frame 238&lt;br /&gt; ... the fourth shot misses Kennedy and&lt;br /&gt;  takes Connally in the back.  This is the&lt;br /&gt;        key shot that proves two rifles from the&lt;br /&gt;        rear.  This is 1.6 seconds after the third&lt;br /&gt;      shot, and we know no manual bolt action&lt;br /&gt; rifle can be recycled in that time.&lt;br /&gt;     Connally is hit, his mouth drops, he yells&lt;br /&gt;      out, "My God, they're going to kill us&lt;br /&gt;  all" ... Here ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: the sixth floor shooter firing rapidly and missing Kennedy but&lt;br /&gt;hitting Connally (stand in).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    ... the umbrella man is signalling "He's&lt;br /&gt;        not dead.  Keep shooting."  James Tague&lt;br /&gt; down at the underpass is hit sometime now&lt;br /&gt;       by another shot that misses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: the umbrella manpumping his umbrella.  The Cuban is&lt;br /&gt;looking off.  The man on the curb in the construction helmet is looking&lt;br /&gt;not at J.F.K. but up at the Book Depository.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    The car brakes.  The fifth and fatal&lt;br /&gt;    shot - frame 313 - takes Kennedy in the&lt;br /&gt; head from the front ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO the picket fence shooter.  We see J.F.K. from his point of view.&lt;br /&gt;He fires, and then we see Kennedy in the Zapruder film flying backwards&lt;br /&gt;and to his left in a ferocious, conclusive spray of blood and brain&lt;br /&gt;tissue.  We repeat the shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    This is the key shot.  Watch it again.&lt;br /&gt;  The President going back to his left.&lt;br /&gt;   Shot from the front and right.  Totally&lt;br /&gt; inconsistent with the shot from the&lt;br /&gt;     Depository.  Again - (repeats) ... back&lt;br /&gt; and two the left.  (he repeats it like&lt;br /&gt;  a mantra) ... back and to the left ...&lt;br /&gt;  back and to the left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kennedy's car speeds off.  Jackie is like a crawling animal in a pillbox&lt;br /&gt;hat on the back of the car.  The people on the other side of the&lt;br /&gt;underpass wave innocently as the car speeds through with it's horrifying&lt;br /&gt;contents.  Pigeons fly off the rooftop of the Book Depository.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    What happens then?  Pandemonium.  The&lt;br /&gt;   shooters quickly disassemble their&lt;br /&gt;      various weapons, all except the Oswald&lt;br /&gt;  rifle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: sixth floor spotter dumping the Mannlicher - Carcano in a corner&lt;br /&gt;as he leaves ... and then to the Dal - Tex spotter and shooter, who&lt;br /&gt;break down the gun and move out ... and then to the spotter with the&lt;br /&gt;fence shooter, who quickly breaks down the weapon, throwing it in the&lt;br /&gt;trunk of a car parked at the fence.  He walks away.  The fence shooter,&lt;br /&gt;dressed as a policeman, blends with the crowd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: the umbrella man and the Cuban sitting quietly together on the&lt;br /&gt;north side of the curb of Elm Street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: stunned, confused, people in the crowd - some lying on the&lt;br /&gt;ground, some running for the Grassy Knoll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in the courtroom, patrolman Joe Smith is on the stand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHOOTERS BY THE PICKET FENCE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Patrolman Joe Smith rushed into the&lt;br /&gt;     parking lot behind the fence.  He&lt;br /&gt;       smelled gunpowder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLASHBACK TO: the picket fence area where, with his gun drawn, Smith&lt;br /&gt;rushes across to a man standing by a car who reacts quickly, producing&lt;br /&gt;credentials.  He is one of the hoboes.  There's a strange moment when&lt;br /&gt;the camera moves from Smith's eyes to the man's fingernails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           SMITH&lt;br /&gt;           (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    ... the character produces credentials&lt;br /&gt;  from his pocket which showed him to be&lt;br /&gt;  Secret Service.  So I accepted that and&lt;br /&gt; let him go and continued our search.&lt;br /&gt;    But I regretted it, 'cause this guy&lt;br /&gt;     looked like an auto mechanic.  He had on&lt;br /&gt;        a sports shirt and pants, but he had&lt;br /&gt;    dirty fingernails.  Afterwards it didn't&lt;br /&gt;        ring true, but at the time we were so&lt;br /&gt;   pressed for time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Yet all Secret Servicemen in Dallas that&lt;br /&gt;        day are accounted for.  None were on foot&lt;br /&gt;       in Dealey Plaza before or after the shooting,&lt;br /&gt;   till Dallas Secret Service Chief Forrest&lt;br /&gt;        Sorrels returned at 12:55.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in the courtroom, Liz is totally absorbed.  Jim exchanges looks&lt;br /&gt;with her.  The camera movies in for a close - up of Jim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (pausing for effect)&lt;br /&gt;    What else was going on in Dealey Plaza&lt;br /&gt;  that day?  At least 12 other individuals&lt;br /&gt;        were taken into custody by Dallas police.&lt;br /&gt;       No records of their arrests.  Men acting&lt;br /&gt;        like hoboes were being pulled off trains,&lt;br /&gt;       marched through Dealey Plaza, photographed,&lt;br /&gt;     and yet there is no records of their&lt;br /&gt;    arrests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLASHBACK TO: the three hoboes being arrested ... marching across Dealey&lt;br /&gt;Plaza.  The hoboes look familiar now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Men identifying themselves as Secret&lt;br /&gt;    Service Agents were all over the place.&lt;br /&gt; But who was impersonating them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLASHBACK TO: men in suits, ties, and hats moving people out of the&lt;br /&gt;parking lot area ... turning a policeman back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLASHBACK TO: the Cuban, putting away a radio, and the umbrella man, who&lt;br /&gt;now rise and leave the area in opposite directions.&lt;br /&gt;EXONERATING OSWALD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    And where was Lee Oswald?  Probably&lt;br /&gt;     in the second floor snack room.  Eddie&lt;br /&gt;  Piper and William Shelly saw Oswald&lt;br /&gt;     eating lunch in the first floor lunch&lt;br /&gt;   room around twelve.  Around 12:15, on&lt;br /&gt;   her way out of the building to see the&lt;br /&gt;  motorcade, secretary Carolyn Arnold saw&lt;br /&gt; Oswald in the second floor snack room,&lt;br /&gt;  where he said he went for a Coke ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the second floor lunchroom of the Book Depository we see Carolyn&lt;br /&gt;Arnold, a pregnant secretary, crossing past Oswald, who is in a booth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           CAROLYN ARNOLD&lt;br /&gt;          (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    He was sitting in one of the booths on&lt;br /&gt;  the right hand side of the room.  He&lt;br /&gt;    was alone as usual and appeared to be&lt;br /&gt;   having lunch.  I did not speak to him&lt;br /&gt;   but I recognized clearly.  I remember&lt;br /&gt;   it was 12:15 or later.  It coulda been&lt;br /&gt;  12:25, five minutes before the&lt;br /&gt;  assassination, I don't exactly remember.&lt;br /&gt;        I was pregnant and I had a craving for&lt;br /&gt;  a glass of water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the sixth floor of the depository, Bonnie Ray Williams is eating a&lt;br /&gt;chicken lunch, alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    At the same time, Bonnie Ray Williams is&lt;br /&gt;        supposedly eating his chicken lunch on&lt;br /&gt;  the sixth floor, at least until 12:15,&lt;br /&gt;  maybe 12:20 ... he sees nobody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the street, Arnold Rowland and his wife look up at the sixth floor&lt;br /&gt;windows and we see, from their point of view, two shadowy figures ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Down on the street, Arnold Rowland was&lt;br /&gt;  seeing two men in the sixth floor&lt;br /&gt;       windows ... presumably after Bonnie Ray&lt;br /&gt; Williams finished his lunch and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We see footage of J.F.K. coming up Houston - waving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oswald walks into the second floor lunchroom as policeman Marrion Baker&lt;br /&gt;runs in, gun at his side.  He is about 30 feet from Oswald.  Roy Truly,&lt;br /&gt;the superintendent, runs in a moment later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Kennedy was running five minutes late&lt;br /&gt;   for his appointment with death.  He was&lt;br /&gt; due at 12:25.  If Oswald was the assassin,&lt;br /&gt;      he was certainly pretty non-chalant about&lt;br /&gt;       getting himself into position.  Later he&lt;br /&gt;        told Dallas police he was standing in the&lt;br /&gt;       second floor snackroom.  Probably told to&lt;br /&gt;       wait there for a phone call by his handler.&lt;br /&gt;     The phones were in the adjacent and empty&lt;br /&gt;       second floor offices, but the call never&lt;br /&gt;        came.  A maximum 90 seconds after Kennedy&lt;br /&gt;       is shot, patrolman Marrion Baker runs into&lt;br /&gt;      Oswald in that second story lunchroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          BAKER&lt;br /&gt;   Hey you!&lt;br /&gt;                (to Truly)&lt;br /&gt;      Do you know this man?  Is he an employee?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               TRULY&lt;br /&gt;   Yes he is.&lt;br /&gt;              (as Baker moves on)&lt;br /&gt;     The President's been shot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oswald reacts as if hearing it for the first time.  Truly and Baker&lt;br /&gt;continue running up the stairs.  Oswald proceeds to get a Coke and&lt;br /&gt;continues out of the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: the sixth floor, where we see Oswald as the shooter.  After&lt;br /&gt;firing, he runs full speed for the stairs, stashing the rifle on the&lt;br /&gt;other side of the loft.  Our camera follows him roughly down stairs - we&lt;br /&gt;hear the loud sound of his shoes banging on the hollow wood - to the&lt;br /&gt;lunchroom, where Patrolman Baker and Superintendent Truly run in.  Then&lt;br /&gt;they start to repeat the same action as seen in the previous scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    ... but what the Warren Report would&lt;br /&gt;    have us believe is that after firing 3&lt;br /&gt;  bolt action shots in 5.6 seconds, Oswald&lt;br /&gt;        then leaves three cartridges neatly side&lt;br /&gt;        by side in the firing nest, wipes the&lt;br /&gt;   rifle clear of fingerprints, stashes the&lt;br /&gt;        rifle on the other side of the loft,&lt;br /&gt;    sprints down five flights of stairs, past&lt;br /&gt;       witnesses Victoria Adams and Sandra Styles&lt;br /&gt;      who never see him, and then shows up cool&lt;br /&gt;       and calm on the second floor in front of&lt;br /&gt;        Patrolman Baker - all this within a&lt;br /&gt;     maximum 90 seconds of the shooting.  Is&lt;br /&gt; he out of breath?  According to Baker,&lt;br /&gt;  absolutely not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: the second floor.  Oswald ambles past Mrs. Reid, a secretary in&lt;br /&gt;the second floor office, on his way out, Coke bottle in hand and wearing&lt;br /&gt;his usual dreamy look ... there's a lingering close - up on his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Assuming he is the sole assassin, Oswald&lt;br /&gt;        is now free to escape from the building.&lt;br /&gt;        The longer he delays, the more chance the&lt;br /&gt;       building will be sealed by the police.&lt;br /&gt;  Is he guilty?  Does he walk out the&lt;br /&gt;     nearest staircase?  No, he buys a Coke&lt;br /&gt;  and at a slow pace, spotted by Mrs. Reid&lt;br /&gt;        in the second floor office, he strolls&lt;br /&gt;  out the more distant front exit, where&lt;br /&gt;  the cops start to gather ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside, we see Oswald stroll out the door of the Book Depository into&lt;br /&gt;the crowd.  He heads for the bus stop to the east.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Oddly, considering three shots are&lt;br /&gt;      supposed to have come from there, nobody&lt;br /&gt;        seals the Depository for ten more&lt;br /&gt;       minutes.  Oswald slips out, as do&lt;br /&gt;       several other employees.  Of course,&lt;br /&gt;    when he realized something had gone&lt;br /&gt;     wrong and the President really had&lt;br /&gt;      been shot, he knew there was a problem.&lt;br /&gt; He may even have known he was the patsy.&lt;br /&gt;        An intuition maybe - the President&lt;br /&gt;      killed in spite of his warning.  The&lt;br /&gt;    phone call that never came.  Perhaps&lt;br /&gt;    fear now came to Lee Oswald.  He wasn't&lt;br /&gt; going to stand around for roll call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in the courtroom, Jim continues speaking:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;     The story gets pretty confusing now -&lt;br /&gt;   more twists in it than a watersnake.&lt;br /&gt;    Richard Carr says he saw four men take&lt;br /&gt;  off from the Book Depository in a&lt;br /&gt;       Rambler that possibly belongs to Janet&lt;br /&gt;  Williams.  Deputy Roger Craig says two&lt;br /&gt;  men picked up Oswald in the same Rambler&lt;br /&gt;        a few minutes later.  Other people say&lt;br /&gt;  Oswald took a bus out of there, and&lt;br /&gt;     then because he was stuck in traffic,&lt;br /&gt;   he hopped a cab to his rooming house&lt;br /&gt;    in Oak Cliff ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLASHBACK TO: Oswald's boarding house.  Oswald enters his room, passing&lt;br /&gt;Earlene Roberts, the heavyset white housekeeper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    ... we must assume he wanted to get&lt;br /&gt;     back in touch with his intell team,&lt;br /&gt;     probably at a safehouse or at the&lt;br /&gt;       Texas Theatre, but how could he be&lt;br /&gt;      sure?  He didn't know who to trust&lt;br /&gt;      anymore ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             ROBERTS&lt;br /&gt;         (watching TV)&lt;br /&gt;   My God, did you see that, Mr. Lee?&lt;br /&gt;      A man shot the President.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The camera closes in on Oswald's perplexed face.  Earlene peeks out the&lt;br /&gt;shades as she hears two short honks on a horn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside is a black police car driven by Tippit.  Also in the car is the&lt;br /&gt;fence shooter, dressed as a Dallas policeman.  The car drives by, honks&lt;br /&gt;twice, waits, then moves away.  During this visual, we see the fence&lt;br /&gt;shooter changing his uniform into civilian clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DISCREPENCIES IN TIPPET MURDER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Oswald returns to this rooming house&lt;br /&gt;    around 1 P.M., half hour after the&lt;br /&gt;      assassination, puts on his jacket,&lt;br /&gt;      grabs his .38 revolver, leaves at 1:04&lt;br /&gt;  ... Earlene Roberts, the housekeeper,&lt;br /&gt;   says she heard two beeps on a car horn&lt;br /&gt;  and two uniformed cops pulled up to the&lt;br /&gt; house while Oswald was in his room, like&lt;br /&gt;        it was a signal or something ... Officer&lt;br /&gt;        Tippit is shot between 1:10 and 1:15&lt;br /&gt;    about a mile away.  Though no one actually&lt;br /&gt;      saw him walking or jogging, the Government&lt;br /&gt;      says Oswald covered that distance.&lt;br /&gt;      Incidentally, that walk, if he did it, is&lt;br /&gt;       in a straight line toward Jack Ruby's&lt;br /&gt;   house.  Giving the government the benefit&lt;br /&gt;       of the doubt, Oswald would have had to&lt;br /&gt;  jog a mile in six to eleven minutes and&lt;br /&gt; commit the murder, then reverse direction&lt;br /&gt;       and walk 3/5 of a mile to the Texas&lt;br /&gt;     Theatre and arrive sometime before 1:30.&lt;br /&gt;        That's some walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a street, Oswald walks alone, fast.  A police car pulls up alongside&lt;br /&gt;him on 10th Street.  Oswald leans on the passenger side of the window.&lt;br /&gt;Officer Tippit, suspicious, gets out to question him.  Oswald pulls his&lt;br /&gt;.38 revolver and shoots him down in the street with 5 shots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    It's also a useful conclusion.  After all,&lt;br /&gt;      why else would Oswald kill Officer Tippit,&lt;br /&gt;      unless he just shot the President and&lt;br /&gt;   feared arrest?  Not one credible witness&lt;br /&gt;        could identify Oswald as Tippit's killer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Domingo Benavides, hidden in his truck only a few yards away, watches as&lt;br /&gt;another unidentified man (not seen before) shoots and walks away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Domingo Benavides, the closest witness to&lt;br /&gt;       the shooting, refused to identify Oswald&lt;br /&gt;        as the killer and was never taken to a&lt;br /&gt;  lineup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We see Acquilla Clemons, a black woman, looking on.  She watches as two&lt;br /&gt;men kill Tippit.  One of them resembles the fence shooter.  The other&lt;br /&gt;one is a mystery figure, seen before in the fringes.  The men walk off&lt;br /&gt;quickly in opposite directions.  We notice a policeman's uniform hanging&lt;br /&gt;in the back seat of Tippit's car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Acquilla Clemons saw the killer with another&lt;br /&gt;    man and says they went off in separate&lt;br /&gt;  directions.  Mrs. Clemons was never taken to&lt;br /&gt;    lineup or to the Warren Commission.  Mr.&lt;br /&gt;        Frank Wright, who saw the killer run away,&lt;br /&gt;      stated flatly that the killer was not Lee&lt;br /&gt;       Oswald.  Oswald is found with a .38 revolver.&lt;br /&gt;   Tippit is killed with a .38 automatic.  At&lt;br /&gt;      the scene of the crime Officer J.M. Poe&lt;br /&gt; marks the shells with his initials to record&lt;br /&gt;    the chain of evidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: Policeman Poe marking the bullets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Those initials are not on the three&lt;br /&gt;     cartridge cases which the Warren Commission&lt;br /&gt;     presents to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a Dallas avenue near the Texas Theatre, Oswald moves along, spooked.&lt;br /&gt;Police cars roar by with sirens blaring.  Johnny Brewer, in a shoestore,&lt;br /&gt;spots him and follows him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Oswald is next seen by shoe salesman&lt;br /&gt;    Johnny Brewer lurking along Jefferson&lt;br /&gt;   Avenue.  Oswald is scared.  He begins&lt;br /&gt;Mannlicher-Carcano rifle allegedly used by Lee&lt;br /&gt; Harvey Oswald to assassinate President John F. Kennedy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NARA to realize the full implications of this&lt;br /&gt;        thing.  He goes into the Texas Theatre,&lt;br /&gt; possibly his prearranged meeting point,&lt;br /&gt; but though he has $14 in his pocket, he&lt;br /&gt; does not buy the 75 - cent ticket.  Brewer&lt;br /&gt;      has the cashier call the police.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside the Texas Theatre Oswald walks past the cashier, who is out on&lt;br /&gt;the sidewalk watching the police cars go by.  A double feature is&lt;br /&gt;playing - Cry of Battle with Van Heflin and War is Hell.  He goes in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: 30 officers arriving at the theatre in a fleet of patrol cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    ... in response to the cashier's call, at&lt;br /&gt;       least thirty officers in a fleet of patrol&lt;br /&gt;      cars descend on the movie theatre.  This has&lt;br /&gt;    to be the most remarkable example of police&lt;br /&gt;     intuition since the Reichstag fire.  I don't&lt;br /&gt;    buy it.  They knew - someone knew - Oswald&lt;br /&gt;      was going to be there.  In fact, as early as&lt;br /&gt;    12:44, only 14 minutes after the assassination,&lt;br /&gt; the police radio put out a descriptio&lt;br /&gt;   matching Oswald's size and build.  Brewer&lt;br /&gt;       says the man was wearing a jacket, but the&lt;br /&gt;      police say the man who shot Tippit left his&lt;br /&gt;     jacket behind.  Butch Burroughs, theatre&lt;br /&gt;        manager, says Oswald bought some popcorn from&lt;br /&gt;   him at the time of the Tippit slaying.&lt;br /&gt;  Burroughs and witness Bernard Haire also&lt;br /&gt;        said there was an Oswald look - alike taken&lt;br /&gt;     from the theatre.  Perhaps it was he who&lt;br /&gt;        sneaked into the theatre just after 1:30.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside the theatre, Cry of Battle is on the screen.  Twelve to fourteen&lt;br /&gt;spectators sit scattered between the balcony and ground floor.  Brewer&lt;br /&gt;leads the officers onto the stage and the lights come on.  He points to&lt;br /&gt;Oswald.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    In any case, Brewer helpfully leads the&lt;br /&gt; cops into the theatre and from the stage&lt;br /&gt;        points Oswald out ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cops advance on Oswald, who jumps up, as if expecting to be shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              OSWALD&lt;br /&gt;  This is it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             POLICEMAN&lt;br /&gt;       Kill the President, will you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scared, Oswald takes a swing at a policeman.  He pulls out his gun.  The&lt;br /&gt;officers close in on him from the rear and front.  A wrestling and&lt;br /&gt;shoving match ensues.  One officer gets a chokehold on Oswald and&lt;br /&gt;another one hits him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    The cops have their man!  It was already&lt;br /&gt;        been decided - in Washington.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside the theatre, Oswald, his eye blackened, is led out by the&lt;br /&gt;phalanx of officers.  They are surrounded by an angry crowd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              CROWD&lt;br /&gt;   Kill him!  Kill him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Dr. Best, Himmler's right hand man in the&lt;br /&gt;       Gestapo, once said "as long as the police&lt;br /&gt;       carries out the will of the leadership, it&lt;br /&gt;      is acting legally."  That mindset allowed&lt;br /&gt;       for 400 political murders in the Weimar&lt;br /&gt; Republic of 1923 - 32, where the courts&lt;br /&gt; were controlled and the guilty acquitted.&lt;br /&gt;       Oswald must've felt like Josef K in Kafka's&lt;br /&gt;     "The Trial".  He was never told the reason&lt;br /&gt;      of his arrest, he does not know the unseen&lt;br /&gt;      forces ranging against him, he cries out&lt;br /&gt;        his outrage in the police lineup just like&lt;br /&gt;      Josef K excoriates the judge for not being&lt;br /&gt;      told the charges against him.  But the&lt;br /&gt;  state is deaf.  The quarry is caught.  By&lt;br /&gt;       the time he is brought from the theatre,&lt;br /&gt;        a large crowd is waiting to scream at&lt;br /&gt;   him.  By the time he reaches police&lt;br /&gt;     headquarters, he is booked for murdering&lt;br /&gt;        Tippit ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the Dallas police station, Dallas Police Captain Will Fritz takes a&lt;br /&gt;call from a high official in Washington.  In the background we notice&lt;br /&gt;Lee Oswald continuing to be questioned by federal agents.  We hear&lt;br /&gt;Johnson's distinctive Texas drawl but we never see him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    No legal counsel is provided.  No record&lt;br /&gt;        made of the long questioning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           HIGH OFFICIAL VOICE&lt;br /&gt;     Howdy there, Cap'n.  Thanks for taking care&lt;br /&gt;     of us down in Dallas.  Lady Bird and I will&lt;br /&gt;     always be grateful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             FRITZ&lt;br /&gt;   Thank you, Mr. President.  We're doing&lt;br /&gt;  our best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               HIGH OFFICIAL VOICE&lt;br /&gt;     Cap'n, I know you're working like a hound&lt;br /&gt;       dog down there to get this mess wrapped up,&lt;br /&gt;     but I gotta tell you there's too much&lt;br /&gt;   confusion coming out of Dallas now.  The&lt;br /&gt;        TVs and the papers are full of rumour 'bout&lt;br /&gt;     conspiracies.  Two gunmen, two rifles, the&lt;br /&gt;      Russkies done it, the Cubans done it, that&lt;br /&gt;      kinda loose talk, it's carin' the shit&lt;br /&gt;  outta people, bubba'.  This thing could lead&lt;br /&gt;    us into a war that could cost 40 million&lt;br /&gt;        lives.  We got to show'em we got this thing&lt;br /&gt;     under control.  No question, no doubts, for&lt;br /&gt;     the good of our country ... you hear me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                FRITZ&lt;br /&gt;   Yes, sir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               HIGH OFFICIAL VOICE&lt;br /&gt;     Cap'n, you got your man, the investigation's&lt;br /&gt;    over, that's what people want to hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The camera closes in on Oswald in the background.  He turns to an unseen&lt;br /&gt;Deputy, sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              OSWALD&lt;br /&gt;  Now everyone will know who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    By the time the sun rose the next morning,&lt;br /&gt;      he is booked for murdering the President.&lt;br /&gt;       The whole country - fueled by the media -&lt;br /&gt;       assumes he's guilty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an underground police garage, we see Jack Ruby being allowed in via&lt;br /&gt;an interior staircase by his police contact.  He moves towards the outer&lt;br /&gt;edge of reporters, nervous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oswald comes out with his two guards.  We see a repeat of the&lt;br /&gt;assassination in stop time ... Ruby's eyes, Oswald's ... do they&lt;br /&gt;recognize each other?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Under the guise of a patriotic nightclub&lt;br /&gt;        owner out to spare Jackie Kennedy from&lt;br /&gt;  having to testify at a trial, Jack Ruby&lt;br /&gt; is shown into the underground garage by&lt;br /&gt; one of his inside men on the Dallas Police&lt;br /&gt;      Force, and when he's ready Oswald is brought&lt;br /&gt;    out like a sacrificial lamb and nicely&lt;br /&gt;  disposed of as an enemy of the people.  By&lt;br /&gt;      early Sunday afternoon, the autopsy has been&lt;br /&gt;    completed on him.  Who grieves for Lee Harvey&lt;br /&gt;   Oswald?  Buried in a cheap grave under the&lt;br /&gt;      name "Oswald"?  No one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We see Oswald dying on the floor of the police station.  A paramedic&lt;br /&gt;pushes in and starts administering artificial respiration, which only&lt;br /&gt;aggravates the internal hemorrhaging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a Texas cemetery, Oswald's mother weeps.  Oswald is buried with a few&lt;br /&gt;people present, but there are no details, no dates.  We see Marina&lt;br /&gt;whisked out by agents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO Kennedy's funeral, which, in contrast, attracts thousands of&lt;br /&gt;mourners.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Within minutes false statements and press&lt;br /&gt;       leaks about Lee Oswald circulate the globe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLASHBACK TO X: reading about it in the New Zealand Airport, and then&lt;br /&gt;back to the courtroom in 1969.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          JIM&lt;br /&gt;     The Official Legend is created and the media&lt;br /&gt;    takes it from there.  The glitter of official&lt;br /&gt;   lies and the epic splendor of the thought -&lt;br /&gt;     numbing funeral of J.F.K. confuse the eye&lt;br /&gt;       and confound the understanding.  Hitler&lt;br /&gt; always said "the bigger the lie, the more&lt;br /&gt;       people will believe it."  Lee Oswald - a&lt;br /&gt;        crazed, lonely man who wanted attention and&lt;br /&gt;     got it by killing a President, was only the&lt;br /&gt;     first in a long line of patsies.  In later&lt;br /&gt;      years Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King,&lt;br /&gt;     men whose commitment to change and to peace&lt;br /&gt;     would make them dangerous to men who are&lt;br /&gt;        committed to war, would follow, also killed&lt;br /&gt;     by such "lonely, crazed men," who remove&lt;br /&gt;        our guilt by making murder a meaningless&lt;br /&gt;        act of a loner.  We have all become Hamlets&lt;br /&gt;     in our country - children of a slain father&lt;br /&gt;     - leader whose killers still possess the&lt;br /&gt;        throne.  The ghost of John F. Kennedy&lt;br /&gt;   confronts us with the secret murder at the&lt;br /&gt;      heart of the American dream.  He forces on&lt;br /&gt;      us the appalling questions:  Of what is our&lt;br /&gt;     Constitution made?  What is our citizenship,&lt;br /&gt;    and more, our lives worth?  What is the&lt;br /&gt; future of a democracy where a President can&lt;br /&gt;     be assassinated under conspicuously&lt;br /&gt;     suspicious circumstances while the machinery&lt;br /&gt;    of legal action scarcely trembles?  How&lt;br /&gt; many political murders, disguised as heart&lt;br /&gt;      attacks, cancer, suicides, airplane and car&lt;br /&gt;     crashes, drug overdoses will occur before&lt;br /&gt;       they are exposed for what they are?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liz watches, moved.  Susie, Al and Numa are also there for the&lt;br /&gt;summation.  Even Lou Ivon has come back to support his friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         JIM&lt;br /&gt;     "Treason doth never prosper," wrote an&lt;br /&gt;  English poet, "What's the reason?  For if&lt;br /&gt;       it prosper, none dare call it treason."&lt;br /&gt; The generals who sent Dreyfus to Devils&lt;br /&gt; Island were among the most honorable men&lt;br /&gt;        in France, the men who killed Caesar were&lt;br /&gt;       among the most honorable men in Rome.  And&lt;br /&gt;      the men who killed Kennedy, no doubt, were&lt;br /&gt;      honorable men.  I believe we have reached&lt;br /&gt;       a time in our country, similar to what life&lt;br /&gt;     must've been like under Hitler in the 30's,&lt;br /&gt;     except we don't realize it because Fascism&lt;br /&gt;      in our country takes the benign disguise&lt;br /&gt;        of liberal democracy.  There won't be such&lt;br /&gt;      familiar signs as swastikas.  We won't build&lt;br /&gt;    Dachaus and Auschwitzes.  We're not going&lt;br /&gt;       to wake up one morning and suddenly find&lt;br /&gt;        ourselves in gray uniforms goose - stepping&lt;br /&gt;     off to work ... "Fascism will come," Huey&lt;br /&gt;       Long once said. "in the name of anti -&lt;br /&gt;  fascism" - it will come in the name of your&lt;br /&gt;     security - they call it "National Security,"&lt;br /&gt;    it will come with the mass media manipulating&lt;br /&gt;   a clever concentration camp of the mind.&lt;br /&gt;        The super state will provide you tranquility&lt;br /&gt;    above the truth, the super state will make&lt;br /&gt;      you believe you are living in the best of&lt;br /&gt;       all possible worlds, and in order to do so&lt;br /&gt;      will rewrite history as it sees fit.  George&lt;br /&gt;    Orwell's Ministry of Truth warned us, "Who&lt;br /&gt;      controls the past, controls the future."&lt;br /&gt;        The American people have yet to see the&lt;br /&gt; Zapruder film.  Why?  The American people&lt;br /&gt;       have yet to see the real photographs and&lt;br /&gt;        X - rays of the autopsy.  Why?  There are&lt;br /&gt;       hundreds of documents that could help&lt;br /&gt;   prove this conspiracy.  Why have they been&lt;br /&gt;      withheld or burned by the Government?  Each&lt;br /&gt;     time my office or you the people have asked&lt;br /&gt;     those questions, demanded crucial evidence,&lt;br /&gt;     the answer from on high has been "national&lt;br /&gt;      security."  What kind of "national security"&lt;br /&gt;    do we have when we have been robbed of our&lt;br /&gt;      leaders?  Who determines our "national&lt;br /&gt;  security"?  What "national security" permits&lt;br /&gt;    the removal of fundamental power from the&lt;br /&gt;       hands of the American people and validates&lt;br /&gt;      the ascendancy of invisible government in&lt;br /&gt;       the United States?  That kind of "national&lt;br /&gt;      security," gentlemen of the jury, is when&lt;br /&gt;       it smells like it, feels like it, and looks&lt;br /&gt;     like it, you call it what it is - it's&lt;br /&gt;  Fascism!  I submit to you that what took&lt;br /&gt;        place on November 22, 1963 was a coup d'etat.&lt;br /&gt;   Its most direct and tragic result was a&lt;br /&gt; reversal of President Kennedy's commitment&lt;br /&gt;      to withdraw from Vietnam.  War is the&lt;br /&gt;   biggest business in America worth $80 billion&lt;br /&gt;   a year.  The President was murdered by a&lt;br /&gt;        conspiracy planned in advance at the highest&lt;br /&gt;    levels of the United States government and&lt;br /&gt;      carried out by fanatical and disciplined&lt;br /&gt;        Cold Warriors in the Pentagon and CIA's&lt;br /&gt; covert operations apparatus - among them&lt;br /&gt;        Clay Shaw here before you.  It was a public&lt;br /&gt;     execution and it was covered up by like -&lt;br /&gt;       minded individuals in the Dallas Police&lt;br /&gt; Department, the Secret Service, the FBI,&lt;br /&gt;        and the White House - all the way up to and&lt;br /&gt;     including J. Edgar Hoover and Lyndon&lt;br /&gt;    Johnson, whom I consider accomplices after&lt;br /&gt;      the fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The camera holds on onlookers shuffling and murmuring.  Clay Shaw&lt;br /&gt;smirks, smoking his cigarette.  The very grandiosity of the charge works&lt;br /&gt;in his favor.  Jim is falling apart from built - up strain and fatigue.&lt;br /&gt;He looks over at Liz, gathering his spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    There is a very simple way to determine if I&lt;br /&gt;    am being paranoid here.&lt;br /&gt;         (laughter)&lt;br /&gt;      Let's ask the two men who have profited the&lt;br /&gt;     most from the assassination - your former&lt;br /&gt;       President Lyndon Baines Johnson and your&lt;br /&gt;        new President, Richard Nixon - to release&lt;br /&gt;       51 CIA documents pertaining to Lee Oswald&lt;br /&gt;       and Jack Ruby, or the secret CIA memo on&lt;br /&gt;        Oswald's activities in Russia that was&lt;br /&gt;  "destroyed" while being photocopied.&lt;br /&gt;    All these documents are yours - the people's&lt;br /&gt;    property - you pay for it, but because the&lt;br /&gt;      government considers you children who might&lt;br /&gt;     be too disturbed to face this reality,&lt;br /&gt;  because you might lynch those involved, you&lt;br /&gt;     cannot see these documents for another 75&lt;br /&gt;       years.  I'm in my 40's, so I'll have shuffled&lt;br /&gt;   off this mortal coil by then, but I'm already&lt;br /&gt;   telling my 8 year - old son to keep himself&lt;br /&gt;     physically fit so that one glorious September&lt;br /&gt;   morning in 2038 he can walk into the&lt;br /&gt;    National Archives and find out what the CIA&lt;br /&gt;     and the FBI knew.  They may even push it&lt;br /&gt;        back then.  It may become a generational&lt;br /&gt;        affair, with questions passed down from&lt;br /&gt; father to son, mother to daughter, in the&lt;br /&gt;       manner of the ancient runic bards.  Someday&lt;br /&gt;     somewhere, someone might find out the&lt;br /&gt;   damned Truth.  Or we might just build&lt;br /&gt;   ourselves a new Government like the&lt;br /&gt;     Declaration of Independence says we should&lt;br /&gt;      do when the old one ain't working - maybe&lt;br /&gt;       a little farther out West.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He approaches the jury.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               JIM&lt;br /&gt;     An American naturalist wrote, "a patriot&lt;br /&gt;        must always be ready to defend his&lt;br /&gt;      country against its government."  Well,&lt;br /&gt; I'd hate to be in your shoes today.  You&lt;br /&gt;        have a lot to think about.  Going back to&lt;br /&gt;       when we were children, I think most of&lt;br /&gt;  us in this courtroom thought that justice&lt;br /&gt;       came into being automatically, that virtue&lt;br /&gt;      was its own reward, that good would triumph&lt;br /&gt;     over evil.  But as we get older we know&lt;br /&gt; that this just isn't true.  "The frontier&lt;br /&gt;       is where a man faces a fact."  Individual&lt;br /&gt;       human beings have to create justice and this&lt;br /&gt;    is not easy because truth often presents a&lt;br /&gt;      threat to power and we have to fight power&lt;br /&gt;      often at great risk to ourselves.  People&lt;br /&gt;       like Julia Ann Mercer, S.M. Holland, Lee&lt;br /&gt;        Bowers, Jean Hill, and Willie O'Keefe have&lt;br /&gt;      come forward and taken that risk.&lt;br /&gt;               (he produces a stack of letters)&lt;br /&gt;        I have here some $8000 in these letters&lt;br /&gt; sent to my office from all over the&lt;br /&gt;     country - quarters, dimes, dollar bills&lt;br /&gt; from housewives, plumbers, car salesmen,&lt;br /&gt;        teachers, invalids ... These are the people&lt;br /&gt;     who cannot afford to send money but do,&lt;br /&gt; these are the ones who drive the cabs, who&lt;br /&gt;      nurse in the hospitals, who see their kids&lt;br /&gt;      go to Vietnam.  Why?  Because they care,&lt;br /&gt;        because they want to know the truth -&lt;br /&gt;   because they want their country back,&lt;br /&gt;   because it belongs to us the people as long&lt;br /&gt;     as the people got the guts to fight for&lt;br /&gt; what they believe in!  The truth is the most&lt;br /&gt;    important value we have because if the&lt;br /&gt;  truth does not endure, if the Government&lt;br /&gt;        murders truth, if you cannot respect the&lt;br /&gt;        hearts of these people ...&lt;br /&gt;              (shaking the letters)&lt;br /&gt;   ... then this is no longer the country in&lt;br /&gt;       which we were born in and this is not the&lt;br /&gt;       country I want to die in ...  And this was&lt;br /&gt;      never more true than for John F. Kennedy&lt;br /&gt;        whose murder was probably the most terrible&lt;br /&gt;     moment in the history of our country.  You&lt;br /&gt;      the people, you the jury system, in sitting&lt;br /&gt;     in judgement on Clay Shaw, represent the&lt;br /&gt;        hope of humanity against Government power.&lt;br /&gt;      In discharging your duty, in bringing the&lt;br /&gt;       first conviction in this house of cards&lt;br /&gt; against Clay Shaw, "Ask not what your&lt;br /&gt;   country can do for you, but what you can&lt;br /&gt;        do for your country."  Do not forget your&lt;br /&gt;       young President who forfeited his life.&lt;br /&gt; Show the world this is still a government&lt;br /&gt;       of the people, for the people, and by the&lt;br /&gt;       people.  Nothing as long as you live will&lt;br /&gt;       ever be more important.&lt;br /&gt;         (he stares into the camera)&lt;br /&gt;     It's up to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He returns to the table and sits.  The courtroom is still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: later in the same courtroom.  The jury files in, having reached&lt;br /&gt;a verdict.  Jim, prepared, sits with his staff and Liz.  The jury&lt;br /&gt;foreman enters the courtroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          JURY FOREMAN&lt;br /&gt;    We find Clay Shaw ... not guilty on all&lt;br /&gt; counts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's jubilation and commotion in the Court.  Shaw stands, happily&lt;br /&gt;shaking hands all over ... Members of the press run for the phones.  In&lt;br /&gt;the corridor outside the courtroom, the press interviews the jury foreman.&lt;br /&gt;THE JURY BELIEVED THERE WAS A CONSPIRACY,  THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE FIRST PART OF THE TRIAL.  &lt;br /&gt;WHETHER CLAY SHAW WAS PART OF IT WAS BARELY TOUCHED ON IN THE TRIAL. IN OTHER WORDS, THE TARGET OR CHARGES IN THE TRIAL WERE POORLY CONSTRUCTED.  I'M SURE GARRISON KNEW THIS BUT WAS HELPLESS.  THIS WAS THE BEST HE COULD GET.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                FOREMAN&lt;br /&gt; We believe there was a conspiracy, but&lt;br /&gt;  whether Clay Shaw was a part of it is&lt;br /&gt;   another kettle of fish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The camera moves to Jim, who walks out past the banks of reporters.  TV&lt;br /&gt;lights are in his face.  Liz is by his side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              ENGLISH REPORTER&lt;br /&gt;        Mr. Garrison, the American media is&lt;br /&gt;     reporting this as a full vindication&lt;br /&gt;    of the Warren Commission, do you ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            JIM&lt;br /&gt;     I think all it proves is you cannot run a&lt;br /&gt;       trial even questioning the intelligence&lt;br /&gt; operations of the government in the light&lt;br /&gt;       of day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         NEWSMAN 13&lt;br /&gt;      We understand that The Times - Picayune&lt;br /&gt; will call for your resignation - unfit&lt;br /&gt;  to hold office.  You've ruined Clay Shaw's&lt;br /&gt;      reputation - are you going to resign?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           JIM&lt;br /&gt;     Hell, no.  I'm gonna run again.  And I'm&lt;br /&gt;        gonna win.  Thank you very much.  If it&lt;br /&gt; takes me 30 years to nail every one of&lt;br /&gt;  the assassins, then I will continue this&lt;br /&gt;        investigation for 30 years.  I owe that&lt;br /&gt; not only to Jack Kennedy, but to my&lt;br /&gt;     country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He and Liz squeeze hands as they walk on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DISSOLVE TO WASHINGTON, D.C. - (1970)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jim waits on the same park bench as earlier in the film, overlooking the&lt;br /&gt;Mall or the Lincoln Monument ... as X walks up, a little grayer, a&lt;br /&gt;little more stooped, wearing ill fitting civilian clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;     Well, thanks for coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                X&lt;br /&gt;       You didn't get that break you needed, but&lt;br /&gt;       you went as far as any man could, bubba.&lt;br /&gt;                (he sits next to Jim)&lt;br /&gt;   What can I do for you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          JIM&lt;br /&gt;     Just speculating, I guess.  How do you&lt;br /&gt;  think it started?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               X&lt;br /&gt;       I think it started in the wind.  Money -&lt;br /&gt;        arms, big oil, Pentagon people, contractors,&lt;br /&gt;    bankers, politicians like L.B.J. were&lt;br /&gt;   committed to a war in Southeast Asia.  As&lt;br /&gt;       early as '61 they knew Kennedy was going&lt;br /&gt;        to change things ... He was not going to&lt;br /&gt;        war in Southeast Asia.  Who knows?&lt;br /&gt;      Probably some boardroom or lunchroom&lt;br /&gt;    somewhere - Houston, New York - hell,&lt;br /&gt;   maybe Bonn, Germany ... who knows, it's&lt;br /&gt; international now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: a New York lunch club or executive dining room.  From the window&lt;br /&gt;we have a towering view of the City.  Four men in their 50's to 70's -&lt;br /&gt;old men, rich men, talk at a quiet table.  Their figures are shadowy and&lt;br /&gt;we overhear their conversation obliquely, across faces flared out by sun&lt;br /&gt;bouncing off the skyscraper window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             X&lt;br /&gt;               (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    One worried sonofabitch with a few million&lt;br /&gt;      dollars turns to the others ... with a few&lt;br /&gt;      million dollars ... and says something&lt;br /&gt;  pretty direct like ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          RICH MAN 1&lt;br /&gt;      The sonofabitch is gonna get re-elected by&lt;br /&gt;      a bigger vote than ever in '64.  It's gonna&lt;br /&gt;     be worse than Roosevelt.  The country won't&lt;br /&gt;     survive as we know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          RICH MAN 2&lt;br /&gt;      I agree, Bob, it can't go on.&lt;br /&gt;           (he looks to Man 3)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             RICH MAN 3&lt;br /&gt;      ... and Bobby in '68?  Something's got to&lt;br /&gt;       be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks pass among them.  There's a pause, and then ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           RICH MAN 1&lt;br /&gt;      He's gotta go, Lou.  The election's gotta&lt;br /&gt;       be stopped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a breathless moment with the thought in the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            RICH MAN 1&lt;br /&gt;      I talk to a lot of people.  I know I'm&lt;br /&gt;  not the only one thinking this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         RICH MAN 2&lt;br /&gt;      What's the feeling in Washington, Jack?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLASHBACK TO: the Pentagon in 1962.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              X&lt;br /&gt;               (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    ... so calls are made.  Down to Washington.&lt;br /&gt;     All over the world.  They start talking&lt;br /&gt; about it.  A few people here, there.  Just&lt;br /&gt;      conversations, nothing more ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We see a general meeting with another general.  They talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               X&lt;br /&gt;               (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Generals, Admirals, CIA people, and probably&lt;br /&gt;    some people on the inside of Kennedy's staff&lt;br /&gt;    - young, brilliant Judases, ready to go to&lt;br /&gt;      war in Southeast Asia ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLASHBACK TO: the White House, 1962.  A general talks to one of&lt;br /&gt;Kennedy's staff - a bespectacled, bright young Harvard type.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            X&lt;br /&gt;               (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    ... and maybe a Vice - President getting&lt;br /&gt;        separate memos from Vietnam, eager to get&lt;br /&gt;       his backers the billions of dollars in&lt;br /&gt;  contracts for Southeast Asia ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a White House office, Lyndon Johnson meets with a cabinet member, a&lt;br /&gt;contractor, and two military men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         X&lt;br /&gt;               (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Kennedy, like Caesar, is surrounded with&lt;br /&gt;        enemies.  Something is underway but it&lt;br /&gt;  has no face.  Yet everyone in the loop&lt;br /&gt;  knows ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The camera shows Washington, D.C. buildings from strange angles.  The&lt;br /&gt;feeling is still, weird, angled, alien.  The buildings are twisted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               X&lt;br /&gt;               (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Money is at stake.  Big money.  A hundred&lt;br /&gt;       billion.  The Kennedy brothers target voting&lt;br /&gt;    districts for defense dollars.  They give&lt;br /&gt;       TFX fighter contracts only to the counties&lt;br /&gt;      that are going to make a difference in '64.&lt;br /&gt;     These people fight back.  Their way.  One&lt;br /&gt;       day another call is made ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a Pentagon office, a man in civilian clothing is on the phone, his&lt;br /&gt;back to the screen.  This is Mr. Y, X's superior officer.  Shadows&lt;br /&gt;pervade the room.  An unshuttered window overlooks the Potomac River and&lt;br /&gt;the White House.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             X&lt;br /&gt;               (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    ... maybe to somebody like my superior&lt;br /&gt;  who's been running the "Mongoose" program&lt;br /&gt;       out of Florida and who has no love for&lt;br /&gt;  Kennedy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                VOICE ON PHONE&lt;br /&gt;  Bill, we're going.  We need your help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          X&lt;br /&gt;               (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    Everything's cellurized.  No one has said&lt;br /&gt;       "he must die," there's been no vote, there's&lt;br /&gt;    nothing on paper, there's no one to blame.&lt;br /&gt;      It's as old as the Crucifixion: the Mafia&lt;br /&gt;       firing squad, one blank, no one's guilty&lt;br /&gt;        because everyone in the Power Structure who&lt;br /&gt;     knows anything has a plausible deniability.&lt;br /&gt;     There are no compromising connections except&lt;br /&gt;    at the most secret point.  But what's&lt;br /&gt;   paramount is that it must succeed.  No matter&lt;br /&gt;   how many die, how much it costs, the&lt;br /&gt;    perpetrators must be on the winning side and&lt;br /&gt;    never subject to prosecution for anything&lt;br /&gt;       by anyone.  That is a coup d'etat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              Y&lt;br /&gt;               (into phone)&lt;br /&gt;    When?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           VOICE ON PHONE&lt;br /&gt;  In the fall.  Probably in the south.  We&lt;br /&gt;        want you to come up with a plan ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             X&lt;br /&gt;               (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    He's done it before.  Other countries.&lt;br /&gt;  Lumumba in the Congo, Trujillo, the&lt;br /&gt;     Dominican Republic, he's working on Castro.&lt;br /&gt;     No big deal.  In September, Kennedy&lt;br /&gt;     announces the Texas trip.  At that moment,&lt;br /&gt;      second Oswalds start popping up all over&lt;br /&gt;        Dallas where they have the mayor and the&lt;br /&gt;        cops in their pocket.  Y flies in the&lt;br /&gt;   assassins, maybe from the special camp&lt;br /&gt;  we keep outside Athens, Greece - pros,&lt;br /&gt;  maybe some locals, Cubans, Maria hire,&lt;br /&gt;  separate teams.  Does it really matter&lt;br /&gt;  who shot from what rooftop?  Part of&lt;br /&gt;    the scenery.  The assassins by now are&lt;br /&gt;  dead or well paid and long gone ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             JIM&lt;br /&gt;     Any chance of one of them confessing&lt;br /&gt;    someday?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                X&lt;br /&gt;       ... don't think so.  When they start to drool,&lt;br /&gt;  they get rid of 'em.  These guys are proud&lt;br /&gt;      of what they did.  They did Dealey Plaza!&lt;br /&gt;       They took out the President of the United&lt;br /&gt;       States!  That's entertainment!  And they&lt;br /&gt;        served their country doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          JIM&lt;br /&gt;             (in present)&lt;br /&gt;    ... and your General?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           X&lt;br /&gt;       ... got promoted to two stars, but he was&lt;br /&gt;       never military, you know, always CIA.&lt;br /&gt;   Went to Vietnam, lost his credibility when&lt;br /&gt;      we got beat over there, retired, lives&lt;br /&gt;  in Virginia.  I say hello to him when I see&lt;br /&gt;     him at the supermarket ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;     Ever ask him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           X&lt;br /&gt;       You never ask a spook a question.  No point.&lt;br /&gt;    He'll never give you a straight answer.&lt;br /&gt; General Y still thinks of himself of the&lt;br /&gt;        handsome young warrior who loved this&lt;br /&gt;   country but loved the concept of war more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;     His name?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               X&lt;br /&gt;       Does it matter?  Another technician.  But&lt;br /&gt;       an interesting thing - he was there that day&lt;br /&gt;    in Dealey Plaza.  You know how I know?&lt;br /&gt;          (Jim shakes his head)&lt;br /&gt;   That picture of yours.  The hoboes ...&lt;br /&gt;  you never looked deep enough ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLASHBACK TO: one of the hobo pictures.  Next to the freight entrance of&lt;br /&gt;the Book Depository, Y, in a dark suit, is nonchalantly walking past the&lt;br /&gt;hoboes, his back to us.  The camera closes in on Y.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             X&lt;br /&gt;               (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    I knew the man 20 years.  That's him.  The&lt;br /&gt;      way he walked ... arms at his side, military,&lt;br /&gt;   the stoop, the haircut, the twisted left&lt;br /&gt;        hand, the large class ring.  What was he&lt;br /&gt;        doing there?  If anyone had asked him, he'd&lt;br /&gt;     probably say "protection" but I'll tell&lt;br /&gt; you I think he was giving some kind of&lt;br /&gt;  "okay" signal to those hoboes - they're&lt;br /&gt; about to get booked and he's telling 'em&lt;br /&gt;        it's gonna be okay, they're covered.  And&lt;br /&gt;       in fact they were - you never heard of them&lt;br /&gt;     again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          JIM&lt;br /&gt;     ... some story ... the whole thing.  It's&lt;br /&gt;       like it never happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         X&lt;br /&gt;       It never did.&lt;br /&gt;           (he smiles tartly)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              JIM&lt;br /&gt;     Just think ... just think.  What happened&lt;br /&gt;       to our country ... to the world ...&lt;br /&gt;     because of that murder ... Vietnam, racial&lt;br /&gt;      conflict, breakdown of law, drugs, thought&lt;br /&gt;      control, guilt, assassinations, secret&lt;br /&gt;  government fear of the frontier ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             X&lt;br /&gt;       I keep thinking of that day, Tuesday the&lt;br /&gt;        26th, the day after they buried Kennedy,&lt;br /&gt;        L.B.J. was signing the memorandum on&lt;br /&gt;    Vietnam with Ambassador Lodge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLASHBACK TO: the White House, 1963.  Johnson sits across the shadowed&lt;br /&gt;room with Lodge and others.  His Texas drawl rises and falls.  He signs&lt;br /&gt;something unseen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            JOHNSON&lt;br /&gt; Gentlemen, I want you to know I'm not going&lt;br /&gt;     to let Vietnam go the way China did.  I'm&lt;br /&gt;       personally committed.  I'm not going to&lt;br /&gt; take one soldier out of there 'til they&lt;br /&gt; know we mean business in Asia ...&lt;br /&gt;               (he pauses)&lt;br /&gt;     You just get me elected, and I'll give&lt;br /&gt;  you your damned war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            X&lt;br /&gt;               (VO)&lt;br /&gt;    ... and that was the day Vietnam started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO: Documentary footage of - U.S. Marines arriving in full force on&lt;br /&gt;the beaches of Danang, March 8, 1965 ... as another era begins and our&lt;br /&gt;movie ends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a black screen we read:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** In 1975, VICTOR MARCHETTI, former executive assistant to the CIA's&lt;br /&gt;deputy director, stated that during high - level CIA meetings during&lt;br /&gt;Shaw's trial in 1969, CIA director RICHARD HELMS disclosed that CLAY&lt;br /&gt;SHAW and DAVID FERRIE had worked for the Agency, and asked his&lt;br /&gt;assistants to make sure Mr. Shaw received Agency help at his trial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** In 1979, RICHARD HELMS, director of covert operations in 1963,&lt;br /&gt;admitted under oath that CLAY SHAW had Agency connections.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** It is now known that in 1963, U.S. military intelligence controlled&lt;br /&gt;more agents than the CIA and had almost as much money to spend.  It&lt;br /&gt;surfaced in the 1970's that the Army had long been conducting&lt;br /&gt;surveillance and keeping files on thousands of private citizens in the&lt;br /&gt;name of national security.  The prime targets were dissident - left -&lt;br /&gt;wingers of the kind Oswald appeared to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** CLAY SHAW died in 1974 of supposed lung cancer.  No autopsy was&lt;br /&gt;allowed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** WILLIAM SULLIVAN, Assistant Director of the FBI, died in the early&lt;br /&gt;morning hours of November 9,177 when he was mistaken for a deer in an&lt;br /&gt;open field in New Hampshire.  Shortly before his death, Sullivan had a&lt;br /&gt;preliminary hearing with the HSCA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** GEORGE DE MOHRENSCHILDT committed suicide just hours after HSCA&lt;br /&gt;investigator Gaeton Fonzi located him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** In November, 1969 JIM GARRISON was re - elected to a third term as&lt;br /&gt;District Attorney of Orleans Parish.  In June of 1971, he was arrested&lt;br /&gt;by Federal Agents on charges of allowing payoffs on pinball gambling by&lt;br /&gt;organized crime.  In September of 1973, after defending himself in&lt;br /&gt;Federal Court, he was quickly found not guilty of charges that appear to&lt;br /&gt;have been framed against him.  Less than six weeks later, he was&lt;br /&gt;narrowly defeated for a fourth term as District Attorney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** In 1978, Garrison was elected Judge of the Louisiana State Court of&lt;br /&gt;Appeal in New Orleans.  He was re - elected in 1988.  To this date, he&lt;br /&gt;has brought the only public prosecution in the Kennedy killing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** ELIZABETH and Jim were divorced in 1978.  He now lives in the same&lt;br /&gt;house he lived in with Elizabeth.  She lives a block away.  Their five&lt;br /&gt;children are grown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** SOUTHEAST ASIA: 58,000 American lives, 2 million Asian lives, $220&lt;br /&gt;billion spent, 10 million Americans air - lifted there by commercial&lt;br /&gt;aircraft, more than 5,000 helicopters lost, 6.5 million tons of bombs&lt;br /&gt;dropped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** A Congressional Investigation from 1976 - 1979 found a "probable&lt;br /&gt;conspiracy" in the assassination of John F. Kennedy and recommended the&lt;br /&gt;Justice Department investigate further.  As of 1991, the Justice&lt;br /&gt;Department has done nothing.  The files of the House Select Committee on&lt;br /&gt;Assassinations are locked away until the year 2029.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The camera moves onto the mottoes chiselled in the walls of the National&lt;br /&gt;Archives in Washington, D.C.:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"STUDY THE PAST"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"PAST IS PROLOGUE"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;oo&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1747856680513245327-1424360711499652162?l=drudge22.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/feeds/1424360711499652162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2009/06/jfk-script.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/1424360711499652162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/1424360711499652162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2009/06/jfk-script.html' title='JFK SCRIPT'/><author><name>ziferstein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09449968180157770041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se1oU-hc4RI/AAAAAAAAEeQ/ilzdaBkvTtc/s72-c/magic-bullet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747856680513245327.post-4628885436614516216</id><published>2009-06-12T19:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T19:40:26.117-07:00</updated><title type='text'>QUOTATIONS</title><content type='html'>Greed is good. Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit.&lt;br /&gt;---OLIVER STONE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I'm happy. That shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone. &lt;br /&gt;---Bob Dylan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has served us well, this myth of Christ&lt;br /&gt;---Pope Leo x (Giovanni de' Medici)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surely you can't be serious. &lt;br /&gt;I am serious... and don't call me Shirley&lt;br /&gt;---AIRPLANE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must pause for one fast second and say a fast word about oral contraception. I was involved in an extremely good example of oral contraception two weeks ago. I asked a girl to go to bed with me, and she said "No". &lt;br /&gt;---Woody Allen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nearly every man who develops an idea works it up to the point where it looks impossible, and then he gets discouraged. That's not the place to become discouraged. But keep your day job. &lt;br /&gt;---Thomas A. Edison &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If an unfriendly power had attempted to impose on America the mediocre educational performance that exists today, we might well have viewed it as an act of war.&lt;br /&gt;— "A Nation at Risk" (1983) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never marry a man who has no friends. I am always amazed at the number of men I have counseled who have no friends.&lt;br /&gt;---Father Pat Connor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the second year of the great civil war, when the Irish brigades marched through the streets, New york was a city full of tribes. War chiefs, rich and poor. It wasn't a city really, It was more a furnace where cities someday might be forged. &lt;br /&gt;---GANGS OF NEW YORK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For conservatives, seeing is believing; for liberals, believing is seeing. &lt;br /&gt;---George F. Will&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crack that whip&lt;br /&gt;Give the past the slip&lt;br /&gt;-DEVO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see and you know&lt;br /&gt;---Jack Benny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit. Greed, in all its forms; greed for life, for money, for love, for knowledge, has marked the upward surge of mankind. Greed, for lack of a better word, is good. Greed is right, greed works. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greed, for lack of a better word, is good. Greed is right, greed works. Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit. Greed, in all its forms; greed for life, for money, for love, for knowledge, has marked the upward surge of mankind.&lt;br /&gt;---WALLSTREET&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; And greed, you mark my words, will not only save Teldar Paper, but that other malfunctioning corporation called the USA. &lt;br /&gt;From the Oliver Stone film Wall Street 1980&lt;br /&gt;Read by Michael Douglas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. You not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief. &lt;br /&gt;---C. S. Lewis Grief &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;San Francisco in 1966 was what the whole young and popular world would be doing Saturday nights if the Nazis had won the war. It was the Sixth Reich.&lt;br /&gt;---FEAR AND LOATHING IN LAS VEGAS &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shake off all the fears of servile prejudices, under which weak minds are servilely crouched. Fix reason firmly in her seat, and call on her tribunal for every fact, every opinion. Question with boldness even the existence of a God; because, if there be one, he must more approve of the homage of reason than that of blindfolded fear. &lt;br /&gt;---Thomas Jefferson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... These guys are proud of what they did. They did Dealey Plaza! They took out the President of the United States! That's entertainment! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FERRIE Oh man, why don't you stop. This is too fuckin' big for you! Who did Kennedy? It's a mystery wrapped in a riddle inside an enigma. Even the shooters don't fuckin' know! Don't you get it yet? I can't be talking like this. They're gonna kill me. I'm gonna die! (he sits down, cracking, sobbing) I don't know what happened. All I wanted in the world was to be a Catholic priest - live in a monastery, study ancient Latin manuscripts, pray, serve God. But I had this one terrible, fatal weakness. They defrocked me. And then I started to lose everything. &lt;br /&gt;---JFK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JIM GARRISON ... some story ... the whole thing. It's like it never happened.&lt;br /&gt;DONALD SOUTHERN It never did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---JFK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kilgore (Robert Duval) stands there, hands on hips, looking at the burning jungle in the distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; KILGORE&lt;br /&gt; You smell that? Do you smell that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; LANCE&lt;br /&gt; What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; KILGORE&lt;br /&gt; (pointing to trees)&lt;br /&gt; Napalm, son. Nothing else in the &lt;br /&gt; world smells like that.&lt;br /&gt; (crouches down)&lt;br /&gt; I love the smell of napalm in the &lt;br /&gt; morning. You know, one time we &lt;br /&gt; had a hill bombed for twelve &lt;br /&gt; hours...and when it was all over, &lt;br /&gt; I walked up. We didn't find one &lt;br /&gt; of them, not one stinking dink &lt;br /&gt; body. The smell, you know that &lt;br /&gt; gasoline smell? The whole hill-&lt;br /&gt; smelled like-victory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; He looks of nostalgically. A shell comes in and HITS in the background. Willard and the soldiers react; Kilgore ignores it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; KILGORE&lt;br /&gt; Someday this war's gonna end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---APOCALYPSE NOW&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  It is a matter of life and death, a road either&lt;br /&gt; to safety or to ruin. Hence it is a subject of inquiry&lt;br /&gt; which can on no account be neglected.&lt;br /&gt;---SUN TZU, ON THE ART OF WAR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This strange disease of modern life, with its sick hurry, its divided aims. &lt;br /&gt;---Matthew Arnold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For at least another hundred years we must pretend to ourselves and to every one that fair is foul and foul is fair; for foul is useful and fair is not. Avarice and usury and precaution must be our gods for a little longer still. &lt;br /&gt;---John Maynard Keynes &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man may be a fool and not know it, but not if he is married. &lt;br /&gt;---H. L. Mencken &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; EISENHOWER&lt;br /&gt; The conjunction of an immense military&lt;br /&gt; establishment and a large arms industry is new&lt;br /&gt; in the American experience. The total influence&lt;br /&gt; - economic, political, even spiritual - is felt&lt;br /&gt; in every city, every statehouse, every office of&lt;br /&gt; the Federal Government ... In the councils of&lt;br /&gt; government we must guard against the acquisition&lt;br /&gt; of unwarranted influence, whether sought or&lt;br /&gt; unsought, by the military industrial complex.&lt;br /&gt; The potential for the disastrous rise of&lt;br /&gt; misplaced power exists and will persist ... We&lt;br /&gt; must never let the weight of this combination&lt;br /&gt; endanger our liberties or democratic processes.&lt;br /&gt; We should take nothing for granted ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;oo&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1747856680513245327-4628885436614516216?l=drudge22.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/feeds/4628885436614516216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2009/06/quotations.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/4628885436614516216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/4628885436614516216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2009/06/quotations.html' title='QUOTATIONS'/><author><name>ziferstein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09449968180157770041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747856680513245327.post-2341048336173653775</id><published>2009-06-12T19:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T19:39:28.611-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SIDEWALK ART</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/ShWjYlo9tbI/AAAAAAAAFAQ/xxIzFIMnUXk/s1600-h/amazing-sidewalk-chalk-art%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 375px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/ShWjYlo9tbI/AAAAAAAAFAQ/xxIzFIMnUXk/s400/amazing-sidewalk-chalk-art%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338352576133707186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/ShWjYc2NyrI/AAAAAAAAFAI/BK2TM62K01o/s1600-h/10%2520%2520J%2520Beever%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/ShWjYc2NyrI/AAAAAAAAFAI/BK2TM62K01o/s400/10%2520%2520J%2520Beever%5B1%5D.jpg" borde&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;oo&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1747856680513245327-2341048336173653775?l=drudge22.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/feeds/2341048336173653775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2009/06/sidewalk-art_12.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/2341048336173653775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/2341048336173653775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2009/06/sidewalk-art_12.html' title='SIDEWALK ART'/><author><name>ziferstein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09449968180157770041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/ShWjYlo9tbI/AAAAAAAAFAQ/xxIzFIMnUXk/s72-c/amazing-sidewalk-chalk-art%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747856680513245327.post-7681188643166417536</id><published>2009-06-12T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T19:38:11.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TINTYPES</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se1fji-hbII/AAAAAAAAEdI/bj8HVkw5pyY/s1600-h/332px-John_Wilkes_Booth_wanted_poster_new.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 222px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Se1fji-hbII/AAAAAAAAEdI/bj8HVkw5pyY/s400/332px-John_Wilkes_Booth_wanted_poster_new.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327018998538267778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SeRoJQhpTeI/AAAAAAAADlw/UTBnn16InH4/s1600-h/cid_1138861889_020065v+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 363px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SeRoJQhpTeI/AAAAAAAADlw/UTBnn16InH4/s400/cid_1138861889_020065v+copy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324495167722966498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SeRQri6yuHI/AAAAAAAADjQ/5rH_JTAJaLQ/s1600-h/1988015921.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SeRQri6yuHI/AAAAAAAADjQ/5rH_JTAJaLQ/s400/1988015921.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324469368496765042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SeRQreoi48I/AAAAAAAADjI/41z-lAHGb8E/s1600-h/trains_griffith1_july41889_santafe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SeRQreoi48I/AAAAAAAADjI/41z-lAHGb8E/s400/trains_griffith1_july41889_santafe.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324469367346488258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SeKzRCh98XI/AAAAAAAADh4/u5rkuHaK7nw/s1600-h/10d00c60.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; 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With Charles Gibson, the schoolmaster who crushed  Sarah Palin.  &lt;br /&gt; His answer to the big question.  Republican responsibility for the Economy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  ,,,a lot of the decisions that were made on Wall Street took place over a decade or so &lt;br /&gt;  before I arrived in President.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; He wanted to use  in, not as.   And he wanted President  not the presidency.    &lt;br /&gt;  IT'S A REGAL PHRASE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IT GOT WORSE. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"DURING I ARRIVED IN PRESIDENT"    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CERTAINLY OUR MOST TONGUE TIED PRESIDENT&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;oo&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1747856680513245327-1500479054725246858?l=drudge22.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/feeds/1500479054725246858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2009/06/in-president-08.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/1500479054725246858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/1500479054725246858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2009/06/in-president-08.html' title='IN PRESIDENT 08'/><author><name>ziferstein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09449968180157770041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747856680513245327.post-5558654355282765654</id><published>2009-06-12T19:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T19:31:46.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ESCHER</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sea5I35PBrI/AAAAAAAAD90/Zml3yO09j4g/s1600-h/escher_day_night.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 232px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sea5I35PBrI/AAAAAAAAD90/Zml3yO09j4g/s400/escher_day_night.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325147171506292402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sea5Izw9ebI/AAAAAAAAD9s/JyyUGbkvfn0/s1600-h/escher_relativity.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 381px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sea5Izw9ebI/AAAAAAAAD9s/JyyUGbkvfn0/s400/escher_relativity.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325147170397845938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SeGPJPFbfQI/AAAAAAAADQI/Hmjmc4fVwIU/s1600-h/1938-swallows%2Bdragonflies%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 380px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SeGPJPFbfQI/AAAAAAAADQI/Hmjmc4fVwIU/s400/1938-swallows%2Bdragonflies%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323693623359536386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sd5tVtLnO_I/AAAAAAAACws/MbLV1LeytZE/s1600-h/E21%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 306px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sd5tVtLnO_I/AAAAAAAACws/MbLV1LeytZE/s400/E21%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322812029271489522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sd5tVuEQN8I/AAAAAAAACwk/gmOC9W9qohM/s1600-h/LW394%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 342px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sd5tVuEQN8I/AAAAAAAACwk/gmOC9W9qohM/s400/LW394%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322812029509056450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sd5tVacdTHI/AAAAAAAACwc/S_KWW65bcWs/s1600-h/Copy+of+escher%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; 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margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 228px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sdaam5DeqGI/AAAAAAAAB2E/Ihs5Crl1tFQ/s400/1938-cycle%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320610002725939298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sdaamtp6h1I/AAAAAAAAB18/nJjdNachRIo/s1600-h/57GalleryImage04%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sdaamtp6h1I/AAAAAAAAB18/nJjdNachRIo/s400/57GalleryImage04%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320609999665923922" /&gt;&lt;/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;oo&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1747856680513245327-5558654355282765654?l=drudge22.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/feeds/5558654355282765654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2009/06/escher.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/5558654355282765654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/5558654355282765654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2009/06/escher.html' title='ESCHER'/><author><name>ziferstein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09449968180157770041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sea5I35PBrI/AAAAAAAAD90/Zml3yO09j4g/s72-c/escher_day_night.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747856680513245327.post-4361041082068066801</id><published>2009-06-12T19:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T19:28:29.067-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BUSHISMS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SdfIOGbwCVI/AAAAAAAACI0/IOEtdnXvw4Y/s1600-h/40469086.pioneer_cowboy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SdfIOGbwCVI/AAAAAAAACI0/IOEtdnXvw4Y/s400/40469086.pioneer_cowboy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320941629332261202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUSHISMS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SdfIOGbwCVI/AAAAAAAACI0/IOEtdnXvw4Y/s1600-h/40469086.pioneer_cowboy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SdfIOGbwCVI/AAAAAAAACI0/IOEtdnXvw4Y/s400/40469086.pioneer_cowboy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320941629332261202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUSHISMS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The illiteracy level of our children are appalling."—Washington, D.C., Jan. 23, 2004 (Thanks to Lewell Gunter.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"[B]y the way, we rank 10th amongst the industrialized world in broadband technology and its availability. That's not good enough for America. Tenth is 10 spots too low as far as I'm concerned."—Minneapolis, Minn., April 26, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My job is to, like, think beyond the immediate."—Washington, D.C., April 21, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is historic times."—New York, N.Y., April 20, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Obviously, I pray every day there's less casualty."—Fort Hood, Texas, April 11, 2004 (Thanks to Pat Gallagher.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Recession means that people's incomes, at the employer level, are going down, basically, relative to costs, people are getting laid off."—Washington, D.C., Feb. 19, 2004 (Thanks to Garry Trudeau.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God loves you, and I love you. And you can count on both of us as a powerful message that people who wonder about their future can hear."—Los Angeles, Calif., March 3, 2004 (Thanks to Tanny Bear.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The only thing I know about Slovakia is what I learned first-hand from your foreign minister, who came to Texas."—To a Slovak journalist as quoted by Knight Ridder News Service, June 22, 1999. Bush's meeting was with Janez Drnovsek, the prime minister of Slovenia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If the East Timorians decide to revolt, I'm sure I'll have a statement."—Quoted by Maureen Dowd in the New York Times, June 16, 1999&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Keep good relations with the Grecians."—Quoted in the Economist, June 12, 1999&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kosovians can move back in."—CNN Inside Politics, April 9, 1999&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It was just inebriating what Midland was all about then."—From a 1994 interview, as quoted in First Son, by Bill Minutaglio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob Weisberg is editor of Slate and co-author, with Robert E. Rubin, of In an Uncertain World. &lt;br /&gt;Photograph by Rick Wilking/Reuters. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The march to war affected the people's confidence. It's hard to make investment. See, if you're a small business owner or a large business owner and you're thinking about investing, you've got to be optimistic when you invest. Except when you're marching to war, it's not a very optimistic thought, is it? In other words, it's the opposite of optimistic when you're thinking you're going to war." —Springfield, Mo., Feb. 9, 2004 (Thanks to Gary Trudeau.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See, one of the interesting things in the Oval Office—I love to bring people into the Oval Office—right around the corner from here—and say, this is where I office, but I want you to know the office is always bigger than the person."—Washington, D.C., Jan. 29, 2004 (Thanks to Michael Shively.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just remember it's the birds that's supposed to suffer, not the hunter."—Advising quail hunter and New Mexico Sen. Pete Domenici, Roswell, N.M., Jan. 22, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"One of the most meaningful things that's happened to me since I've been the governor—the president—governor—president. Oops. Ex-governor. I went to Bethesda Naval Hospital to give a fellow a Purple Heart, and at the same moment I watched him—get a Purple Heart for action in Iraq—and at that same—right after I gave him the Purple Heart, he was sworn in as a citizen of the United States—a Mexican citizen, now a United States citizen."—Washington, D.C., Jan. 9, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want to thank the astronauts who are with us, the courageous spacial entrepreneurs who set such a wonderful example for the young of our country."—Washington, D.C., Jan. 14, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And if you're interested in the quality of education and you're paying attention to what you hear at Laclede, why don't you volunteer? Why don't you mentor a child how to read?"—St. Louis, Mo., Jan. 5, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So thank you for reminding me about the importance of being a good mom and a great volunteer as well."—St. Louis, Jan. 5, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want to remind you all that in order to fight and win the war, it requires an expenditure of money that is commiserate with keeping a promise to our troops to make sure that they're well-paid, well-trained, well-equipped."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See, without the tax relief package, there would have been a deficit, but there wouldn't have been the commiserate—not 'commiserate'—the kick to our economy that occurred as a result of the tax relief."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"[T]he best way to find these terrorists who hide in holes is to get people coming forth to describe the location of the hole, is to give clues and data."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm so pleased to be able to say hello to Bill Scranton. He's one of the great Pennsylvania political families."—Drexel Hill, Penn., Sept. 15, 2003 (Thanks to Michael Shively.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We had a good Cabinet meeting, talked about a lot of issues. Secretary of State and Defense brought us up to date about our desires to spread freedom and peace around the world."—Washington, D.C., Aug. 1, 2003 (Thanks to Tanny Bear.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Security is the essential roadblock to achieving the road map to peace."—Washington, D.C., July 25, 2003&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Our country puts $1 billion a year up to help feed the hungry. And we're by far the most generous nation in the world when it comes to that, and I'm proud to report that. This isn't a contest of who's the most generous. I'm just telling you as an aside. We're generous. We shouldn't be bragging about it. But we are. We're very generous."—Washington, D.C., July 16, 2003&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's very interesting when you think about it, the slaves who left here to go to America, because of their steadfast and their religion and their belief in freedom, helped change America."—Dakar, Senegal, July 8, 2003 (Thanks to Michael Shively.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My answer is bring them on."—On Iraqi militants attacking U.S. forces, Washington, D.C., July 3, 2003&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We've had a great weekend here in the Land of the Enchanted."—Albuquerque, N.M., May 12, 2003 (New Mexico's state nickname is "Land of Enchantment.")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We've got hundreds of sites to exploit, looking for the chemical and biological weapons that we know Saddam Hussein had prior to our entrance into Iraq."—Santa Clara, Calif., May 2, 2003 (Thanks to Michael Shively.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I think war is a dangerous place."—Washington, D.C., May 7, 2003&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you don't have any ambitions, the minimum-wage job isn't going to get you to where you want to get, for example. In other words, what is your ambitions? And oh, by the way, if that is your ambition, here's what it's going to take to achieve it."—Speech to students in Little Rock, Ark., Aug. 29, 2002 (Thanks to George Dupper.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See, we love—we love freedom. That's what they didn't understand. They hate things; we love things. They act out of hatred; we don't seek revenge, we seek justice out of love."—Oklahoma City, Aug. 29, 2002&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There's no cave deep enough for America, or dark enough to hide."—Oklahoma City, Aug. 29, 2002 (Thanks to Michael Shively.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The suicide bombings have increased. There's too many of them."—Albuquerque, N.M., Aug. 15, 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Brie and cheese."—Taunting a reporter who recently spent time on the West Coast, Crawford, Texas, Aug. 23, 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You'll hear people say it's racist to test. Folks, it's racist not to test. Because guess who gets shuffled through the system oftentimes? Children whose parents don't speak English as a first language, inner-city kids. It's so much easier to quit on somebody than to remediate."—Referring to his education bill, Independence, Mo., Aug. 21, 2001 (Thanks to Julie Reagan.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"One of the interesting initiatives we've taken in Washington, D.C., is we've got these vampire-busting devices. A vampire is a—a cell deal you can plug in the wall to charge your cell phone."—Denver, Aug. 14, 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It would be helpful if we opened up ANWR (Arctic National Wildlife Refuge). I think it's a mistake not to. And I would urge you all to travel up there and take a look at it, and you can make the determination as to how beautiful that country is."—Press conference, Washington, D.C., March 29, 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've coined new words, like, misunderstanding and Hispanically."—Radio-Television Correspondents Association dinner, Washington, D.C., March 29, 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And we need a full affront on an energy crisis that is real in California and looms for other parts of our country if we don't move quickly."—Press conference, Washington, D.C., March 29, 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I assured the prime minister, my administration will work hard to lay the foundation of peace in the Middle—to work with our nations in the Middle East, give peace a chance. Secondly, I told him that our nation will not try to force peace, that we'll facilitate peace and that we will work with those responsible for a peace."—Photo opportunity with Ariel Sharon, Washington, D.C., March 20, 2001 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More Bushisms above&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sort-of-ocracy&lt;br /&gt;Iraq's new government of the people, by the people, for the people... sort of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The illiteracy level of our children are appalling."—Washington, D.C., Jan. 23, 2004 (Thanks to Lewell Gunter.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"[B]y the way, we rank 10th amongst the industrialized world in broadband technology and its availability. That's not good enough for America. Tenth is 10 spots too low as far as I'm concerned."—Minneapolis, Minn., April 26, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My job is to, like, think beyond the immediate."—Washington, D.C., April 21, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is historic times."—New York, N.Y., April 20, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Obviously, I pray every day there's less casualty."—Fort Hood, Texas, April 11, 2004 (Thanks to Pat Gallagher.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Recession means that people's incomes, at the employer level, are going down, basically, relative to costs, people are getting laid off."—Washington, D.C., Feb. 19, 2004 (Thanks to Garry Trudeau.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God loves you, and I love you. And you can count on both of us as a powerful message that people who wonder about their future can hear."—Los Angeles, Calif., March 3, 2004 (Thanks to Tanny Bear.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The only thing I know about Slovakia is what I learned first-hand from your foreign minister, who came to Texas."—To a Slovak journalist as quoted by Knight Ridder News Service, June 22, 1999. Bush's meeting was with Janez Drnovsek, the prime minister of Slovenia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If the East Timorians decide to revolt, I'm sure I'll have a statement."—Quoted by Maureen Dowd in the New York Times, June 16, 1999&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Keep good relations with the Grecians."—Quoted in the Economist, June 12, 1999&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kosovians can move back in."—CNN Inside Politics, April 9, 1999&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It was just inebriating what Midland was all about then."—From a 1994 interview, as quoted in First Son, by Bill Minutaglio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob Weisberg is editor of Slate and co-author, with Robert E. Rubin, of In an Uncertain World. &lt;br /&gt;Photograph by Rick Wilking/Reuters. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The march to war affected the people's confidence. It's hard to make investment. See, if you're a small business owner or a large business owner and you're thinking about investing, you've got to be optimistic when you invest. Except when you're marching to war, it's not a very optimistic thought, is it? In other words, it's the opposite of optimistic when you're thinking you're going to war." —Springfield, Mo., Feb. 9, 2004 (Thanks to Gary Trudeau.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See, one of the interesting things in the Oval Office—I love to bring people into the Oval Office—right around the corner from here—and say, this is where I office, but I want you to know the office is always bigger than the person."—Washington, D.C., Jan. 29, 2004 (Thanks to Michael Shively.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just remember it's the birds that's supposed to suffer, not the hunter."—Advising quail hunter and New Mexico Sen. Pete Domenici, Roswell, N.M., Jan. 22, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"One of the most meaningful things that's happened to me since I've been the governor—the president—governor—president. Oops. Ex-governor. I went to Bethesda Naval Hospital to give a fellow a Purple Heart, and at the same moment I watched him—get a Purple Heart for action in Iraq—and at that same—right after I gave him the Purple Heart, he was sworn in as a citizen of the United States—a Mexican citizen, now a United States citizen."—Washington, D.C., Jan. 9, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want to thank the astronauts who are with us, the courageous spacial entrepreneurs who set such a wonderful example for the young of our country."—Washington, D.C., Jan. 14, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And if you're interested in the quality of education and you're paying attention to what you hear at Laclede, why don't you volunteer? Why don't you mentor a child how to read?"—St. Louis, Mo., Jan. 5, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So thank you for reminding me about the importance of being a good mom and a great volunteer as well."—St. Louis, Jan. 5, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want to remind you all that in order to fight and win the war, it requires an expenditure of money that is commiserate with keeping a promise to our troops to make sure that they're well-paid, well-trained, well-equipped."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See, without the tax relief package, there would have been a deficit, but there wouldn't have been the commiserate—not 'commiserate'—the kick to our economy that occurred as a result of the tax relief."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"[T]he best way to find these terrorists who hide in holes is to get people coming forth to describe the location of the hole, is to give clues and data."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm so pleased to be able to say hello to Bill Scranton. He's one of the great Pennsylvania political families."—Drexel Hill, Penn., Sept. 15, 2003 (Thanks to Michael Shively.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We had a good Cabinet meeting, talked about a lot of issues. Secretary of State and Defense brought us up to date about our desires to spread freedom and peace around the world."—Washington, D.C., Aug. 1, 2003 (Thanks to Tanny Bear.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Security is the essential roadblock to achieving the road map to peace."—Washington, D.C., July 25, 2003&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Our country puts $1 billion a year up to help feed the hungry. And we're by far the most generous nation in the world when it comes to that, and I'm proud to report that. This isn't a contest of who's the most generous. I'm just telling you as an aside. We're generous. We shouldn't be bragging about it. But we are. We're very generous."—Washington, D.C., July 16, 2003&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's very interesting when you think about it, the slaves who left here to go to America, because of their steadfast and their religion and their belief in freedom, helped change America."—Dakar, Senegal, July 8, 2003 (Thanks to Michael Shively.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My answer is bring them on."—On Iraqi militants attacking U.S. forces, Washington, D.C., July 3, 2003&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We've had a great weekend here in the Land of the Enchanted."—Albuquerque, N.M., May 12, 2003 (New Mexico's state nickname is "Land of Enchantment.")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We've got hundreds of sites to exploit, looking for the chemical and biological weapons that we know Saddam Hussein had prior to our entrance into Iraq."—Santa Clara, Calif., May 2, 2003 (Thanks to Michael Shively.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I think war is a dangerous place."—Washington, D.C., May 7, 2003&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you don't have any ambitions, the minimum-wage job isn't going to get you to where you want to get, for example. In other words, what is your ambitions? And oh, by the way, if that is your ambition, here's what it's going to take to achieve it."—Speech to students in Little Rock, Ark., Aug. 29, 2002 (Thanks to George Dupper.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See, we love—we love freedom. That's what they didn't understand. They hate things; we love things. They act out of hatred; we don't seek revenge, we seek justice out of love."—Oklahoe into Iraq."—Santa Clara, Calif., May 2, 2003 (Thanks to Michael Shively.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I think war is a dangerous place."—Washington, D.C., May 7, 2003&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you don't have any ambitions, the minimum-wage job isn't going to get you to where you want to get, for example. In other words, what is your ambitions? And oh, by the way, if that is your ambition, here's what it's going to take to achieve it."—Speech to students in Little Rock, Ark., Aug. 29, 2002 (Thanks to George Dupper.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See, we love—we love freedom. That's what they didn't understand. They hate things; we love things. They act out of hatred; we don't seek revenge, we seek justice out of love."—Oklahoma City, Aug. 29, 2002&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There's no cave deep enough for America, or dark enough to hide."—Oklahoma City, Aug. 29, 2002 (Thanks to Michael Shively.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The suicide bombings have increased. There's too many of them."—Albuquerque, N.M., Aug. 15, 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Brie and cheese."—Taunting a reporter who recently spent time on the West Coast, Crawford, Texas, Aug. 23, 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You'll hear people say it's racist to test. Folks, it's racist not to test. Because guess who gets shuffled through the system oftentimes? Children whose parents don't speak English as a first language, inner-city kids. It's so much easier to quit on somebody than to remediate."—Referring to his education bill, Independence, Mo., Aug. 21, 2001 (Thanks to Julie Reagan.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"One of the interesting initiatives we've taken in Washington, D.C., is we've got these vampire-busting devices. A vampire is a—a cell deal you can plug in the wall to charge your cell phone."—Denver, Aug. 14, 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It would be helpful if we opened up ANWR (Arctic National Wildlife Refuge). I think it's a mistake not to. And I would urge you all to travel up there and take a look at it, and you can make the determination as to how beautiful that country is."—Press conference, Washington, D.C., March 29, 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've coined new words, like, misunderstanding and Hispanically."—Radio-Television Correspondents Association dinner, Washington, D.C., March 29, 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And we need a full affront on an energy crisis that is real in California and looms for other parts of our country if we don't move quickly."—Press conference, Washington, D.C., March 29, 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I assured the prime minister, my administration will work hard to lay the foundation of peace in the Middle—to work with our nations in the Middle East, give peace a chance. Secondly, I told him that our nation will not try to force peace, that we'll facilitate peace and that we will work with those responsible for a peace."—Photo opportunity with Ariel Sharon, Washington, D.C., March 20, 2001 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More Bushisms above&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sort-of-ocracyma City, Aug. 29, 2002&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There's no cave deep enough for America, or dark enough to hide."—Oklahoma City, Aug. 29, 2002 (Thanks to Michael Shively.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The suicide bombings have increased. There's too many of them."—Albuquerque, N.M., Aug. 15, 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Brie and cheese."—Taunting a reporter who recently spent time on the West Coast, Crawford, Texas, Aug. 23, 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You'll hear people say it's racist to test. Folks, it's racist not to test. Because guess who gets shuffled through the system oftentimes? Children whose parents don't speak English as a first language, inner-city kids. It's so much easier to quit on somebody than to remediate."—Referring to his education bill, Independence, Mo., Aug. 21, 2001 (Thanks to Julie Reagan.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"One of the interesting initiatives we've taken in Washington, D.C., is we've got these vampire-busting devices. A vampire is a—a cell deal you can plug in the wall to charge your cell phone."—Denver, Aug. 14, 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It would be helpful if we opened up ANWR (Arctic National Wildlife Refuge). I think it's a mistake not to. And I would urge you all to travel up there and take a look at it, and you can make the determination as to how beautiful that country is."—Press conference, Washington, D.C., March 29, 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've coined new words, like, misunderstanding and Hispanically."—Radio-Television Correspondents Association dinner, Washington, D.C., March 29, 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And we need a full affront on an energy crisis that is real in California and looms for other parts of our country if we don't move quickly."—Press conference, Washington, D.C., March 29, 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I assured the prime minister, my administration will work hard to lay the foundation of peace in the Middle—to work with our nations in the Middle East, give peace a chance. Secondly, I told him that our nation will not try to force peace, that we'll facilitate peace and that we will work with those responsible for a peace."—Photo opportunity with Ariel Sharon, Washington, D.C., March 20, 2001 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More Bushisms above&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sort-of-ocracy&lt;br /&gt;Iraq's new government of the people, by the people, for the people... sort of&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;oo&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1747856680513245327-4361041082068066801?l=drudge22.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/feeds/4361041082068066801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2009/06/bushisms.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/4361041082068066801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1747856680513245327/posts/default/4361041082068066801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drudge22.blogspot.com/2009/06/bushisms.html' title='BUSHISMS'/><author><name>ziferstein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09449968180157770041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/SdfIOGbwCVI/AAAAAAAACI0/IOEtdnXvw4Y/s72-c/40469086.pioneer_cowboy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1747856680513245327.post-69041123331315314</id><published>2009-06-12T14:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T14:34:14.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gangs of New York</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sc6ckDUOTUI/AAAAAAAAAWk/a5QYKJATU7I/s1600-h/gangs_of_new_york_ver4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 271px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sc6ckDUOTUI/AAAAAAAAAWk/a5QYKJATU7I/s400/gangs_of_new_york_ver4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318360353150487874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sc1-_3rPBfI/AAAAAAAAAVs/Hs3x3thCsYY/s1600-h/021220_GangsOfNY-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 205px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sc1-_3rPBfI/AAAAAAAAAVs/Hs3x3thCsYY/s400/021220_GangsOfNY-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318046370736571890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; a Breughel painting come to life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  magnificent achievement— The problem is that a definitive assessment is impossible as long as we're stuck with a 2-hour-and-45-minute cut in lieu of Scorsese's preferred 3-and-a-half-hour version. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sc1-oliDbaI/AAAAAAAAAVk/R_NDWmcYp1U/s1600-h/021220_GangsOfNY-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 205px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sc1-oliDbaI/AAAAAAAAAVk/R_NDWmcYp1U/s400/021220_GangsOfNY-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318045970729233826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gangs of New York is too damned short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By David EdelsteinUpdated Friday, Dec. 20, 2002, at 5:16 PM ET&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Martin Scorsese's long-anticipated Gangs of New York (Miramax), Daniel Day-Lewis plays William Cutting, aka "Bill the Butcher," who, in his stove-top hat and long maroon waistcoat, is almost a demonic twin of Uncle Sam:  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Ruminating on the "Hibernian hordes" disembarking from ships and settling on Manhattan's Lower East Side, he assures Boss Tweed (Jim Broadbent) that he'd "shoot each and every one of them before they set foot on American soil." To drive home the point he cheerfully cleaves a few in twain. A "Native" American ("born rightwise to this land"), he doesn't want his people competing for jobs with "the bastard sons of Erin" or giving the country over "to them who had no hand in fighting for it." So, he makes the immigrants fight him for it every day, with knives and razors and cudgels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Although Cutting didn't exist, some of these battles (and the gangs, with colorful names like Shirt Tails, Plug Uglies, and Daybreak Boys) were recounted in Herbert Asbury's 1928 chronicle Gangs of New York, which Scorsese reportedly read in 1970 and has been itching to adapt ever since. It isn't hard to see what turned him on. Scorsese grew up steeped in a different sort of tribal lore in Little Italy, and Asbury's book offered a rare glimpse at those same streets from the 1840s through the 1860s, before his Italian ancestors showed up. He also saw a chance to make an American movie in the tradition of Luchino Visconti's The Leopard (1963), Bernardo Bertolucci's 1900 (1976), and Sergio Leone's Once Upon a Time in the West (1968) and Once Upon a Time in America (1984): a bloody, wide-screen epic that mixes elemental stories of love and revenge with a vision of the larger historical forces that shaped the capitalist society we know today.&lt;br /&gt;Related on washingtonpost.com&lt;br /&gt;Buy tickets for Gangs of New York on MSN.&lt;br /&gt;Related on the Web&lt;br /&gt;Visit the official Web site of Gangs. Scorsese and Weinstein went on the record about the film and their relationship in this piece in Esquire. "I've been a bad boy on movies—mea culpa," Weinstein acknowledged. "But I was good with Marty." Learn more about the history described in Herbert Asbury's Gangs of New York, and about Asbury himself, on this site. There are several sites with good information on the historic Five Points neighborhood where Gangs is set: See what archeologists have uncovered of the neighborhood here. Charles Dickens visited the dangerous slum in 1842 (with a police escort) and wrote: "This is the place: these narrow ways, diverging to the right and left, and reeking everywhere with dirt and filth. … Debauchery has made the very houses prematurely old."&lt;br /&gt;The movie, from a script by Jay Cocks, Steven Zaillian, and Kenneth Lonergan, is not the disaster that has long been rumored (and that its studio, Miramax, evidently thinks it is). Whatever its fate at the box office, it's a magnificent achievement—holes, tatters, crudities, screw-ups, and all. The problem is that a definitive assessment is impossible as long as we're stuck with a 2-hour-and-45-minute cut in lieu of Scorsese's preferred 3-and-a-half-hour version. It's rarely a good idea to review a movie one hasn't seen—and the longer cut, if it ever shows up, could prove to be deadly. But I doubt it. The film in its current state cries out for a wider canvas, for more and longer scenes of the universe outside its central triangle of movie stars and ham-fisted melodrama.&lt;br /&gt;Gangs of New York begins as the story of a boy, Amsterdam Vallon, and his tribe, and Scorsese has you first believing it's a flashback to medieval Ireland: The Irish, led by Amsterdam's solemn father (Liam Neeson), Priest Vallon, sharpen their knives, kneel before a cross, and ritualistically proceed through a cavernous warehouse to the street—an American, 19th-century street, on which they meet Day-Lewis' Bill the Butcher and his blue-kerchiefed army of "Nativists." The carnage that follows is a little too self-consciously stylized for my taste—it features a slew of mythically low-angle close-ups of combatants, along with half-second images of split skulls and blood geysers. But Scorsese establishes that the violence will be ferocious and horrific, not exhilarating. And as the butcher carves up Priset Vallon in front of his young son's eyes, he shows the primal, caveman rage of these men, who regard the stakes as monumental.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first two-thirds of the movie is shaped as a classical revenge tale, with Amsterdam (Leonardo DiCaprio) returning from the "House of Refuge" reformatory after 16 years. Concealing his identity from everyone but his friend Johnny (Henry Thomas), Amsterdam insinuates himself into Bill the Butcher's gang, which includes some of his father's old cohorts. And then, in spite of himself, Amsterdam begins to be drawn to the charismatic older man, who celebrates the killing of Priest Vallon not with mockery but genuine reverence, as the overthrow of an honorable warrior king. The dynamic is more interesting than that of the usual revenge saga: It even carries a whiff of Goodfellas (1990) in the way that Amsterdam starts to enjoy the power of being in Bill's inner circle—to the point of protecting Bill from other would-be assassins.&lt;br /&gt;The older man becomes Amsterdam's teacher in the art of killing, and he doesn't seem to mind when the youth takes up with a woman he once slept with and nurtured, the beauteous pickpocket Jenny (Cameron Diaz). In the film's most oddly touching scene, Amsterdam, having just made love to Jenny, wakes to find Bill sitting in a rocking chair beside the bed, eager to talk about the day he cut his own eye out when it looked away from an enemy, the dead priest Vallon, and the crumbling of civilization. "God bless you," Bill concludes.&lt;br /&gt;Liam Neeson, before the fallIn the past,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Scorsese's most evocative work was shot on actual streets, but the New York of Gangs of New York was created from scratch in Rome at the Cinecittà Studios. The director, cinematographer Michael Ballhaus, and production designer Dante Ferretti have gone for a dark palette with low, smoky skies and colors unintensified by sunlight. Working closely with Luc Sante, who documented the era in his irresistible history Low Life, they've created a jumbled, claustrophobic maze of listing wooden shacks and walkways, of cobblestone streets winding in and out of muddy paths. There's a lavish, music-hall staging of Uncle Tom's Cabin and a Chinese opera; and when Amsterdam prevails upon his father's old ally Monk McGinn (Brendan Gleeson) to run against Bill the Butcher's candidate for sheriff, Scorsese packs a whole political campaign into a couple of tumultuous minutes.&lt;br /&gt;It's a circus of a city, teeming with extras looking impressively busy. You can sense that Scorsese lost himself in this ecosystem—and that he lost control of the drama along the way. Cameron Diaz begins delectably as a hellion, a pickpocket, a "bludget" (alley robber), a "turtle dove" (housemaid impostor), and "a prim-lookin' stargazer" (prostitute). But suddenly she's a boringly conventional ingénue, torn between her new love and her former surrogate daddy. And the screenwriters forgot to give DiCaprio a way to hold his own against Day-Lewis: He shows little of the spring-heeled impudence he had in Titanic (1997) and has in the coming Catch Me If You Can. Leo is left to watch dourly from behind a grubby little chin-beard while his co-star chews the scenery.&lt;br /&gt;The DiCaprio-Diaz nonevent wouldn't matter as much if the movie hadn't been edited to emphasize the love triangle in lieu of other, more epic matters. Gangs of New York doesn't climax merely with the face-off between Amsterdam and Bill the Butcher: It builds to the New York Draft Riots of 1863, when a mob of mostly Irish immigrants (some of them fresh off the boat) took to the streets to protest being shipped off to die on the front lines of the Civil War. (Sons of the elite could buy out of the draft for the then-princely sum of $300.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day-Lewis upstages the whole movie. It's a wondrously, overpoweringly weird piece of acting: With his perversely deliberate speech patterns, Day-Lewis sounds more foreign than any of the so-called foreigners he's fighting, and he's not quite human.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; He squashes his eyes and curls his lower lip under his rolling mustache, then leans forward and strides through the sets in his plaid yellow trousers on legs that look like stilts. "Who does he remind me of?" I kept asking myself. Then I knew: He's like one of those giant puppets you see in Balinese theater or in left-wing agitprop troupes like the Bread and Puppet Circus. He's tacky and splendid and scaled to Scorsese's dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sc1-oliDbaI/AAAAAAAAAVk/R_NDWmcYp1U/s1600-h/021220_GangsOfNY-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 205px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bBDFciBWIFU/Sc1-oliDbaI/AAAAAAAAAVk/R_NDWmcYp1U/s400/021220_GangsOfNY-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318045970729233826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;COMPLETE SCRIPT THIRD DRAFT (LENGTH UNKNOWN)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gangs Of New York Script - Screenplay&lt;br /&gt;Swing on back to Drew's Script-O-Rama afterwards for more free movie scripts!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Jay Cocks, Steven Zaillian, Kenneth Lonergan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3rd Draft&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;INT. ROOM OLD BREWERY DAY &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Half in shadow, a man named VALLON, dressed in black, fastens a clean&lt;br /&gt;white clerical collar around his thick neck. He raises a jagged razor to&lt;br /&gt;his face, RAKES it across his right cheek, drawing BLOOD. He does not&lt;br /&gt;flinch.&lt;br /&gt;The sharp SCRAPING of the jagged blade against skin is the first SOUND we&lt;br /&gt;hear.&lt;br /&gt;VALLON cuts himself similarly on the left cheek, then hands the razor&lt;br /&gt;ceremoniously to a BOY standing beside him. The boy, no more than twelve&lt;br /&gt;years old, looks at VALLON worshipfully, keen eyes shining with fear and&lt;br /&gt;excitement. He starts to wipe the razor blade on the bottom of his jacket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;No. Never. The blood stays on the blade, son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He hands the boy a dark red velvet pouch. Very carefully, the boy, known&lt;br /&gt;as AMSTERDAM, wraps the razor up, hands it back to his father.&lt;br /&gt;From the shadows, VALLON now raises a long pole with a beautiful golden&lt;br /&gt;crucifix mounted on the end, then holds his free hand out to his son.&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam squeezes tight.&lt;br /&gt;VALLON nods toward the door. Amsterdam pulls it open. Outside is a dim&lt;br /&gt;hallway. We hear SOUNDS that might be animal or human.&lt;br /&gt;MUSIC begins: a steady, driving cadence somewhere between a march and a&lt;br /&gt;hymn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 INT. HALLWAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON strides in long measured steps. Amsterdam has trouble keeping up&lt;br /&gt;with him.&lt;br /&gt;They are walking down a long corridor that's like a tunnel. Patches of&lt;br /&gt;LIGHT stain the darkness. Sometimes Amsterdam glimpses a FACE peering out&lt;br /&gt;from the gloom. Once or twice he almost stumbles over a BODY stretched&lt;br /&gt;across his path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 INT. ROOM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another room, even smaller. The only decoration is a bizarre rendering of&lt;br /&gt;a Madonna and child painted on the wall.&lt;br /&gt;A beefy man picks up a home-made PIKE, its iron tip sharpened to a lethal&lt;br /&gt;point. He is smiling. The grin is huge, but cockeyed. It occupies only&lt;br /&gt;half of his face. The grotesque, unending grin is the result of facial&lt;br /&gt;paralysis, and has given him a nickname: HAPPY JACK MULRANEY.&lt;br /&gt;Jack lifts the pike carefully, then takes a candle from the wall and bends&lt;br /&gt;down over a wooden cage full of rabbits. He slowly moves the candle back&lt;br /&gt;and forth across the cage top. Wax falls on the cage, splattering an&lt;br /&gt;unlucky rabbit.&lt;br /&gt;Jack thrusts the pike between the wooden bars, impaling the rabbit's body.&lt;br /&gt;He pulls the pike from the cage and leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 INT. HALLWAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack falls into step beside VALLON and Amsterdam. He holds the pike with&lt;br /&gt;the dead rabbit high, next to VALLON's cross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY JACK&lt;br /&gt;Did you bring the boy for a charm, Priest?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;No, Jack. For a baptism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now a WOMAN joins them. She's dressed in man's clothes, her pants held up&lt;br /&gt;by suspenders. She wears a set of IRON CLAWS.&lt;br /&gt;MUSIC builds, growing more insistent and more ominous.&lt;br /&gt;Now a figure looms before them. Over his street clothes, this WARRIOR&lt;br /&gt;wears a rig of home-made armor made from fracgments of steel, lengths of&lt;br /&gt;chain and bits of leather. He carries a battle-axe as lightly as if it&lt;br /&gt;were a twig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RABBIT WARRIOR&lt;br /&gt;We'll send a few across the river today, Priest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He joins the procession. Another woman, as tough as the first and half&lt;br /&gt;again as large, and several more men, all armed with implements of&lt;br /&gt;destruction, fall in beside him. Their faces are marked with blood, like&lt;br /&gt;Vallan's, or covered with ritual markings made with paint and ink.&lt;br /&gt;The group grows ever larger and more forbidding. occasionally PEOPLE dart&lt;br /&gt;around them in the tunnel and scamper out of their way like animals&lt;br /&gt;frightened in a burrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 INT. ROOM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vast and dank, like a cavern. We start CLOSE on...&lt;br /&gt;... the body of a dead rat being filled with some pieces of lead.&lt;br /&gt;Then a little WIDER to reveal: an eager boy, SHANG DRAPER, about the same&lt;br /&gt;age as Amsterdam. He drops the last few pieces of lead into the mouth of&lt;br /&gt;the rat, then sews it closed. He hefts the animal by the tail, swinging it&lt;br /&gt;as he stands up.&lt;br /&gt;He is near a primitive forge where a half-drunk SLACKSMITH hammers crude&lt;br /&gt;weapons into shape and distributes them to OTHER MEN and WOMEN. The floor&lt;br /&gt;is covered with bits of lead and steel, which Shang has been using to sew&lt;br /&gt;into his rat.&lt;br /&gt;Shang FOLLOWS the crowd of men and women with their weapons. And now we&lt;br /&gt;see this room full. It is huge: the main room of the Old Brewery, crowded&lt;br /&gt;with families huddled together for warmth and comfort, or out of fear; men&lt;br /&gt;and women, together or separately, drunk or passed out. They are like zoo&lt;br /&gt;animals in a pit. There are sticks of furniture jammed in corners, or,&lt;br /&gt;more often, arranged at angles in the middle of the room to form tiny&lt;br /&gt;enclaves where the ancient brewery machinery forms irregular boundaries.&lt;br /&gt;Above Shang's head, VALLON and his gang walk across a plank bridge that&lt;br /&gt;spans the room a hundred feet beneath them. Armed men and women from the&lt;br /&gt;Brewery are climbing a rope ladder to join them. Shang SCURRIES up after&lt;br /&gt;them.&lt;br /&gt;The men and women from the Brewery fall in behind VALLON and the others in&lt;br /&gt;the lead. Shang SPOTS someone near his own age toward the front:&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam. He presses through the crowd like a hunting dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;What's the fight?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;The Dead Rabbits against the Native Americans, same as ever. But it'll all&lt;br /&gt;be settled today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;Are you Native or Rabbit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;(points to rabbit on pike)&lt;br /&gt;What do you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;Looks alright. I'll stand by you, then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 INT. HALLWAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The group now turns down the last corridor, as dim and long as a tunnel.&lt;br /&gt;In the distance, there's a faint glimmer of light and the figure of a MAN&lt;br /&gt;(MONK EASTMAN). VALLON stops near the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN&lt;br /&gt;(lightly)&lt;br /&gt;I suppose there's to be a fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON catches the heavy Celtic inflection in the man's voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;Derry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN&lt;br /&gt;Donnegal. Name's Monk Eastman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;And you want to fight, Mr. Eastman?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MONK&lt;br /&gt;lf there's money in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;Fight for the Natives. They have a proper war chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MONK&lt;br /&gt;Well, I might at that. But I thought I'd ask you first, seeing as how I'm&lt;br /&gt;not quite a Native American myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;Let's see your skills, and we'll talk of payment later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MONK&lt;br /&gt;Fine. But if you like what you see, pay me double.&lt;br /&gt;Monk turns to the door with the grace of a dancer and delivers a&lt;br /&gt;SHATTERING kick, sending it flying off its hinges. Clear white LIGHT&lt;br /&gt;streams in, and we see Monk Eastman plain for the first time: a huge man,&lt;br /&gt;in stature and girth, wearing a small DERBY that intentionally makes his&lt;br /&gt;head look even bigger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;(as the door splinters settle)&lt;br /&gt;Stand with us then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7 EXT. STREET DAY (WINTER)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WINTER WIND blows across a scene as strange and bleak as an alien planet.&lt;br /&gt;VALLON, carrying his cross high, steps through the doorway. The OTHERS&lt;br /&gt;slowly follow VALLON out of the building, which is three stories high and&lt;br /&gt;maybe a block long. A dilapidated sign identifies it as the 5 Paints&lt;br /&gt;Brewery.&lt;br /&gt;It is the tallest structure in the midst of low, squalid SHACKS, winding&lt;br /&gt;ALLEYS as narrow as a snakels back, and DIRT STREETS filled with ruts, mud&lt;br /&gt;and filthy snow. A few PIGS wander forlornly about, rooting for garbage.&lt;br /&gt;WASH hangs stiff, in the middle of the square, from a peculiar monument&lt;br /&gt;erected to some forgotten war hero.&lt;br /&gt;The Brewery occupies one side of a SQUARE surrounded by some storefronts&lt;br /&gt;and a couple of collapsed wooden sidewalks. If this place resembles&lt;br /&gt;anything at all, it's a horrible hybrid of London's Limehouse and a&lt;br /&gt;pioneer town in the American West whose best days have long passed--or&lt;br /&gt;never came at all.&lt;br /&gt;VALLON stands still, staring across the square past the monument. His&lt;br /&gt;battalion of irregulars waits for his signal.&lt;br /&gt;Now... very, very slowly...from around both sides of the monument comes&lt;br /&gt;ANOTHER GANG, in size the same as VALLON's, men and women both, armed like&lt;br /&gt;Visigoths with HOMEMADE WEAPONS: knives, pitchforks, building blocks and&lt;br /&gt;bricks, boards with sharp nails protruding from the ends. Every member of&lt;br /&gt;this second group is dressed in a long DUSTER which reaches to the ankles.&lt;br /&gt;Several MEN in front of the group sport dusters made of leather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;Bill Poole! on whose challenge are we assembled?&lt;br /&gt;A MAN in a leather duster (BILL THE BUTCHER) steps forward. He is young,&lt;br /&gt;lean and fierce. And then there are his eyes. They do not match. One is&lt;br /&gt;real. The other is a huge, bulging PEARL upon which has been engraved,&lt;br /&gt;instead of a pupil, a full-color portrait of the AMERICAN EAGLE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the side of the square, arranged to get a good view of the impending&lt;br /&gt;combat, is a group of STREET KIDS, girls and boys, none older than eight.&lt;br /&gt;They talk and laugh excitedly among themselves, picking their own&lt;br /&gt;favorites among the gangs as if the warriors were players on a team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;On the challenge of the Native Americans, to settle for good and all who&lt;br /&gt;holds sway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;Bene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;By the ancient laws of combat, we offer our bodies to the ghosts of those&lt;br /&gt;warriors who have gone before us. Valor is avid for glory, and glory is in&lt;br /&gt;our wounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;But this time can you bear to look on the glory when it comes, Bill? Can&lt;br /&gt;you see it clear with your single eye?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;Whoever fights untouched in battle has skill, but the warrior who returns&lt;br /&gt;wounded has been touched by God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't God who touched your eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;It was God gave me guidance. Will you be able to look on the death blow&lt;br /&gt;like a gladiator, and not look away? No honorable man turns an eye from&lt;br /&gt;his death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;I don't expect a death blow from your hand, Butcher. Let's have at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;There is another matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;Say it out and quick, before spring gets here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;No Native American Warrior will dishonor himself with the blood of the&lt;br /&gt;halt and maimed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;So?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;So we would like to know whether Squire Jack Mulraney of the Dead Rabbits&lt;br /&gt;can smile out of both sides of his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A pause of a single second. Then HAPPY JACK takes the dead rabbit off the&lt;br /&gt;tip of his pike and hurls it across the square. It lands right at BILL THE&lt;br /&gt;BUTCHER's feet.&lt;br /&gt;In a flash, BILL THE BUTCHER opens his coat. Inside, on a special belt he&lt;br /&gt;carries a CLEAVER, a CARVING KNIFE and other instruments of the butcherls&lt;br /&gt;trade, all stained with blood and gristle. Now the MAN standing next to&lt;br /&gt;him removes the broad BELT from around his coat. The brass buckle is&lt;br /&gt;sharpened to a point, the leather studded with glass.&lt;br /&gt;The gallery of Street Kids tenses for action: they are thrilled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON reaches up to the CROSS, pulls off the top piece, to disclose,&lt;br /&gt;underneath, a gleaming sword point. He folds the arms of the cross down,&lt;br /&gt;like the blades of a jackknife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;Prepare to receive the Lord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the air is full of screams and battle cries as the two gangs hurl&lt;br /&gt;across Paradise Square into BATTLE.&lt;br /&gt;VALLON draws first blood. He impales a Native American on the sword end of&lt;br /&gt;his cross and turns to fight again.&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam and Shang exchange a glance of frightened, worried wonder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then a Native American rushes at them, shouting for blood. The boys act&lt;br /&gt;together. Amsterdam dives down in front of the man, sending him sprawling.&lt;br /&gt;Shang BLUDGEONS the fallen warrior, using his lead-filled rat like a&lt;br /&gt;blackjack as Amsterdam kicks him savagely; the Native collapses&lt;br /&gt;unconscicus at their feet. Before the boys can thank one another, however,&lt;br /&gt;they are separaten by the SURGING GANGS all around them.&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER leaves his meat CLEAVER imbedded in the middle of a man's&lt;br /&gt;skull, then WADES through the combat as if shielded by a charm.&lt;br /&gt;The gallery of Street Kids is thrilled by this display and reacts with&lt;br /&gt;CHEERS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON BATTLES three Natives who come at him at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monk Eastman grabs a Native in his arms like a groom hugging a bride. He&lt;br /&gt;raises his knee and brings the man crashing down across it, BREAKING his&lt;br /&gt;spine like a Thanksgiving wishbone.&lt;br /&gt;The gallery of Street Kids is awed by this display of power from a new&lt;br /&gt;star in the making.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Rabbit Warrior in the home-made armor grins at an intrepid Native and&lt;br /&gt;lowers his battle-axe. The Native rushes as the&lt;br /&gt;Rabbit Warrior swings and SEPARATES the man from his legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A NATIVE WOMAN lowers her head and charges her Dead Rabbit adversary,&lt;br /&gt;delivering a shattering BUTT to his stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A NATIVE BOY holds a rusty old pistol, which he uses at pointblank range&lt;br /&gt;against several Rabbits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A RABBIT WOMAN flies into a Native, using her IRON FINGER EXTENSIONS to&lt;br /&gt;GOUGE his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The NATIVE with the deadly belt uses it to TEAR a piece out of a Rabbit's&lt;br /&gt;face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam, beginning now to be overwhelmed by the hellish fight, looks&lt;br /&gt;around in growing PANIC for his father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG uses his lead-rat blackjack to clear an escape back toward the&lt;br /&gt;Brewery. The Street Kids can tell he's trying to escape, and start BOOING&lt;br /&gt;him...&lt;br /&gt;... as Shang's GRABBED from behind and pulled off his feet by a PEG-LEGGED&lt;br /&gt;NATIVE. He THROWS the boy to the ground and pins him by holding the&lt;br /&gt;sword-sharp point of his wooden leg against Shang's throat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;(desperate)&lt;br /&gt;I run with you! I'm one of you! Born a Native American from the blood of&lt;br /&gt;five generations!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PEG-LEG&lt;br /&gt;Yeah? Then you oughta be a red Indian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He pushes down. Shang starts to bleed. But now PEG LEG is distracted by&lt;br /&gt;the sudden SOUND of bells and whistles. He watches the BOY trembling on&lt;br /&gt;the ground, then moves off him, making for the sound of the bell, leaving&lt;br /&gt;the BOY quaking.&lt;br /&gt;The SOUND grows louder as TWO HORSE-DRAWN CARTS full of battle ready&lt;br /&gt;POLICE tear around the curve of a narrow thoroughfare and stop in Paradise&lt;br /&gt;Square.&lt;br /&gt;The BELLS on the carts toll loudly and work magic. The fighting stops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The POLICE, all carrying clubs and wearing leather helmets, LEAP OFF the&lt;br /&gt;wagons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are several moments of ABSOLUTE SILENCE, broken only by the SOUND of&lt;br /&gt;the wind and the GROANS of the wounded.&lt;br /&gt;Then, as one, the Dead Rabbits and the Native Americans RUSH the police&lt;br /&gt;together, hurtling stones and brandishing weapons. Even the Street Kids&lt;br /&gt;get into the act, kicking and biting and generally having a fine time.&lt;br /&gt;The gangs SWARM all over the police, driving them back. Some lucky cops&lt;br /&gt;climb back on the wagons and try to get away. The unlucky police remain&lt;br /&gt;behind, dead on the ground.&lt;br /&gt;The GANGS cheer, jeer and continue to throw things at the retreating&lt;br /&gt;POLICE. When the second wagon disappears from view, the GANGS confront&lt;br /&gt;each other once again.&lt;br /&gt;Another brief moment of QUIET. The Street Kids settle back into their&lt;br /&gt;spectator role. Then the GANGS go at each other with fresh intensity.&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam finally SEES his father and starts to PUSH his way toward him.&lt;br /&gt;VALLON and BILL THE BUTCHER stand facing each other in the midst of battle&lt;br /&gt;like two titans: then they rush at each other, joining with a terrible&lt;br /&gt;fury.&lt;br /&gt;Shang, still blindly SWINGING his blackjack, makes his way closer to the&lt;br /&gt;relative safety of the Brewery, his face stained with tears of fear. He&lt;br /&gt;hits someone. The MAN turns, swats him down. Shang sprawls on the street,&lt;br /&gt;which is a SWAMP of mud and blood and dirty snow, and finds himself face&lt;br /&gt;to face with a departed PEG LEG. Someone has removed his artificial limb&lt;br /&gt;and driven it through his heart.&lt;br /&gt;Across the square, Amsterdam has reached his father in time to see a&lt;br /&gt;NATIVE AMERICAN sneaking up behind him. Amsterdam grabs a long TRUNCHEON&lt;br /&gt;from a fallen warrior and uses it to hit the man a strong blow behind the&lt;br /&gt;knees.&lt;br /&gt;The MAN falls, howling. AMSTERDAM HITS him again. And again. He is&lt;br /&gt;hysterical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON and BILL THE BUTCHER keep fighting. Amsterdam sees, with a single&lt;br /&gt;look, that his father is in the fight of his life. He looks for a weapon&lt;br /&gt;to help...&lt;br /&gt;... sees a HATCHET lying by the body of the Rabbit he has just beaten&lt;br /&gt;senseless. He grabs it and runs forward, looking for an opening between&lt;br /&gt;the Butcher and his father...&lt;br /&gt;As the two combatants move, Amsterdam MOVES. Bobbing, weaving, feinting,&lt;br /&gt;falling back... looking for his chance...&lt;br /&gt;... as Bill deals VALLON a blow that ROCKS him back and throws him off&lt;br /&gt;balance...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...just as Amsterdam has made his move. He RUSHES forward, sees his father&lt;br /&gt;FALLING, tries to turn but...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... too late. The boy's hatchet SLASHES his father in the leg. VALLON&lt;br /&gt;falls to one knee, gestures frantically to the stunned Amsterdam to get&lt;br /&gt;away...&lt;br /&gt;... and Bill is upon VALLON, SINKING his knife into his chest. VALLON&lt;br /&gt;screams and falls on his back, Bill kneeling over him. He looks into his&lt;br /&gt;enemy's eyes ... and VALLON's EYES LOCK ON HIS. For all his suffering,&lt;br /&gt;VALLON's eyes HOLD Bill ... he forces himself to look at Bill...it's a&lt;br /&gt;terrible struggle... but VALLON will not look away.&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam, hysterical, RUSHES at the Butcher. The Butcher grabs Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;by the arm, making him drop his hatchet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;You need a weapon? Use a knife.&lt;br /&gt;He puts the struggling boy's hand on the hilt of the knife that the&lt;br /&gt;Butcher sunk into his father's chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;It makes a deeper cut.&lt;br /&gt;And, HIS HAND GUIDING THE BOY'S, he RAMS his knife deep into VALLON's&lt;br /&gt;heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;Say a benediction, Priest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON bellows in agony. Amsterdam screams at the very same moment, his&lt;br /&gt;cry mingling with his fatherls tearing through the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;(to Amsterdam)&lt;br /&gt;Hold this close to mind, boy, should you ever think of going up against&lt;br /&gt;the Native Americans.&lt;br /&gt;Bill the Butcher rises and all around him, as if on some mysterious&lt;br /&gt;signal, the fighting subsides. A DEAD RABBIT sees the fallen Vallon, takes&lt;br /&gt;a battered brass HORN from his belt and sounds THREE NOTES, quick and&lt;br /&gt;sharp. As the notes fade away, the fighting stops completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;(announcing)&lt;br /&gt;Ears and noses will be trophies of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Rabbits SCAMPER to collect their dead and wounded before the Natives&lt;br /&gt;can get to them to slice off the battle souvenirs. But there are many&lt;br /&gt;corpses maimed. The Street Kids DISPERSE. The main battle is over, and the&lt;br /&gt;Natives have clearly carried the day.&lt;br /&gt;The Rabbits file past Vallon, rorming a protective CIRCLE around him.&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam kneels at his side. Vallon tries to speak. Blood bubbles in his&lt;br /&gt;throat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;Can't..can't cross the river... with steel through my heart.&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam looks around. None of the Rabbits makes a move. This is clearly&lt;br /&gt;something he is meant to do himself.&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam grabs the tortoise handle of the knife, PULLS on it. Vallon&lt;br /&gt;tries not to cry out. The knife does not move.&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam tries again. He can't budge the knife. Vallon MOANS. Nearly&lt;br /&gt;wild, Amsterdam PULLS with all his strength. Vallon SCREAMS in agony.&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam is pulling so hard he raises his father's back four inches off&lt;br /&gt;the ground. Still the knife will not move. Vallon passes out from the pain.&lt;br /&gt;Now, finally, someone steps forward: Monk Eastman. He leans over but&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam, berserk with grief, pushes him away, turns back to his father,&lt;br /&gt;and, with a last desperate pull, DRAWS the knife from his father's heart.&lt;br /&gt;He throws it on the ground. Monk picks it up, wipes the blade on his arm,&lt;br /&gt;closes the knife and hands it to Amsterdam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MONK&lt;br /&gt;That's yours, rightfully.&lt;br /&gt;Now Monk leans over the lifeless body and reaches inside Vallon's coat,&lt;br /&gt;REMOVING some money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MONK&lt;br /&gt;And this is mine. Only what's owed. Use the rest for funeral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;No!&lt;br /&gt;He tries to shove Monk away from his father, when the Native Warrior&lt;br /&gt;intervenes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY JACK&lt;br /&gt;It's fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam, wild with shock and grief, turns back to his father as Monk&lt;br /&gt;takes what's owed him. Amsterdam bends over to KISS Vallon on both cheeks,&lt;br /&gt;then on his left eye.&lt;br /&gt;The boy is just about to kiss his fatheros closed right eye when the lid&lt;br /&gt;springs OPEN - Amsterdam jumps back despite himself. Vallon stares at him:&lt;br /&gt;a last moment of recognition.&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;Hon ...&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;No, Pa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VALLON&lt;br /&gt;... honor me... think of me ... don't never look away.&lt;br /&gt;Vallon convulses and DIES. Amsterdam shakes him to revive him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RABBIT WOMAN&lt;br /&gt;Take the body. Bring the boy.&lt;br /&gt;Several RABBITS take a step or two forward, but Amsterdam springs up at&lt;br /&gt;them, like an animal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RABBIT WARRIOR&lt;br /&gt;Come an, lad. Therels nothing to be done now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Get away! Get away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY JACK&lt;br /&gt;Leave him be. He's his to mourn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the RABBITS turn away, going back to the Old Brewery or vanishing down&lt;br /&gt;the narrow streets.&lt;br /&gt;Now a few CITIZENS venture out into Paradise square. A couple of&lt;br /&gt;SCAVENGERS scoot about, looting bodies.&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam stays in the center of the square unmoving, undisturbed, keeping&lt;br /&gt;solitary vigil over his father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A TITLE is superimposed across this scene:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEW YORK CITY 1844&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 EXT. HARBOR DAY WINTER (MATTE)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same afternoon. As the sun goes down, we have our first full look&lt;br /&gt;(MATTE) at the low pale outlines of the city.&lt;br /&gt;The harbor is crowded with the high masts of sailing ships. Just north of&lt;br /&gt;the island tip is the steeple of the city's tallest structure, Trinity&lt;br /&gt;Church. The buildings of Wall Street are masses of concrete and wood, the&lt;br /&gt;streets surrounding them paved with cobblestones. Just above the financial&lt;br /&gt;district are the sloping buildings and rutted avenue of the Five Points .&lt;br /&gt;The Old Brewery stands tall and forbidding over Paradise Square.&lt;br /&gt;Above the Five Points, in the distance, we can glimpse some finer, newer&lt;br /&gt;buildings. One wide street--Broadway--seems to run from the very tip of&lt;br /&gt;the island clear up into the woods just a few miles north of the harbor.&lt;br /&gt;The only SOUNDS are the lapping of the harbor water against the boats, the&lt;br /&gt;creaking of masts in the winter WIND.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9 EXT. HARBOR DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A closer view - The TITLE fades off. We see an imposing edifice on the&lt;br /&gt;edge of the harbor with a wooden sign identifying: "IMMIGRATION&lt;br /&gt;DEPARTMENT, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA."&lt;br /&gt;The sun has nearly set. A boy--about 10 years old--sits on the edge of the&lt;br /&gt;Castle Garden dock, gazing down at the frozen Hudson. He can just about&lt;br /&gt;make out his reflection in the dull sheen of the ice. His name is JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;SIROCCO, and he watches himself with bewildered seriousness.&lt;br /&gt;Abruptly, he reaches down and SMASHES through the ice with his fist. In&lt;br /&gt;SLOW MOTION, we watch the ice fragments drift apart in the river current,&lt;br /&gt;each bearing away a REFLECTION of Johnnyls face, like pieces of a puzzle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;POLICEMAN&lt;br /&gt;Where's your family, sonny?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnny sees a POLICEMAN scrutinizing him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;(lilting brogue)&lt;br /&gt;My mother's just there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gestures toward a ship, where MEN are unloading cargo. In a hoist, they&lt;br /&gt;are lowering a thin pine COFFIN to dockside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;On the trip, her insides all broke up. She wasn't dead and there was three&lt;br /&gt;others fighting for her bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;POLICEMAN&lt;br /&gt;And your father? Where's he, then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;I never knew him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;POLICEMAN&lt;br /&gt;(taking Johnny's hand)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We better see to you, then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 EXT. STREET NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Policeman leads an awed Johnny through the TEEMING streets of the Five&lt;br /&gt;Points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;POLICEMAN&lt;br /&gt;Where all those streets come together right ahead is the true Five Points.&lt;br /&gt;But most speak of the Five Points and mean anywhere between the Battery&lt;br /&gt;and the Bowery.&lt;br /&gt;Although the night's cold, the streets are jammed. WHORES painted like&lt;br /&gt;carnival Gypsies sell themselves to any man sober enough to stand up.&lt;br /&gt;SOUNDS of laughter and combat filter out from garish SALOONS like the&lt;br /&gt;Little Naples, the Hell Hole, the Egyptian Hall.&lt;br /&gt;In the midst of all this highlife are BEGGARS and the SICKLY, looking for&lt;br /&gt;charity, scrounging garbage in the street. An INDIGENT battles a CRIPPLE&lt;br /&gt;for a meager scrap of faod. A richly dressed WOMAN, riding by in a&lt;br /&gt;carriage, hides her eyes by raising a HUGE BOUQUET OF FLOWERS in front of&lt;br /&gt;her face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;POLICEMAN&lt;br /&gt;Streets hereabouts are lively of an evening. The city comes here to sport.&lt;br /&gt;But there's places to put up a boy on his own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three WOMEN, exquisitely costed, burst from the door of the Egyptian Hall.&lt;br /&gt;Under the harsh glare of a nearby gas lamp, their faces are no longer&lt;br /&gt;striking. Johnny STARES; there is something not right about these faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;And those? What are those?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;POLICEMAN&lt;br /&gt;Well, those. Those are, as you might say, a sort of...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We SEE one of the women's faces, suddenly harsh under gaslight: under&lt;br /&gt;thickly caked make-up is a smiling TRANSVESTITE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;POLICEMAN&lt;br /&gt;... sort of whatnot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TRANSVESTITE&lt;br /&gt;Say, policeman. I'll buy your bonny friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Policeman fetches the Transvestite a strong WHACK with his nightstick.&lt;br /&gt;The Transvestite screams and falls ... and Johnny RUNS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;POLICEMAN&lt;br /&gt;Hey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Johnny's off, already lost in the mad street life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;INT. MORTUARY NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A funeral chapel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vallan's body lies in state. He is wearing his gang regalia, and all the&lt;br /&gt;Dead Rabbits FILE PAST his coffin in solemn tribute. A WOMAN bends down&lt;br /&gt;and kisses the body. Happy Jack Mulraney holds Vallon's crucifix, which he&lt;br /&gt;has obviously inherited. As a disreputable looking Minister mutters&lt;br /&gt;PRAYERS, Happy Jack whispers to a silent Amsterdam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY JACK&lt;br /&gt;We passed the plate amongst ourselves. Come up with enough ned to carry&lt;br /&gt;all this, and carry you a while, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stuffs some money in Amsterdam's pocket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Where will my father rest?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY JACK&lt;br /&gt;Potters Field, with everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;My father won't be buried with everyone else. He'll lie separate in fresh&lt;br /&gt;ground, facing east.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY JACK&lt;br /&gt;What difference where he faces?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;He'll face east for the second coming of Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY JACK&lt;br /&gt;Fine, son. When Jesus gets to the Battery you show Him the way from there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Minister finishes the service. MR. CORNELIUS, a funeral director who&lt;br /&gt;resembles one of his own customers, ushers in a WOMAN (MAGGIE) pulling a&lt;br /&gt;lovely 10 year old GIRL (JENNY EVERDEKNE) by the hand. The woman is&lt;br /&gt;obviously drunk, the girl frightened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MR. CORNELIUS&lt;br /&gt;Will you have music, entlegen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOMAN (MAGGIE)&lt;br /&gt;My daughter'11 do any song you like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY JACK&lt;br /&gt;Not tonight, Maggie, we got...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monk Eastman interrupts from the Background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MONK&lt;br /&gt;How much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAGGIE&lt;br /&gt;Any ned in your pocket, sir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MONK hands MAGGIE some coins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MONK&lt;br /&gt;She sing sweet as she looks?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAGGIE&lt;br /&gt;Pure celestial, sir.&lt;br /&gt;(to girl)&lt;br /&gt;Go on, Jenny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny's voice is sweet as promised. The song she SINGS, however, is a&lt;br /&gt;bawdy saloon song. Maggie cuts her off fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAGGIE&lt;br /&gt;No, Jen, the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny starts to sing a HYMN. To avoid looking at the corpse, she lets her&lt;br /&gt;eyes rove all around the chapel until she SEES Amsterdam. She locks&lt;br /&gt;straight at him until the hymn is over. And he does not take his eyes off&lt;br /&gt;her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12 INT. MORTUARY HALLWAY NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Cornelius is about to escort Maggie and Jenny into another room&lt;br /&gt;crowded with mourners when a smartly-dressed man (DANIEL KILLORAN)&lt;br /&gt;gestures to him from the shadows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILLORAN&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Tweed would like a word, Mr. Cornelius.&lt;br /&gt;(Cornelius hesitates)&lt;br /&gt;Tweed of Tammany.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the mention of the name, Cornelius shoos Maggie and Jenny into the&lt;br /&gt;mourning room and shuts the door behind them. Then he gives Killoran his&lt;br /&gt;full attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILLORAN&lt;br /&gt;In your office. At your pleasure, of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13 INT. MORTUARY OFFICE&lt;br /&gt;As the door opens, we see a man gazing out the narrow window onto the&lt;br /&gt;spectacle in the next building. He is in his late 20s, already a little&lt;br /&gt;fleshy but dressed with dash: WILLIAM TWEED... "BOSS" TWEED. He shows a&lt;br /&gt;bemused, almost schalarly interest in the goings-on next door.&lt;br /&gt;This mortuary is located next to a bordello, where the windows are&lt;br /&gt;uncurtained and the energy and variety of the&lt;br /&gt;activities inside is astounding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tweed finally TURNS as Killoran opens the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Cornelius. With a view like this I'm surprised the dead can rest in&lt;br /&gt;peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CORNELIUS&lt;br /&gt;Is there anything I can...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;(interrupting)&lt;br /&gt;Yes. A favor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CORNELIUS&lt;br /&gt;Happy to serve, Mr. Tweed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Excellent. Lend me something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CORNELIUS&lt;br /&gt;(puzzled)&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I don't know what I could ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;I believe in form and appearance, you see. Just like yourself, sir. And I&lt;br /&gt;believe in law, and the power of example. Our city is a lawless&lt;br /&gt;wilderness, sir. I'm asking you to help chasten it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CORNELIUS&lt;br /&gt;A matter of civic duty, then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;And civic pride. I want you to help me set an example.&lt;br /&gt;(smiles)&lt;br /&gt;I only need to borrow one of your clients.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14 INT. MORTUARY NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two native Americans open the door where Vallon is laid out and Bill the&lt;br /&gt;Butcher STRIDES into the room.&lt;br /&gt;There is immediate TENSION, like an electric charge, as other Natives&lt;br /&gt;stand in the doorway and crowd the hall stand while Bill walks over to the&lt;br /&gt;coffin. He places a BLACK ROSE in Vallon's folded hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow your cortege will cross Paradise Square, into territory protected&lt;br /&gt;by the Native Americans. You will be permitted undisputed passage both&lt;br /&gt;ways. That is our tribute. After that, any Rabbits wishing to join the&lt;br /&gt;Native Americans and willing to swear blood loyalty will be welcomed. All&lt;br /&gt;others will be dispatched.&lt;br /&gt;He starts out of the silent room, but STOPS when he sees Mank Eastman&lt;br /&gt;looking at him with easy interest. Bill the Butcher&lt;br /&gt;STARES him down, but Monk's gaze never wavers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;I'll expect you first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MONK&lt;br /&gt;Me? Oh, I don't know. All that talk of blood loyalty makes me quake. I'll&lt;br /&gt;spill blood when the price is right. But blood for ceremony? I prefer holy&lt;br /&gt;communion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;You saw us fight today. You know we can pay any price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MONK&lt;br /&gt;Not mine. Not now, and not any time after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;We'll see. Independence is a slippery thing. But being a rival ... well,&lt;br /&gt;that's dead dangerous.&lt;br /&gt;Bill brushes past Monk and leaves, followed by the NATIVES.&lt;br /&gt;Now the RABBITS file out, with Monk among them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY JACK&lt;br /&gt;Come on, boyo. I'll put you up tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;I'll do for myself, Jack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY JACK&lt;br /&gt;You can't.&lt;br /&gt;(Amsterdam stares at him)&lt;br /&gt;There's no mistaking you're his son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Jack leaves Amsterdam alone in the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, by himself, sure of no one seeing, Amsterdam CRIES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15 INT. MORTUARY NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Cornelius is seated in his office, enjoying a late supper while&lt;br /&gt;looking out his window at the bordello activity across the alley. A NOISE&lt;br /&gt;at the door disturbs him: Amsterdam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;What's the cost to bury my father proud and proper?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MR. CORNELIUS&lt;br /&gt;For a plot, a headstone, hands to break the earth...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;How much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MR. CORNELIUS&lt;br /&gt;What are your current means?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam turns out his pockets, which contain Bill the Butcher's pirate&lt;br /&gt;knife as well as the cash Happy Jack pressed on him. Cornelius TAKES it&lt;br /&gt;all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MR. CORNELIUS&lt;br /&gt;Of course you'll have to wait three days for a city permit. But all this&lt;br /&gt;may do for part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam takes the knife back from Cornelius.&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;That's owed another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16 EXT. STREET/PARADISE SQUARE DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A grey day. Amsterdam stops in front of a window. He STRUGGLES with his&lt;br /&gt;scarf, trying to keep himself warm. His eye strays for a moment, and he&lt;br /&gt;sees he is outside Mr. Cornelius' Establishment. Then he NOTICES something&lt;br /&gt;else....&lt;br /&gt;.... his FATHER, propped up in a coffin, on public display. There is a&lt;br /&gt;large sign beside the body: "The Dead End of Lawlessness. Tammany Abhors&lt;br /&gt;Crime. Tammany Means Justice."&lt;br /&gt;A sizeable CROWD is goggling at the body. Amsterdam BULLS his way through&lt;br /&gt;the people to the street. He looks in the gutter, then looks up quickly.&lt;br /&gt;Someone is watching him: Johnny. He's carrying an armful of wood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;Firewood?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam grabs the longest plank Johnny has.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;It's a penny the load.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He turns with the plank in his hand and starts to RUN back through the&lt;br /&gt;crowd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;Hey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnny manages to GRAB the other end of the plank. But Amsterdam's so&lt;br /&gt;strong he YANKS him right along. The Crowd YELLS as it parts for&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam, who CHARGES through using the plank like a battering ram, with&lt;br /&gt;Johnny on the far end, born along by stubbornness and momentum...&lt;br /&gt;... toward Mr. Cornelius' window. Amsterdam SHATTERS the window and the&lt;br /&gt;Crowd SCATTERS in a blizzard of GLASS.&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam stumbles into the window and against the coffin, which falls&lt;br /&gt;over, spilling Vallon's BODY, knocking the boy over. Amsterdam picks&lt;br /&gt;himself up as Johnny stands frozen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Help me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He starts to pull his fatherls body from the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Come on! Help me, goddamn it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a daze, Johnny steps forward and HELPS Amsterdam pulls the body onto&lt;br /&gt;the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now: the SOUND of WHISTLES and WHEELS and RUNNING HORSES as a wagon full&lt;br /&gt;of POLICE arrives on the scene. Behind them, the Crowd returns, yelling&lt;br /&gt;insults.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The police RUN toward the window. Mr. Cornelius dithers at the front of&lt;br /&gt;the crowd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam and Johnny exchange a look. Then Johnny RUNS for it. Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;stays with the body...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... as the cops close in, SWINGING clubs. Amsterdam's grabbed and hit a&lt;br /&gt;couple of times. The Crowd yells. A COP swings his arm back to give&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam a good wallop...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... and someone grabs his arm: Bill The Butcher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;Easy, crusher. What's this all about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CRUSHER&lt;br /&gt;Ask the boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;I paid Cornelius for my father to rest in honor. He told me I had to wait&lt;br /&gt;on a permit, but he only wanted time to...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL picks up the Tammany sign from the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;Make another Arrangement, looks like. For advertising.&lt;br /&gt;(to cop)&lt;br /&gt;Better go along. I'll see to all this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;COP&lt;br /&gt;The boy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;Take the little malefactor.&lt;br /&gt;The Cops YANK the wildly flailing Amsterdam to his feet and DRAG him off&lt;br /&gt;to their wagon. Bill The Butcher approaches Cornelius.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;Give the boy what he paid for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17 EXT. STREET/PARADISE SQUARE DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam is HURLED into the police wagon. The door is locked behind him.&lt;br /&gt;He pulls himselt to his feet, looks out the tiny barred window, SEES ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... Dead Rabbits join up in a rough funeral procession. SEVERAL help LOAD&lt;br /&gt;Vallon's body back into the coffin and place it onto Mr. Cornelius' fancy&lt;br /&gt;funeral wagon. Monk Eastman LEAPS up onto the wagon and closes the coffin&lt;br /&gt;lid tight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are PEDDLERS everywhere. One dispenses drinks from a portable&lt;br /&gt;samovar. A SAILOR hawks ships in a bottle, repeatedly shouting the same&lt;br /&gt;advertisement: "Encourage the work of a landswamped sailor!" A SILHOUETTE&lt;br /&gt;ARTIST offers to draw portraits of passersby.&lt;br /&gt;Funeral music is furnished by STREET MUSICIANS: a drummer, a fiddle&lt;br /&gt;player, and a horn player, with a couple of BUSKERS performing along side&lt;br /&gt;for good measure.&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Cornelius takes the wagon reins and guides the horses out of the&lt;br /&gt;square. The gang FOLLOWS solemnly behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And across the square, the police wagon carrying Amsterdam starts MOVING&lt;br /&gt;OFF in the opposite direction. He keeps looking out the tiny wagon window.&lt;br /&gt;The funeral procession leaves the square and activity returns quickly to&lt;br /&gt;normal. Peddlers' CRIES once again fill the air. The Buskers start PLAYING&lt;br /&gt;a snappier tune. SNOW begins to fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18 INT- TOMBS DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A huge, awful prison building modeled on an Egyptian mausoleum.&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam--trying to hide his growing fear--waits on line with other&lt;br /&gt;PRISONERS, all of them older than he.&lt;br /&gt;At the head of the line, prisoners are being processed by a JAILER and a&lt;br /&gt;couple of COPS. Each prisoner is asked several cursory questions, then&lt;br /&gt;told to strip. Every one of the men is SCARRED in some way.&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM nears the front of the line. The MAN just ahead of him&lt;br /&gt;undresses. His left buttock is missing, and his back is covered with whip&lt;br /&gt;scars. A PRISONER behind Amsterdam WHISPERS loud enough for Amsterdam to&lt;br /&gt;hear...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PRISONER&lt;br /&gt;Ain't his first Tombs trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANSTERDAM steps up to the desk. The JAILER hardly takes notice of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JAILER&lt;br /&gt;What do they call you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is the first time in the film we have heard his name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The JAILER looks him over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JAILER&lt;br /&gt;Your full name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Vallon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The JAILER writes this down with a scratchy pen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JAILER&lt;br /&gt;First name?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;I told you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JAILER&lt;br /&gt;(skeptical, resigned)&lt;br /&gt;Address?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Got none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JAILER&lt;br /&gt;I'll put city. Now what's your age?&lt;br /&gt;(Amsterdam shrugs.)&lt;br /&gt;Maybe twelve. Got a family?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;No more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JAILER&lt;br /&gt;Well, where was they from when you had one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;(beat)&lt;br /&gt;City.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JAILER&lt;br /&gt;(writing)&lt;br /&gt;Disrobe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Amsterdam obeys, the Jailer turns to the Cop in the leather helmet&lt;br /&gt;standing at his side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JAILER&lt;br /&gt;What's the charge, Asbury?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;COP&lt;br /&gt;Theft. Assault. Creating a ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Jailer finishes writing. Amsterdam stands naked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JAILER&lt;br /&gt;Through that door there.&lt;br /&gt;(lowers his voice)&lt;br /&gt;And don't stand too near no one else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19 INT. CREMORE NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The largest, noisiest, gaudiest dive we have yet seen, full to bursting&lt;br /&gt;with bawdy CUSTOMERS even at this late hour. Therels a long bar, where men&lt;br /&gt;and women stand three deep; lots of small tables; a dance floor; and a&lt;br /&gt;stage on which four blowsy DANCING GIRLS are giving out with a ribald&lt;br /&gt;number titled "My Father's Teeth Were Plugged With Zinc."&lt;br /&gt;One end of the bar is entirely taken up by a huge woaden keg with an&lt;br /&gt;attached hose. BAR ATTENDANTS DUMP the unfinished contents of glasses into&lt;br /&gt;the open barrel top as a line of FAR GONE DRUNKS wait their turn for the&lt;br /&gt;hose. Maggie, Jenny's mother, is close to the front of the line, very&lt;br /&gt;drunk, hanging on to a mush-faced HOODLUM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two VISITORS watch. One has a pad and makes quick SKETCHES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VISITOR ONE&lt;br /&gt;Ought to be served in a trough, properly. Will you try some?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARTIST&lt;br /&gt;Probably. What is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VISITOR ONE&lt;br /&gt;All-Sorts. It's made of all that's poured and not drunk, and any they can&lt;br /&gt;salvage that's spilt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maggie GRABS the hose, staring at the Artist as she takes a drink. His&lt;br /&gt;hand moves quickly an the page, SKETCHING her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VISITOR&lt;br /&gt;(to Maggie)&lt;br /&gt;Your health.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She SPITS at him, insulted. The Artist steps forward, puts some of the&lt;br /&gt;All-Sorts from the hose into his glass, and toasts Maggie. She nods and&lt;br /&gt;turns away....&lt;br /&gt;...as Johnny enters, dragging a large SACK across the crowded floor toward&lt;br /&gt;a far door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20 INT. CREMORE BACK ROOM NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnny RUSHES toward a wooden pen in the center of the room. There are&lt;br /&gt;cries from the crowd of SPORTSMEN of "Hurry it up" and "More speed!"&lt;br /&gt;Johnny dodges a kick or two before he finally arrives at the pen.&lt;br /&gt;He UPENDS the sack over the pit and a dozen live RATS tumble out. A&lt;br /&gt;GAMEMASTER slips Johnny a couple of cents as he starts his spiel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GAMEMASTER&lt;br /&gt;Alright, gents and ladies, your bets now on Towser against the vermin, the&lt;br /&gt;count to beat is ten rodents in three minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The crowd starts to place bets. A sleepy Johnny settles down close to&lt;br /&gt;ringside to watch the show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a signal from the Gamemaster, a TRAINER tosses TOWSER--A fierce&lt;br /&gt;mongrel--into the ring. The crowd cheers lustily, continuing to shout out&lt;br /&gt;bets, as the dog goes after the rats.The rats, fighting for their lives,&lt;br /&gt;bite the dog, attaching themselves to his body. Towser retaliates by&lt;br /&gt;gnawing the rats, SNAPPING them in half and spitting them out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the CROWD cheers, and Towser kills, and money changes hands, Johnny&lt;br /&gt;curls up and goes to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21 INT. TOMBS NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A row of cells, noisy and cold. The GUARD shoves Amsterdam into a cell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GUARD 2&lt;br /&gt;You get to live private until they come from the orphan's asylum. On&lt;br /&gt;account of your tender years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing in the cell but a board for a bed, and a window through&lt;br /&gt;which Amsterdam can see the late winter moonlight. He looks for stars in&lt;br /&gt;the sky, but can see none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22 INT- MAIN ROOM/OLD BREWERY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny Everdeane and a girl FRIEND, her own age, huddle together in a dark&lt;br /&gt;corner of this huge space. The Friend opens her hand to show Jenny a&lt;br /&gt;glimpse of what she's clutching: a penny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;Let me see! I don't believe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FRIEND&lt;br /&gt;(closing her hand)&lt;br /&gt;No! It's a danger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;Oh come on! It's not.&lt;br /&gt;(Friend shakes her head)&lt;br /&gt;Then tell me where you got it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FRIEND&lt;br /&gt;From some man. He took me in his carriage. He only wanted to do something&lt;br /&gt;to me fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FRIEND&lt;br /&gt;(shrugs)&lt;br /&gt;I didn't understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;Would he do the same with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FRIEND&lt;br /&gt;I won't tell you if he's around again.&lt;br /&gt;(clutches penny tight)&lt;br /&gt;He's my secret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;Better keep it more careful, then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Friend GETS UP and starts across the Brewery floor, acting nonchalant.&lt;br /&gt;But she looks around her, across the sleeping, passed-out bodies, past the&lt;br /&gt;desperate families and their squalling infants, to see if she's been&lt;br /&gt;noticed.&lt;br /&gt;A man and two women cast a glance her way. She looks away, but the TRIO&lt;br /&gt;keeps watching her... then FANS OUT and starts to FOLLOW her.&lt;br /&gt;The Friend looks over her shoulder again. SEES the Man. Locks in another&lt;br /&gt;direction, SEES: the woman. And then: the second woman. All closing on her.&lt;br /&gt;The Friend starts to RUN. The Trio runs after her. And no one else pays&lt;br /&gt;attention. The Friend PLUNGES into one of the warren of TUNNELS that lead&lt;br /&gt;off the Brewery floor.&lt;br /&gt;CAMERA plunges through the darkness, after her. Her footsteps ECHO; there&lt;br /&gt;is the SOUND of stumbling, falling, an angry CURSE and a BLOW being&lt;br /&gt;struck. The FRIEND picks herself up out of the darkness and keeps running,&lt;br /&gt;CAMERA following down the dank halls.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly the TRIO runs AHEAD of the camera. There is a SCREAM. CAMERA&lt;br /&gt;staps. And others SOUNDS follow quickly now: the dull THUD of a heavy&lt;br /&gt;object against bone, REPEATED several times; and then, very soon after,&lt;br /&gt;the most terrible sound of all: silence.&lt;br /&gt;Then Two Women emerge from the darkness of the tunnel, fighting over the&lt;br /&gt;penny. The Man, several steps behind them, throws an object to the dirt&lt;br /&gt;floor: it's a STONE, and it is covered with blood. He comes up behind the&lt;br /&gt;Two Women quickly and GRABS the penny from them with a hand that still&lt;br /&gt;DRIPS blood and gore. They CHASE after him across the crowded Brewery&lt;br /&gt;floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23 INT. HALLWAY/TAMMANY NIGHT 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CAMERA races along the ornate corridor, past PORTRAITS of many affluent&lt;br /&gt;and self-important GENTLEMEN... through a door and into...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24 INT. TWEEDIS OFFICE/TAMMANY NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... Tweed's domain. Small in size, but there are dozens of CAGES OF&lt;br /&gt;CANARIES all around. Tweed looks up startled as the door flies open. The&lt;br /&gt;birds set up a COMMOTION.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CAMERA bears down on Tweed as a pair of HANDS grabs him and hurls him&lt;br /&gt;against the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill The Butcher GLARES at Tweed. Some NATIVES come into the room behind&lt;br /&gt;him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;You come into the Five Points and you stole from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;I don't know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;You stole Vallon. He was my kill. My example, of my power. You took him&lt;br /&gt;and made him yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;You're a lunatic to come here like...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the background, same of the NATIVES have begun to play CATCH by&lt;br /&gt;removing the CANARY CAGES from their places and tossing them all over the&lt;br /&gt;room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;Thank you. Just listen good. The Native Americans holds the Five Points.&lt;br /&gt;We have prevailed. What you do outside the Points is your deciding.&lt;br /&gt;Outside is your city. Inside the Points is mine. Anyone who says&lt;br /&gt;different, or does different, or thinks different...&lt;br /&gt;(smiles)&lt;br /&gt;... theylll draw my unwelcame attention. You understand?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOSS TWEED&lt;br /&gt;I do understand, yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL pushes him away and starts out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOSS TWEED&lt;br /&gt;But you don't understand at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill keeps walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOSS TWEED&lt;br /&gt;There's a whole city to share and all you see is your own narrow streets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;(turns now)&lt;br /&gt;You just stay out of my place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOSS TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Yes, alright. Gladly. It's all blackjack jobs and panel games and killings&lt;br /&gt;for a fiver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill waits for Tweed to continue. But Tweed stoops and tries to soothe a&lt;br /&gt;canary in a cage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;It's good work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOSS TWEED&lt;br /&gt;As far as it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;You wouldn't be talking to me otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOSS TWEED&lt;br /&gt;But we're talking about different things, Bill. You describe the present.&lt;br /&gt;I see the possibilities. Look to the future. There is so much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Butcher starts to look interested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25 INT. TWEED'S OFFICE NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later. The Natives have cleared out; only Tweed and the Butcher remain.&lt;br /&gt;The cages have been restored to their proper places and the room has been&lt;br /&gt;straightened. Bill stands beside the door, while Tweed relaxes in a chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOSS TWEED&lt;br /&gt;There's things demanding to be done that no police force can do, not even&lt;br /&gt;an obedient one. There's contributions from every dive and brothel.&lt;br /&gt;Loyalties to be secured and debts to be collected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOSS TWEED (Cont'd)&lt;br /&gt;And now you and your Natives have emerged as the foremost force in the&lt;br /&gt;Five Points, I'm prepared to extend you an opportunity. You can work for&lt;br /&gt;Tammany...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;We work for no one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOSS TWEED&lt;br /&gt;... beside Tammany... in the performance of these civic obligations. And&lt;br /&gt;for a satisfactory... I'm prepared even to say equitable... financial&lt;br /&gt;participation. It's not the sort of responsibility the founding fathers&lt;br /&gt;might have recognized. But then, the founding fathers never imagined the&lt;br /&gt;city New York has become.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you Tammany boys should do your own lifting and carrying and muscle&lt;br /&gt;work. Might build you up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOSS TWEED&lt;br /&gt;We'd like to. I do miss it. But it's wiser for men in the public life to&lt;br /&gt;give an appearance of probity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;Then get cops to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOSS TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Oh Jesus, no. The appearance of law must be upheld, especially while it's&lt;br /&gt;being broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;Appearance means nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOSS TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps not within the Points. But the smart man could go higher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill looks at Tweed for a long moment. The he SHOVES himself away from the&lt;br /&gt;wall, pulls away the chair on which Tweed has been resting his feet and&lt;br /&gt;sits down close to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;If you can talk plain, maybe we can do business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26 EXT. STREET NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A small slum thoroughfare congested by a splendid FIRE-WAGON labeled&lt;br /&gt;"Americus Co./Tammany Hall." Curious SPECTATORS and panic-stricken&lt;br /&gt;RESIDENTS crowd around to watch a ramshackle building going up in FLAMES.&lt;br /&gt;As Johnny presses through the crowd to get a good look at the fire, Tweed,&lt;br /&gt;in a white coat and fancy fire helmet, steps off the fire wagon to address&lt;br /&gt;an ONLOOKER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Anyone inside?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ONLOOKER&lt;br /&gt;No, praise God, but all we own...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED places a bucket over the only fire plug in the vicinity, then sits&lt;br /&gt;on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ONLOOKER&lt;br /&gt;Well?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Waiting on reinforcements.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The SOUND of another bell, nearby. Down the street from the opposite&lt;br /&gt;direction come TWO MORE FIRE-WAGONS. The crowd starts cheering. Tweed does&lt;br /&gt;not move from the plug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;That's not them. It's only the Black Jokes. Seems your fire interrupted&lt;br /&gt;their festivities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wagons pull up next to the fire plug. Each of them has the words&lt;br /&gt;"Black Joke Fire Co." written large on the side, but the FIREMEN wear&lt;br /&gt;party costumes, not regular uniforms. Some are dressed as British&lt;br /&gt;Redcoats, still others as Indians.&lt;br /&gt;The FLAMES continue to devour the building, but Tweed does not budge from&lt;br /&gt;the plug. He is approached by the Black Jake chief, who is dressed as an&lt;br /&gt;Indian chief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHIEF&lt;br /&gt;May I point out that the building is burning to ashes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Certainly. And may I then remind you, Pocahontas, that this entire area is&lt;br /&gt;the province of the Americus company, and you will kindly keep your&lt;br /&gt;distance.&lt;br /&gt;Impasse. The rival Fire Companies size each other up and start toward each&lt;br /&gt;other. The building continues to burn. Tweed remains regal and unperturbed&lt;br /&gt;atop the fire plug.&lt;br /&gt;As the two COMPANIES are about to close with each other, a second BELL&lt;br /&gt;sounds. Tweed's "reinforcements" have arrived: the Native Americans, led&lt;br /&gt;by Bill The Butcher. They PILE OFF the wagons before the horses halt. Now&lt;br /&gt;the Black Joke Co. is outnumbered, and it FALLS BACK. As the Crowd CHEERS,&lt;br /&gt;Tweed takes the bucket off the fire plug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Alright, boys! To work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The MEN of the Americus Co. give a great SHOUT and start firefighting: a&lt;br /&gt;hose is hitched up to the plug, buckets are filled, a primitive pump sends&lt;br /&gt;water spluttering everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;But there is not much blaze left to combat and the Men quickly grow&lt;br /&gt;frustrated. Tweed realizes this immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Next building over, boys! Mustn't let it spread!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The men charge into a neighboring building, STOMPING down doors, CLIMBING&lt;br /&gt;through windows and SWINGING AXES with gusto, all to save a building that&lt;br /&gt;is in no danger at all.&lt;br /&gt;A local poll named DANIEL KILLORAN detaches himself from the crowd and&lt;br /&gt;approaches Tweed, giving him a hearty SLAP on the back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILLORAN&lt;br /&gt;Another proud night for Tammany, Bill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Just tell them...&lt;br /&gt;(lowers his voice)&lt;br /&gt;... to take enough to share. And not to steal so in the open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed, the Men are leaving the building with lots of LOOT. CITIZENS who&lt;br /&gt;question their right to do this are promptly KNOCKED DOWN. Killoran GRABS&lt;br /&gt;Bill The Butcher as he rushes by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Jesus! Boss says to tell you to fight the fire from the front and loot out&lt;br /&gt;the back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill grins and leaves to spread the word as an angry WOMAN approaches&lt;br /&gt;Tweed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TEARFUL WOMAN&lt;br /&gt;The Black Joke could have saved my house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Black Joke had no business here, Madam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TEARFUL WOMAN&lt;br /&gt;Their business was to save my house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Tammany's your business. When we're here to call upon there's no need of&lt;br /&gt;other. We understand loss, Madam, and take care of our own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Tweed leads her off, away from the blaze and the thieving, he passes a&lt;br /&gt;boy sitting an the curb, watching the fire ... and watching Tweed ... with&lt;br /&gt;admiration. It's Johnny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The FLAMES light up his EYES as we...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DISSOLVE TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27 INT. BREWERY NIGHT 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny's face, as she tries to sleep on a narrow, filthy mattress. Her&lt;br /&gt;mother Maggie lies beside her, crowding her, THRASHING about in a&lt;br /&gt;troubled, drunken sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DISSOLVE TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28 INT- ROOM/HIGH BRIDGE ORPHANS ASYLUM 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam, eyes wide, lying on a cot in the middle of a long room crowded&lt;br /&gt;with KIDS - This place is a step or two up from the Brewery--but not a big&lt;br /&gt;step. He stares at the ceiling, eyes grave, untroubled by the small cries&lt;br /&gt;of loneliness and fear that come from some of the beds surrounding him. As&lt;br /&gt;we move CLOSE on his EYES we...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DISSOLVE TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29 EXT. HIGH BRIDGE ORPHANS ASYLUM DUSK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... the same eyes. But OLDER. Smart and full of savagery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is Amsterdam. He is now in his early 20s, fully grown and no man to&lt;br /&gt;trifle with. Moving with jungle stealth and strength he ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... BURSTS out the door within the massive frame of a great iron gate over&lt;br /&gt;which hangs the sign "High Bridge Orphan Asylum." He starts to RUN and a&lt;br /&gt;TITLE comes up...&lt;br /&gt;1852&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pursued by GUARDS, Amsterdam runs hell-for-lather for a long vaulted&lt;br /&gt;bridge. It's a beautiful, stern old Romanesque span across the Harlem&lt;br /&gt;River with rolling banks of leafy trees on the far side. Even in the&lt;br /&gt;twilight, we can see that it is late spring, the end of a long afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30 EXT. HIGH BRIDGE DUSK (MATTE)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam is on the bridge. But he does not slow up until ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... two orphanage GUARDS suddenly TACKLE him. A THIRD GUARD beats him with&lt;br /&gt;a billy club. Amsterdam moans and curses, as much from frustration as pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SECOND GUARD&lt;br /&gt;It's Blackwell's Island certain now, boyo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The SECOND GUARD pulls AMSTERDAM up by the hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIRD GUARD&lt;br /&gt;Are you hurting? Let's hear you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam won't give him the satisfaction. The Guard hits him. Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;goes down, biting his lip so he won't cry out. Instead, he forces a SMILE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SECOND GUARD&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing funny, boyo! You been beat and turned back four times now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;But every time you bring me back... you got to come further to catch me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31 EXT. CORLEAPS' HOOK PIER NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;Through the THICK FOG comes a ghostly apparition: a tattered SKULL AND&lt;br /&gt;CROSSBONES, made of rags, fluttering from the mast of a leaky, unstable&lt;br /&gt;vessel.&lt;br /&gt;The bow of the small boat breaks the fog, and on board we see: a hulk&lt;br /&gt;called SHEENY MIKE KURTZ and a huge black kid named JIMMY SPOILS, manning&lt;br /&gt;the cars. Johnny Sirocco, grown wary and wiry, peers into the fog like a&lt;br /&gt;lookout, while Shang Draper, at the tiller, looks anxious.&lt;br /&gt;The HULL of a large boat suddenly laoms in front of them, not five yards&lt;br /&gt;away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;Hard starboard, Shang! Hard starboard!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;(panic)&lt;br /&gt;I told you forget that sailor stuff! Which way's star...&lt;br /&gt;Too late. Their Ticket craft crashes into the side with enough force to&lt;br /&gt;make a LOUD THUMP and to send Shang sprawling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHEENY MIKE&lt;br /&gt;(sarcastic)&lt;br /&gt;Why don't we just knock on their front door?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shang gestures for QUIET. They wait and listen. No sound from the deck of&lt;br /&gt;the boat above them. The boys throw two ROPE LADDERS over the rail of the&lt;br /&gt;larger ship and start climbing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32 EXT. SHIP NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys board the ship and gather on deck. They look around uneasily,&lt;br /&gt;spooked by the silence and the fog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;Spread out and make for the cabin.&lt;br /&gt;Moving slowly, the boys FAN OUT and move toward the cabin at the far end&lt;br /&gt;of the deck. Johnny stays close to Shang, holding onto the shipls rail for&lt;br /&gt;support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;(whispering)&lt;br /&gt;Nothing. Looks picked clean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnny stops. His hand, on the railing, is BLOODY. On the other side of&lt;br /&gt;the deck, Sheeny Mike discovers more traces of blood and SIGNALS Shang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;Bill and the Natives must have got here first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnny freezes in terror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;What ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A long SHADOW falls across his shoulder. Shang jumps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Standing before him, holding a musket and covered in blood, is the ship's&lt;br /&gt;CAPTAIN. A BUTCHER'S CLEAVER is imbedded between his neck and shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;With his dying energy, the Captain takes AIM at a petrified Shang and&lt;br /&gt;fires his musket.&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy Spoils JUMPS the Captain from behind, sending the musket ball way&lt;br /&gt;wide. But the SOUND of the musket is thunderaus, and echoes through the&lt;br /&gt;harbor. The boys panic and head for the side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHEENY MIKE&lt;br /&gt;That'll bring the Harbor cops for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;(about the dead man)&lt;br /&gt;Wait! Take him. If he's still alive he's good for ransom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHEENY MIKE&lt;br /&gt;Hels dead as Good Friday, can't you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;Then we'll take Bill the Butcher's cleaver and sell the body to the&lt;br /&gt;medical students. They'll go five dollars for it anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;Come on. We'll get something out of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shang and Johnny start DRAGGING the body. Pushing, pulling and mostly&lt;br /&gt;panicked, the others help. As they boost the body over the side, the SOUND&lt;br /&gt;of a bell cuts through the fog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHEENY MIKE&lt;br /&gt;The Harbors!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shang shoves the body off the side and into the boat. It lands with a&lt;br /&gt;resounding THUD. The boys CLAMBER after it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33 EXT. BOAT/RIVER NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PUSHING OFF with cars, tearing their rope ladders from the side of the&lt;br /&gt;ship, stumbling over the captain's body, the boys slip off into the fog.&lt;br /&gt;The Harbor Police are so close to them they can see a police LANTERN&lt;br /&gt;shining. The boys stay absolutely still. Suddenly, WE SEE: the POLICE&lt;br /&gt;BOAT, breaking through the fog, then&lt;br /&gt;DISAPPEARING again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHEENY MIKE&lt;br /&gt;We can't go back to Corlears Hook, they'll be watching...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;We'll make for Blackwells.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JIMMY SPOILS&lt;br /&gt;And which way's that through this fog?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnny throws his hands up for quiet. From close by comes the SOUND of&lt;br /&gt;COP'S VOICES. They are near. Very near. The boys stay as still as they&lt;br /&gt;can...&lt;br /&gt;... and the VOICES recede again in the thick fog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JIMMY SPOILS&lt;br /&gt;Should have asked them directions as they drifted by, Shang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;You'd have liked that, wouldn't you Coal Face? You're the only one they'd&lt;br /&gt;miss in the dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHEENY MIKE&lt;br /&gt;Let's quiet, or we'll all be found out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the BOYS stay still, their boat DRIFTS against an outcropping of land&lt;br /&gt;and STOPS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;Alright. We lay up here till first light. Then we run back across the&lt;br /&gt;river.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JIMMY SPOILS&lt;br /&gt;(contemptuously)&lt;br /&gt;River pirates!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spoils settles back and tries to sleep. Johnny watches Shang in the bow.&lt;br /&gt;Shang is too agitated to notice Johnny's stare. He looks away, waiting for&lt;br /&gt;the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34 EXT- BLACKWELLS ISLAND DAWN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shang drowses in the boat, fighting fatigue, then succumbing to it. But&lt;br /&gt;h's brought awake suddenly by a loud SPLASH. He looks in the direction of&lt;br /&gt;the noise, SEES ...&lt;br /&gt;... the BODY of the slaughtered ship's captain floating away in the&lt;br /&gt;company. He starts to cry out but Amsterdam GRABS him, locking his throat&lt;br /&gt;in the crook of his arm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;(to everyone)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Push off! Or his pipe snaps!&lt;br /&gt;The other boys are too stunned to resist. They push the boat away from the&lt;br /&gt;island.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Head straight out, then turn for the current.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He pushes Shang away from him. The two boys stare at each ather, finally&lt;br /&gt;remembering...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;(breathing hard)&lt;br /&gt;Figured you for dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Close enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;This is my crew. And welcome to join, if you've the mettle. We're river&lt;br /&gt;pirates and quick thieves and street brawlers...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;(casual disdain)&lt;br /&gt;You're lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;Yeah? You've no business saying anything against us! Do you know how much&lt;br /&gt;you cost us? You know how much that body's worth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;I doubt it's worth the water it's floating in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;Fifteen dollars! Fifteen dollars from them medical ghouis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;I'll make it back for you whatever it is, once we're in the city. Just&lt;br /&gt;keep sailing, or we're all done for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;(beat; to crew)&lt;br /&gt;Go ahead then.&lt;br /&gt;(beat; to Amsterdam)&lt;br /&gt;He was in his prime. He'd have fetched thirty dollars easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35 INT. HIDEOUT DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A ramshackle room near the docks. It is part meeting hall, part living&lt;br /&gt;quarters for the gang, and part clearing house forstolen goods. SHANG&lt;br /&gt;presides over a boisterous meeting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JIMMY SPOILS&lt;br /&gt;You're as flat as Broadway going north. We can't run the river no more.&lt;br /&gt;We're poaching the Natives and the Harbor cops are looking for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;The cops can go to blazes. Who cares about them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHEENY MIKE&lt;br /&gt;Youlre all sand when it comes to cops, Shang. But do you have the sand to&lt;br /&gt;go against the Natives?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;It ain't the time to go against the Natives. We've got to build first.&lt;br /&gt;Then we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JIMMY SPOILS&lt;br /&gt;If we go like we did in the river, all of us'll sink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam is sitting off to the side, watching this ongoing debate with&lt;br /&gt;contemptuous detachment. Johnny sits next to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Does Shang have the sand to ever go against the Natives?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. He acts like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;If he only acts, held be better on the stage.&lt;br /&gt;(looks away)&lt;br /&gt;Like her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His tone of voice has changed. Jenny Everdeane passes before him; she's&lt;br /&gt;ravishing. Amsterdam STARES, as if he's trying to see into her heart.&lt;br /&gt;Jenny pays him scant attention as she moves across the room toward Shang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;Jenny Everdeane. Shang turned her into the best bludget in the Points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny gives Shang silk scarfs, wallets and several purses from her coat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Shes his mort, is she, as well as his best provider?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. But Jenny says she's anyone's she chooses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny's haul is impressive. Shang picks a BRIGHT RED SILK SCARF with a&lt;br /&gt;distinctive PAISLEY design from the pile of stolen goods. He examines it&lt;br /&gt;with a shrewd, appreciative eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;That's the prize of the month. Spice Islands silk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He puts the scart in his coat pocket with a FLOURISH, then throws his arm&lt;br /&gt;about Jenny in a proprietary way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;You'll learn our way if you're going to be one of us, Amsterdam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny reacts slightly to the mention of the name: she looks over and&lt;br /&gt;RECOGNIZES Amsterdam now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;Every one of us gives a portion of all they steal to the gang. Morts more&lt;br /&gt;than men, being morts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Yeah? And why is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;Because morts have more resources. Men can work only on their feet, but a&lt;br /&gt;mort can turn out on her back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;I mean, why give at all? Why don't they keep for themselves?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;If you think there's something off about my way of running things, you got&lt;br /&gt;no place in this gang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;I got no place anyway, and you got no gang. This ain't a gang, no matter&lt;br /&gt;what you say. It's a mob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a tense hush in the grubby room. Shang takes his arm from around&lt;br /&gt;Jenny, wanting to be restrained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;(smiling)&lt;br /&gt;It's all your play now, Shang. Maybe you can set him right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny hands him a cane. Barely managing to hide his reluctance, he&lt;br /&gt;starts--slowly--toward Amsterdam, who stands his ground. The gang steps&lt;br /&gt;back to give them room in this tiny space. Shang pulls the cane apart:&lt;br /&gt;it's a SWORD CANE, but Amsterdam shows no fear. He shifts his weight a&lt;br /&gt;little, watching ... and they're interrupted by a...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VOICE (HAPPY JACK)&lt;br /&gt;You boys settle with me before you settle each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They turn to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY JACK&lt;br /&gt;I've come for my due and proper, Shang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Jack Mulraney (the Dead Rabbit gang member with the halfparalyzed&lt;br /&gt;face) stands before them in a POLICEMAN'S UNIFORM-sparkling clean and&lt;br /&gt;splendid--a leather helmet and long coat. In his hand, he twirls a&lt;br /&gt;NIGHTSTICK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;As agreed, then, Jack. Refreshment?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shang OPENS the top of the gold-handled sword cane. Inside are large,&lt;br /&gt;solid LUMPS of cocaine. Jack reaches for the choicest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Still smiling, are you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY JACK&lt;br /&gt;(sizing him up)&lt;br /&gt;It's the young Vallon, is it? I hardly recognized you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;I hardly knew you under that hat, Jack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By now, Jack has taken not only the cocaine, and the money and swag Shang&lt;br /&gt;offers, but several of the purses and wallets Jenny delivered. Jenny&lt;br /&gt;stares at him with contempt, and he laughs, tossing one of the purses back&lt;br /&gt;at her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JACK&lt;br /&gt;There. For your respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack turns to leave but a BRASH BOY blocks his way. Moving fast and fancy,&lt;br /&gt;Jack bashes the Boy to the floor with his nightstick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY JACK&lt;br /&gt;Anybody else? Any number at all, come on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several of the gang make a move toward Jack, but Shang WAVES them back.&lt;br /&gt;Jack departs UNHARMED, to general disgust. Jenny walks back across the&lt;br /&gt;room to help the Brash Boy. Shang GLARES at Amsterdam, slides his sword&lt;br /&gt;back into his cane and follows Jenny, trying to explain himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Is that sand we've just seen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;It's politics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36 EXT. PARADISE SQUARE DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A hot summer day. All the TRADESMEN are out in force, jamming the square&lt;br /&gt;and the side streets leading to it. Amsterdam walks fast through the&lt;br /&gt;crowd, enjoying the freedom and the bustle, as Johnny tags along close&lt;br /&gt;behind him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;I've got my own way to go, why don't you find yours?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;Because your way's different, and I want to see where it goes.&lt;br /&gt;(Amsterdam looks at him)&lt;br /&gt;Unless you say otherwise. Amsterdam shrugs and keep walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;You act like you have something in mind, like you know every day what&lt;br /&gt;you'll be doing the next. Me, I don't figure on tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Well, if you shut up a while maybe it'd come on its own.&lt;br /&gt;(he stops, looks)&lt;br /&gt;Now what the hell's that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;(following his glance)&lt;br /&gt;Oh that's heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WE SEE what they're looking at: the Old Brewery. In worse shape than ever&lt;br /&gt;before, but shut-down, abandoned. A tattered banner flaps against the&lt;br /&gt;front door: "Future Home of the Five Points Mission/ Praise God!/ The&lt;br /&gt;Reverend Shadrach Raleigh, Pastor."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;The city shut down the Brewery as unfit to live and Tammany gave it over&lt;br /&gt;to this minister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAN&lt;br /&gt;What's Tammany?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;Why Tammany ... you don't know? Tammany makes the city run. A political&lt;br /&gt;organization that's like... like the Native Americans, only ranging over&lt;br /&gt;the whole city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37 MONTAGE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Johnny continues to speak, we see Tammany tactics in action:&lt;br /&gt;WARD-HEALERS dispensing coal to the poor, and TOUGHS stealing meat off of&lt;br /&gt;butcher's wagons; a political PARADE with fife and drum-and&lt;br /&gt;politicians--including Boss Tweed--in ceremonial Indian costume, and a&lt;br /&gt;group of GOONS busting up a saloon; Tweed making a speech to enthusiastic&lt;br /&gt;CONSTITUENTS and a Tammany Fire Company tearing through the streets,&lt;br /&gt;scattering everyone in their way, finally revealing they are not rushing&lt;br /&gt;to a fire but are CRASING OFF a rival fire company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;They seem like the law, but they got a way of acting outside the law.&lt;br /&gt;Anything that happens in this city, on the straight or on the sly,&lt;br /&gt;Tammany's a part of, and Boss Tweedls the heart of Tammany.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38 EXT. PARADISE SQUARE,/OLD BREWERY DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam studies Johnnyls enthusiastic face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;They're the best gang there is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;So if Tammany's the best, go with Tammany. What are you running with this&lt;br /&gt;mob for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;'Cause they're more my size for now. With Tammany, you got to do something&lt;br /&gt;large, something that makes them take notice of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAN&lt;br /&gt;You're better oft without their notice. You can run free, work your own&lt;br /&gt;schemes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;But if your schemes have size, you need size to bring them off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;What are you thinking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnny shrugs, grins: he doesn't want to give anything away. Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;understands, turns toward the Brewery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Let me in if you ever get it figured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam starts toward the Old Brewery, Johnny keeping step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;I'll go on my own from here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnny STOPS and Amsterdam continues on by himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39 INT. MAIN ROOM/OLD BREWERY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Echoing. Dank. Amsterdam holds a candle high for light. RATS skitter. He&lt;br /&gt;crosses the main floor, enters one of the side tunnels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40 INT. ROOM/OLD BREWERY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tiny room we recognize from the first scene: this is the place where&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam lived with his father. He crouches and TEARS UP some&lt;br /&gt;floorboards, then quickly LOWERS HIMSELF into the hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41 INT. UNDER FLOOR/OLD BR.EWERY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A short tunnel under the Brewery floor, the kind a kid might make.&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam has trouble crawling through it. DIRT and ROCK sprinkle him&lt;br /&gt;until he finds what he wants stuck in a shallow hole; a battered leather&lt;br /&gt;MONEY PURSE; and a PAPER-WRAPPED PACKAGE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam snaps open the purse to make sure the little bit of MONEY is&lt;br /&gt;still there, then turns his attention to the package. He TEARS it open.&lt;br /&gt;Inside is the PIRATE KNIFE that Bill the Butcher used to kill Amsterdam's&lt;br /&gt;father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam handles the knife carefully as he opens it. The candle light&lt;br /&gt;makes the blade GLEAMS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42 EXT. ALLEY/OLD BREWERY DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A shock of summer SUNLIGHT as Amsterdam emerges from one of the back&lt;br /&gt;entrances of the Brewery onto a fetid alley filled with rotted barrels,&lt;br /&gt;broken glass and insensible drunks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam looks carefully up and down the alley, letting his eyes adjust&lt;br /&gt;to the bright light. Ahead of him, he SEES ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shang Draper, in jovial conversation with a SECOND MAN we do not&lt;br /&gt;recognize. The man is bareheaded, and has a deep scar running back to&lt;br /&gt;front clear down the center of his bald head. Amsterdam waits, WATCHES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shang takes the RED SILK SCARF he got from Jenny's swag and hands it to&lt;br /&gt;the Second Man. He and Shang SHAKE HANDS, as if they have concluded a&lt;br /&gt;business deal, and the Second Man walks away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam PRESSES himself close to the door as Shang LOOKS AROUND...&lt;br /&gt;doesn't see Amsterdam... and walks off in the opposite direction, across&lt;br /&gt;Paradise Square.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43 INT- RECEPTION ROOM AND TWEED'S OFFICE DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main room is as loud and as prosperous as the stock exchange. Bill the&lt;br /&gt;Butcher makes his way past Small GROUPS of men engaged in heated political&lt;br /&gt;dealings of dubious virtue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill knocks on the door to Tweed's private office while he's opening it.&lt;br /&gt;Inside is Boss Tweed, seated in a large WOODEN BOX like a primitive sauna.&lt;br /&gt;Around him are various PETITIONERS, and his assistant Daniel Killoran.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;I dread city stimmers. They bring illness and beget vermin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PETITIONER #l (GLEASON)&lt;br /&gt;My plague box fends off all pestilence. Its elixir combats ill humors...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILLORAN&lt;br /&gt;We can't have every citizen of the Five Points boxed up like cargo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;But the season is vicious, and I must take thought of our constituents.&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Gleason, I'd like you to shake hands with Mr. Barnett Baff...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gleason, dubious, shakes hands with PETITIONER #2 as Bill the Butcher&lt;br /&gt;looks on with amusement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;A friend and owner of an estimable carting service. Work out an&lt;br /&gt;arrangement whereby the citizenry can receive the benefit of Mr. Gleason's&lt;br /&gt;wondrous elixir outside this excellent box. At a cost, Mr. Gleason, of how&lt;br /&gt;much the barrel ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GLEASON&lt;br /&gt;(figuring rapidly)&lt;br /&gt;Oh, perhaps twenty-five dollars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;...and how much, Mr. Baff, for haulage and distribution...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BAFF&lt;br /&gt;The same again. At least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;At least. That's a price of fifty dollars. And greedy, low piracy at that&lt;br /&gt;(Gleason and Baff splutter)&lt;br /&gt;But a price that Tammany, in its generosity, will meet. Merely submit a&lt;br /&gt;bill for a hundred. We'll each have half. And I'll retain this box for&lt;br /&gt;further experiment. Hello, Bill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Killoran LEADS the astonished Gleason and Baff away as Bill APPROACHES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Bolt the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill complies. As Tweed speaks and the anti-plague VAPORS SWIRL around his&lt;br /&gt;head, he keeps his eyes closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Scotchy Lavelle's gone wrong in his accounts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;I know. Scotchy's a good man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Not good enough to rake thirty percent of our share from Sparrow's and use&lt;br /&gt;it for his own.&lt;br /&gt;(opens his eyes)&lt;br /&gt;You got to give him over, Bill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;I can't do that. No matter what he steals, I still get more from him than&lt;br /&gt;any two others. As do you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Alright then. What about Charles McGloin? He's running a panel game off to&lt;br /&gt;one side. Did you know that?&lt;br /&gt;(Bill shrugs)&lt;br /&gt;I can't get a day's work done for all the good citizens pouring in here&lt;br /&gt;complaining about crime and corruption all over the Points. They accuse&lt;br /&gt;Tammany of carelesoness. Some even suspect ... a few practically suggest.&lt;br /&gt;(eying Bill significantly) &lt;br /&gt;... our complicity with this rampant criminality. We must show them&lt;br /&gt;Tammany stands behind the letter of the law. We need to set an example. &lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;(beat)&lt;br /&gt;Charles McGloin will do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;I'll set the trial for Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44 EXT- TOMBS DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CAMERA moves high along the outside wall, past small rectangular slits&lt;br /&gt;that pass for jail windows. EYES peer out, as if a peep show is underway&lt;br /&gt;directly below in the Tombs courtyard. A PRISONER is being readied for the&lt;br /&gt;gallows by having a hood tied to his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The CROWD is in a carnival mood; HOT CORN GIRLS, STREET VENDORS,&lt;br /&gt;"HOKEY-POKEY" (i.e., ice cream) MERCHANTS, even BUSKERS, all add to the&lt;br /&gt;holiday spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny works through the crowd, pushing and smiling her way past groups of&lt;br /&gt;raucous merrymakers. She stops once or twice to have a word with a&lt;br /&gt;GENTLEMAN, flirts for a moment, then moves on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Further back in the crowd, Amsterdam NOTICES her. He watches her go&lt;br /&gt;through the crowd with an admiration that quickly turns to FASCINATION as&lt;br /&gt;he realizes what she's doing: picking pockets. The best bludget in the&lt;br /&gt;Five Points. He starts to FOLLOW her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny has worked her way close to the hanging platform, but she's so&lt;br /&gt;intent on her job she has not noticed Amsterdam. The closer the platform,&lt;br /&gt;the closer the spectacle and richer the pickings: Jenny's concentration is&lt;br /&gt;absolute. On the platform, an ASSISTANT HANGMAN addresses the Crowd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ASSISTANT HANGMAN&lt;br /&gt;Those interested in the effects of the condemned please come forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44 CONTINUED:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of the Crowd PRESSES in toward the platform, temporarily blocking&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam's view of Jenny. He is right against the platform.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ASSISTANT HANGMAN&lt;br /&gt;What am I bid for this coat? A coat of some wear but excellent cut...&lt;br /&gt;containing a rather remarkable pocket silk...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN IN CROWD&lt;br /&gt;Bid a quarter!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HANGMAN&lt;br /&gt;A quarter, thank you. Do I hear fifty cents? Fifty cents?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Hangman is holding up the condemned man's coat which contains the RED&lt;br /&gt;SILK SCARF Amsterdam saw Shang give away. Amsterdam flips the HANGMAN a&lt;br /&gt;quarter, reaches out and GRABS the handkerchief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Here. Just for the silk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stuffs it into his pocket and starts to PUSH his way through the crowd.&lt;br /&gt;On the platform, the WARDEN steps forward holding a primitive megaphone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WARDEN&lt;br /&gt;Do you have any last remarks, Charles McGloin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;McGloin grunts from underneath the hood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MCGLOIN&lt;br /&gt;Not from under this hood I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crowd near the platform begins to CHANT "No hood, no hood, no hood!" The&lt;br /&gt;Warden puts his hand on the hood, starts to remove it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... and the Crowd CHEERS. Amsterdam turns, SEES: Charles McGloin. Bald,&lt;br /&gt;with a deep scar running front to back on his head. The very SAME MAN he&lt;br /&gt;saw in the alley with Shang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;McGloin acknowledges the cheers of the crowd. The Warden holds to&lt;br /&gt;megaphone close and McGloin bellows...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MCGLOIN&lt;br /&gt;I never struck a foul blow or turned a card and may God greet me as a&lt;br /&gt;friend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Crowd ROAR approval at these words. Amsterdam PUSHES through the&lt;br /&gt;crowd, looking for Jenny ... SPOTTING her finally...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... while up on the platform, the NOOSE is placed around McGLOIN's neck,&lt;br /&gt;and he is HOISTED UP in no time. We hear his neck SNAP. His feet kick&lt;br /&gt;after death. The Crowd raises a zighty cheer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45 EXT./INT. BROADWAY AND BROADWAY STAGE DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam walks with a crowd toward a waiting Broadway stage, a vehicle&lt;br /&gt;that looks like a horsedrawn train car. The stage will take spectators&lt;br /&gt;back uptown from the hanging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is working his way toward Jenny, who is now BOARDING the stage.&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam DASHES through the crowd and SQUEEZES onto the stage, which&lt;br /&gt;moves forward with a JOLT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once on board, Amsterdam looks through the jammed car, SEES: Jenny, about&lt;br /&gt;to sit down - A MAN has offered her his seat. She smiles dazzlingly as she&lt;br /&gt;sits...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... and arranges her hands genteelly on her lap. The Man looks down on her&lt;br /&gt;and she smiles up at him again. He is bequiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam manages to get a little closer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN&lt;br /&gt;I hope you won't think me rude if I speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;No, sir. You look a proper Gentleman down to the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As this conversation continues, we watch-not only Jenny and The Man in&lt;br /&gt;conversation, and Amsterdam watching them; but we begin to notice what&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam SEES. Although Jenny's hands apparently remain folded on her&lt;br /&gt;lap, her RIGHT HAND moves SLOWLY out from her wrap... toward The Man...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN&lt;br /&gt;Well, I wouldn't want you to think me forward, you see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... and BRUSHES past his jacket. He does not notice or feel a thing.&lt;br /&gt;Jenny's hand GLIDES past his THIGH ... nearly brushing it ... moving up&lt;br /&gt;across his pelvis and around his buttocks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;Does it matter to you what I think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN&lt;br /&gt;Well, I might like it to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;Oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...toward his pocket. The Man is in Jenny's thrall. He feels nothing and&lt;br /&gt;continues to have no idea what is going on. But Amsterdam KNOWS. Every&lt;br /&gt;silken, surreptitious move of her HAND across The Man's body is like a&lt;br /&gt;CARESS that Amsterdam can feel. Jenny's grace is balletic and EROTIC. As&lt;br /&gt;she picks The Man's pocket, she is, without knowing it, also seducing&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN&lt;br /&gt;I mean, if you would like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;I might like, sir. But I can't say now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her hand HOVERS above his pocket, waiting for the SWAY of the stage to&lt;br /&gt;match and mask her movement....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... and she starts to get up as soon as the stage JOSTLES. The entire car&lt;br /&gt;full of passengers LEANS into one another...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... and Jenny's hand SLIDES the Man's WALLET from his trousers as&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he recovers his balance. Amsterdam watches her withdraw her HAND in a&lt;br /&gt;flash and hide it beneath her wrap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;Because this is my stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN &lt;br /&gt;May I walk with you a little, then? &lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;(firmly)&lt;br /&gt;That would be too bold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN&lt;br /&gt;But I'll never see you again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;I come every Thursday to the Tombs to see my father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN&lt;br /&gt;I'll look for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny fetches him another fine SMILE--it's almost demure--and takes her&lt;br /&gt;way off the rear entrance of the stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lt PULLS AWAY up Broadway and Jenny walks briskly toward an alley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46 EXT. ALLEY/BROADWAY DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny looks to make sure she has the alley to herself, then moves her body&lt;br /&gt;a little...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... and her arms seem to come off. She has been wearing a set of&lt;br /&gt;ARTIFICIAL ARMS, hollow inside, which she can leave folded on her lap&lt;br /&gt;misleadingly while she goes about her pickpocketing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's folding up the appliance--cotton sewn over a soft form-when a VOICE&lt;br /&gt;behind her makes her turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;May I walk with you a little, then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47 EXT. BROADWAY DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Jenny and Amsterdam walk through the noisy bustle of the city's main&lt;br /&gt;thoroughfare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;Are you a spy, then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Got no one to spy for. I'm an appreciator, you might say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;Appreciator of what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;A good touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She STOPS in the street, looks him straight in the eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;Don't bother with the chat. If you want me, we come to a business&lt;br /&gt;arrangement. lf the terms is right, then I decide how you suit me. Then I&lt;br /&gt;do it or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Just take a minute, I was Just...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY &lt;br /&gt;I know what you was just. I had years already of what you was just. You&lt;br /&gt;know how I got so good at thieving? So's I wouldn't have to lay down for&lt;br /&gt;everyone who had the ned. Now I do it when I want to for how much I want&lt;br /&gt;to. Otherwise I don't do it, and don't have to do it, and to hell with&lt;br /&gt;anyone's rules but my own. &lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;What about Shang's rules? You pay a lot over to him. The better your day,&lt;br /&gt;the better his. It don't seem gute right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;(a little curious now)&lt;br /&gt;What's it to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Give him this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He hands her the RED SILK SCARF. She recognizes it instantly as the same&lt;br /&gt;one she gave Shang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you can keep a little more of what you earned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;How'd you come by this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;I got my own touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;Are you making me a present, or making an Arrangement?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;It's your rules, right? So you decide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looks at him for a moment, then starts to TIE the scarf around her&lt;br /&gt;neck like a kerchief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48 INT. HIDEOUT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A gentlemen's WALLET skims across a pitted wooden table, straight into&lt;br /&gt;Shang's hand. Jenny is giving him her CUT. He opens the wallet, looks up&lt;br /&gt;at Jenny. No more goods are forthcoming. Amsterdam, hanging back, watches&lt;br /&gt;them both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shang SEES the RED SILK SCARF, tied around her neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;Pretty slim cut for a hanging day. Where'd you get that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;From Amsterdam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;(beat)&lt;br /&gt;It don't suit you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49 EXT. STREET AND PARADISE SQUARE NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A SWELTERING evening. The streets are jammed with REVELERS and RESIDENTS.&lt;br /&gt;Some people sleep in doorways in futile search for fresh air. Happy Jack&lt;br /&gt;Mulraney leads a group of apprehensive UPTOWN CITIZENS past drunks and&lt;br /&gt;whores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JACK&lt;br /&gt;Commissioner Brunt said to spare you nothing concerning conditions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CITIZEN&lt;br /&gt;Nothing but our safety, of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JACK&lt;br /&gt;All's snug around Paradise Square in my company, squire. See there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gestures toward the street, down which one oi Mr. Barnett Baff's CARTS&lt;br /&gt;is being drawn by a team of WHEEZING NAGS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cart bears massive barrels of what a colorful banner advertises as "an&lt;br /&gt;anti-pestilence influenza-thwarting solution... a service of Tammany&lt;br /&gt;Hall." As the wagon draws abreast of a large group of languishing&lt;br /&gt;RESIDENTS, HOSES spurt waves of solution all over the streets. Many people&lt;br /&gt;are SOAKED. Jack and his Citizens jump back just in time.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JACK&lt;br /&gt;Tammany makes the streets nanitary, I make 'am safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOMAN CITIZEN&lt;br /&gt;(apprehensive)&lt;br /&gt;Even against them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A small distance behind the anti-plague cart, moving in rough formation,&lt;br /&gt;come some of Shang's mob, heading aimlessly across the Square cruising for&lt;br /&gt;action&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JACK&lt;br /&gt;Against them especially. Let me demonstrate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack takes out his GOLD WATCH AND CHAIN, which he HANGS carefully over a&lt;br /&gt;nearby lamppost. Then, very casually, he leads the Citizens off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JACK&lt;br /&gt;We'll be back for this at our leisure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOMAN CITIZEN&lt;br /&gt;You dare leave it here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JACK&lt;br /&gt;Safe as a vault, lady. Since all knows it's mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Gang draws abreast of the lamppost. No one makes a move to take the&lt;br /&gt;watch until one of the YOUNGEST BOYS reaches out ... but&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shang knocks his hand away. Jack, at a distance, NODS approvingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;You know that's Jack's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOY&lt;br /&gt;So what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM &lt;br /&gt;It should be hangin' off Jack's vest, then. Not here, like some war flag. &lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;That watch is a small price for free run of the Points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;If it's free, how come we pay so much? Wo shouldn't pay for what's our due.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;We don't tight when we don't have to. It's not warring that counts. It's&lt;br /&gt;the living day to day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;(smiles)&lt;br /&gt;Is that right? Did I hear that correct? John, did we hear that correct?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eyes now on Johnny. Jenny looks at him with great interest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHN&lt;br /&gt;(uneasy pause)&lt;br /&gt;We heard the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;So then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He reaches for the watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50 EXT. STREET AND PARADISE SQUARE NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Jack stands at the lamppost, aghast. A WOMAN lowers her head and&lt;br /&gt;retches. Jackls watch and chain are still in place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the watch has been SMASHED. And hanging from the chain is a BLACK CAT,&lt;br /&gt;skinned and strangled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;51 INT- HIDEOUT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Jack stands with his Citizens. The room QUIETS as, one by one, the&lt;br /&gt;mob notices him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JACK&lt;br /&gt;You!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He GRABS the Young Boy who had reached for his watch on the lamppost and&lt;br /&gt;starts to BEAT him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JACK&lt;br /&gt;What'd you do to my watch, you dirty little bastard...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack breaks the Boy's hand with his nightstick. The Boy SCREAMS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and FAINTS. So does one of the Women in the group. Jack takes the Boy's&lt;br /&gt;other hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JACK&lt;br /&gt;Hands won't be so quick in future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG &lt;br /&gt;That's enough sport this evening, Jack. &lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;(stepping forward)&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All turn to look at Johnny. Jack drops the Boy's hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;I have word for you from who did it. You're to meet him at Sparrow's&lt;br /&gt;Chinese Pagoda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52 INT. SPAPROW'S CHINESE PAGODA NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A low and lunatic place: a combination of an opium dream out of the&lt;br /&gt;Arabian Nights and a panel from a Bosch triptych. FAN-TAN games played by&lt;br /&gt;Orientals; WOMEN and CHILDREN of various colors suspended in cages from&lt;br /&gt;the ceiling as MEN and WOMEN in a secondfloor GALLERY point at them and&lt;br /&gt;JOKE. On the main floor, a long line waits for a shot at the barrel of&lt;br /&gt;All-Sorts. Jack charges in the front door, looks around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JACK&lt;br /&gt;All right, step out, you yellow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the NOISE subsides. Only the Fan-Tan game continues;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nothing is so interesting that these Orientals will stop gambling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Amsterdam STEPS right in front of him. It's a grandstand play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Hello, Happy Jack. I'm the one you're looking for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JACK&lt;br /&gt;Then you're marked for dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack lunges ahead, swinging his NIGHT STICK. Amsterdam throws a chair&lt;br /&gt;across his path. Jack stumbles, goes down, dropping his night stick.&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam grabs it, jumps on top of him, HITS him twice on the side of the&lt;br /&gt;head. There is a CRACKING SOUND. The PATRONS of the Pagoda gather round.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;53 INT. SPARROW'S CHINESE PAGODA NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later. Festive again. And no sign of Amsterdam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two PATRONS step away from the all-sorts barrel. Hanging from the spigot&lt;br /&gt;like the cat from the watch chain is the BODY of Happy Jack Mulraney. The&lt;br /&gt;belt has been removed from his trousers, tied like a NOOSE around his&lt;br /&gt;throat, then looped over the spigot. His TEETH lie scattered on the floor&lt;br /&gt;around him. His NIGHT STICK has been jammed down his throat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;54 EXT. DOCKS/HIDEOUT NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam holds the FANCY COAT from Jack's uniform over his arm.&lt;br /&gt;Carefully, he DRAPES the coat over Jenny's shoulders. SHANG steps forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;I gave no order for this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam says nothing at first, just holds his hand out: he's holding the&lt;br /&gt;RED SILK SCKRF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;(very quietly) &lt;br /&gt;Never mind giving orders. What were you giving this for? &lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;I'm calling you out, Amsterdam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;I got this at the hanging. It was Charles McGloin's. Everybody here saw&lt;br /&gt;you take it from Jenny. What was MCGloin doing with it? What'd you give it&lt;br /&gt;to him for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;I didn't give it to him. Why would I give it to him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;I gaw you give it to him. Last week, behind the Old Brewery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;(to group)&lt;br /&gt;He's gone flat. I got no reason to trade with the Native Americans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;What about stepping up in the world, as it were, and leaving the rest of&lt;br /&gt;us behind. There's a reason. Making a separate arrangement for yourself&lt;br /&gt;with the one Native so stupid and luckless that he got hung. That's you to&lt;br /&gt;the ground, Shang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;(very edgy now; to group)&lt;br /&gt;Who believes what he's saying? Can any of you believe what he's saying?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Bene. We'll see. Any of you that believes I did proper by Happy Jack&lt;br /&gt;Mulraney tonight, stand beside me. Any of you that still likes Shang's way&lt;br /&gt;with the cops, and Shang's way with the Natives, go to him.&lt;br /&gt;(to Shang)&lt;br /&gt;Or should we settle right now, you and me, and just see which of us is&lt;br /&gt;left standing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHANG&lt;br /&gt;Let see where they stand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny rises, stands next to Amsterdam. Jimmy Spoils, Johnny, Sheeny Mike&lt;br /&gt;are next. Now the other members of the mob move in clusters to all STAND&lt;br /&gt;with Amsterdam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;What's your pleasure, Shang?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the YOUNG BOYS has a dead rat blackjack hanging from his belt.&lt;br /&gt;Shang grabs it. He BITES the head oft the rat and spits it across at&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam. Amsterdam almost smiles at him. Shang sneers, drops the body of&lt;br /&gt;the rat, and LEAVES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;This mob ever have a proper name?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;We was called after Shang when we was named at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;We're the Dead Rabbits from now. They were the best. They were history.&lt;br /&gt;They were legend, and we'll live up to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;55 EXT. DOCKS/WATERFRONT NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam sits on an empty pier, watching the ships in the river. There's&lt;br /&gt;a SUDDEN RUSTLING NOISE as a NOOSE coils around his neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Jenny. She's slipped the SILK Amsterdam gave her close to his throat,&lt;br /&gt;and she's TIGHTENING it. Amsterdam starts to resist. Then he sees how's&lt;br /&gt;she's looking at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She uses the silk to bring his face closer to hers. She KISSES him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;What's this then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;Payment for the silk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then DROPS the silk from his throat and starts to touch him. Then his&lt;br /&gt;hands are under her skirt. Then, under the cloudy moonlight, they start to&lt;br /&gt;make love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;56 EXT. DOCKS/WATERFRONT NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later. Amsterdam pulls Happy Jack's uniform COAT over Jenny to keep her&lt;br /&gt;warm in the chill air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;You were waiting for me out here, weren't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I was, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;You was that sure of me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Sure enough to wait, anyway. Waiting don't cost nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;It don't do to be sure. I could go away just as easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sweeps the coat away from her body, allowing her to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;I'll say when I want to, not you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Stay then.&lt;br /&gt;(beat; smile)&lt;br /&gt;One way or another, I get what I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;(looking at him)&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. If it was just a shag you wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;You're a gypsy, are you, come to tell my fortune? Go ahead then. Tell me&lt;br /&gt;what I'm wanting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;You got blood in your eye for someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;It's just I can't look away, that's all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;Who from?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Bill Poole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;You better get someone else in your sights. No one's ever taken him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;'Cause he's mine, that's why. I'll take his one eye, and then the rest of&lt;br /&gt;him, piece by small piece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;You have a plan for this? You going to raise a militia? I'll wager Bill&lt;br /&gt;the Butcher don't even know about you or care if he does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;He'll know about me soon enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;And after the Butcher?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;Is that so?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;You'll be in love with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;Love you? You just had me. You can have a mort any time you want. So why&lt;br /&gt;look for more than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;That's taking love, not giving it. I want it to be just you and me, no one&lt;br /&gt;else for either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;'Cause none of us means nothing in life except one to the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;I don't know I want to mean something, to you or anybody. Can there be&lt;br /&gt;good in that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stares at her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;We'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny pulls the coat tighter around her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;It'll take a while if we do. If we ever do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;And what about the meantime?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;Meantime's business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;57 EXT PARADISE SQUARE DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A CROWD gathers in one of the main thoroughfares bisecting the 5 Points. A&lt;br /&gt;beefy SPEAKER is making an anti-Irish speech on behalf of James W. Barker,&lt;br /&gt;a mayoral candidate supported by Tammany's current rivals, the&lt;br /&gt;Know-Nothing Party. Hand-painted signs are everywhere, bearing Barker's&lt;br /&gt;unsavory likeness. A couple of BUSKERS provide a musical score for the&lt;br /&gt;political spiel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SPEAKER&lt;br /&gt;The potato is a thick vegetable. Heavy. Meaty. Comes out of the ground&lt;br /&gt;dirty and stays that way unless you scrub it and boil it to death!&lt;br /&gt;(cheers and laughs from crowd)&lt;br /&gt;We don't want to keep lem out of the country! We'll even give 'em a place&lt;br /&gt;at our table! But we ain't gonna vote 'em into office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much CHEERING and jovial approval from the Crowd. On its fringes,&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam and the Dead Rabbits make their way roughly across the Square.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHEENY MIKE&lt;br /&gt;Any Irish hears that will be out for blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;The Irish is too busy building up Tammany. That's where their brains and&lt;br /&gt;muscle goes. Once they're inside with their cronies, they turn on their&lt;br /&gt;own outside. Tammany'd steal the air and rent the daylight if they could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHEENY MIKE&lt;br /&gt;We'd do the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDkM&lt;br /&gt;Not against our own we wouldn't. That's the difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;Tammany earns better. That's the difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;I ain't seen their ned yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnny stops walking, betraying slight annoyance that he has to explain&lt;br /&gt;the day's deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;You will at day's end, that's our arrangement. A quarter a voter, whether&lt;br /&gt;they're repeaters or not. I'm telling you, we got a square deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHEENY MIKE&lt;br /&gt;It's sound, Amsterdam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Yeah? Well, it's ned anyway. Just make sure you count it when we get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;It's just a day's job, we don't have to make it a life's work. We work for&lt;br /&gt;Tammany today and kill them tomorrow, if that's our pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JIMMY SPOILS&lt;br /&gt;So we're politicians just for today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Not for a minute. We're better than that. We're thieves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;58 MONTAGE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Dead Rabbits go about the business of rounding up Tammany voters. They&lt;br /&gt;pick up DRUNKS in alleys; Jenny and some of the Dead Rabbit MORTS raust&lt;br /&gt;PATRONS in a whore house; Rabbits shanghai SAILORS from saloons; corral&lt;br /&gt;CITIZENS as they walk along the street, either wheedling or bullying to&lt;br /&gt;get them to vote. It's the strong arm of democracy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;59 EXT. POLLING PLACE DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On one side of the door, some Dead Rabbits, with a RABBLE of potential&lt;br /&gt;voters; on the other, POLICE doing their best. Behind and all around,&lt;br /&gt;various WARD HEELERS and SMALL-TIME POLITICIANS, representing both the&lt;br /&gt;Know-Nothing candidate Barker and Tammany's Fernando Wood. Varicus&lt;br /&gt;factions push and pull at one another as they wedge their VOTERS into the&lt;br /&gt;polls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JIMMY SPOILS &lt;br /&gt;He's got the right to vote, damn you! &lt;br /&gt;COP&lt;br /&gt;Not four times he don't.&lt;br /&gt;(shoves a Voter)&lt;br /&gt;There'll be no damned repeaters here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Cop and Jimmy play tug-of-war with a besotted VOTER, while other gang&lt;br /&gt;members rush to GRAB VOTERS leaving the polls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PANDEMONIUM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;60 INT. TAMMANY HALL DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main floor is jammed with CLUBMEN and PARTY RACKS. Daniel Killoran&lt;br /&gt;bustles from group to group, making promises, taking notes and searching&lt;br /&gt;out Boss Tweed, who is holding court in a far corner, surrounded by&lt;br /&gt;JOURNALISTS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOSS TWEED&lt;br /&gt;I would never speak ill of a rival. I would never say that every&lt;br /&gt;Know-Nothing is a horse thief. It is my observation, however, that every&lt;br /&gt;horse thief is a Know-Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good-natured LAUGHING all around. Even TWEED seems amused. Killoran&lt;br /&gt;catches the Boss' eye and whispers to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILLORAN&lt;br /&gt;The Know-Nothings are already finished, and there's four more hours at the&lt;br /&gt;polls yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOSS TWEED&lt;br /&gt;Keep our men voting. Everybody works today. It's not a victory we need,&lt;br /&gt;Daniel. I want a triumph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;61 INT. DON WHISKERANDOSO BARBER SHOP DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam roughly deposits REPEAT VOTERS in the barber chairs, as the&lt;br /&gt;BARBERS work FRANTICALLY to cut their hair, prune beards, and otherwise&lt;br /&gt;alter appearances. As soon as one customer is done, Sheeny Mike douses him&lt;br /&gt;with bay rum and pushes another REPEATER down in his place. Johnny keeps&lt;br /&gt;count of the turnover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DON WHISKERANDOS (BARBER)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that's eight... and how many still to come ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looks toward the door, where more Repeaters are lined up, waiting their&lt;br /&gt;turn under close supervision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REPEATER&lt;br /&gt;I already voted once today. Cast for Tammany, by God, and Fernando Wood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Once? Come here and do your duty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam GRABS him and SLAMS him down in a chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;62 INT. FAN-TAN PARLOR DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam and some RABBITS BURST into the front door, frightening and&lt;br /&gt;scattering all the Chinese GAMBLERS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;(barking orders)&lt;br /&gt;Line up like soldiers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHEENY MIKE&lt;br /&gt;They got no notion what you're talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;(To Johnny)&lt;br /&gt;You explain their democratic right. Illl see they unterstand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam GRABS the nearest two CHINESE by their PIGTAILS and&lt;br /&gt;HURLS them against the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;63 INT. OPIUM DEN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam and the Rabbits PROWL the murky darkness where OPIUM EATERS lie&lt;br /&gt;in bunks stacked high against the walls. The Rabbits start ROUSING and&lt;br /&gt;rounding up the Opium Eaters. Jimmy Spoils SLINGS a couple over his&lt;br /&gt;shoulder like flour sacks. Amsterdam SHOVES two more out the door, past an&lt;br /&gt;admiring Daniel Killoran.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILLORAN&lt;br /&gt;(to Johnny)&lt;br /&gt;I come to see if our counts square. You boys have made a remarkable&lt;br /&gt;showing....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Who the hell's this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;He's our Tammany man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Killoran compares his figures to the piece of paper where Johnny has been&lt;br /&gt;keeping his own count.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILLORAN&lt;br /&gt;... remarkable...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;(With an edge)&lt;br /&gt;Our own Tammany man. We are coming along. Happy to meet any friend of&lt;br /&gt;Johnny Siroccols.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILLORAN&lt;br /&gt;Likewise. Pleasure to meet the best but one in the whole Five Points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Best but one? Who's better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Killoran looks up. Johnny, standing behind Amsterdam, SHAKES his head "NO"&lt;br /&gt;VIGOROUSLY. Killoran gets the message.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILLORAN&lt;br /&gt;(smooth)&lt;br /&gt;Maybe nobody. But when the count's done the numbers will tell who's come&lt;br /&gt;out in front.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;I'm in no race. Just pay us what you owe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILLORAN&lt;br /&gt;Tonight. At the victory celebration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;64 INT. SPARROW'S CHINESE PAGODA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Tammany victory celebration. When we last saw this place--as Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;confronted Happy Jack--the place was busy, alive. It's RIOTOUS now, jammed&lt;br /&gt;to bursting with POLITICIANS, CRIMINALS, GANG MEMBERS, MORTS, WHORES,&lt;br /&gt;HANGERS-ON, UPTOWN THRILL-SEEKERS, JOURNALISTS and COPS, not all of them&lt;br /&gt;off duty. The SOUND of the place is a cacophony of SHOUTING, SINGING,&lt;br /&gt;GAMBLING and STRANGE MUSIC--which we can't identify at first. We START&lt;br /&gt;CLOSE on a huge ruby ring and we HEAR...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOSS TWEED&lt;br /&gt;(V.O.)&lt;br /&gt;Read what it says there, alongside the ruby...read it out ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... and WE MOVE OUT as a WELL-WISHER reads the Latin inscription.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;64 CONTINUED:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WELL-WISHER&lt;br /&gt;"Fortuna Juvat Ordentes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED&lt;br /&gt;A grand victory gift from the men of Tammany. Now, tell 'em what it means,&lt;br /&gt;Mayor Wood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOOD&lt;br /&gt;"Fortune favors the bold."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWEED gives him a resounding slap on the back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOSS TWEED&lt;br /&gt;What do you think? Would that make a fit motto for our fair City?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOOD&lt;br /&gt;Well, I could certainly see ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILLORAN&lt;br /&gt;(interrupting)&lt;br /&gt;We've got a motto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOSS TWEED&lt;br /&gt;what is it?&lt;br /&gt;(no one knows)&lt;br /&gt;Well, hell, let's get one we can remember. We're going to build a new City&lt;br /&gt;hall, we better have something to put over the front door. And Mayor,&lt;br /&gt;you'll make sure the Latin's right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Wood nods his assent, CAMERA MOVES across room...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... past the gilded CAGES suspended ten feet over the floor, where the&lt;br /&gt;women and children look down at the action just below them with a mixture&lt;br /&gt;of trepidation and resignation. Occasionally a REVELER will jump up to try&lt;br /&gt;and GRAB one of the caged inhabitants. Still MOVING, CAMERA...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... passes a stage, where we finally SEE the source of all the strange&lt;br /&gt;MUSIC we've been hearing: the music is provided by&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHINESE MUSICIANS, a woman SINGER, a DANCER and some ACROBATS. They&lt;br /&gt;perform some weird, mangled Five Points version of Chinese opera. The&lt;br /&gt;music and performance continues as we MOVE PAST...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... across a PEWTER FAN-TAN TABLE, where CHINESE GAMBLERS play with fierce&lt;br /&gt;animation and concentration. By comparison, the Occidental types playing&lt;br /&gt;beside them seem like tourists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone SHOUTS and SCRAMBLES to place bets with the FAN-TAN DEALER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Above the Dealer is an oval opening in the ceiling, through which OTHER&lt;br /&gt;PLAYERS may watch the action below. These FAN-TAN PLAYERS lean over an&lt;br /&gt;elegantly carved rail, peering at the action on the table below, placing&lt;br /&gt;their bets and collecting their winnings by means of a BASKET attached to&lt;br /&gt;WIRES that whirrs constantly overhead. We continue to MOVE PAST...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... until we are at the door of the place, where Amsterdam, Johnny and the&lt;br /&gt;Rabbits are having words with a BOUNCER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOUNCER&lt;br /&gt;I don't know you, you don't enter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;(enjoying himself)&lt;br /&gt;Come on, what are you saying? If you don't know us now, you'll know us&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow and you'll be working for us next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;(more temperate)&lt;br /&gt;Daniel Killoran knows us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOUNCER&lt;br /&gt;Oh he does?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;We work for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;The hell we do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;(to Amsterdam)&lt;br /&gt;Tampen down, will you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOUNCER&lt;br /&gt;Why don't you all get the hell out of here and go fix on a story? Go on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He SHOVES Johnny, who STUMBLES back into Amsterdam. They're both mad now,&lt;br /&gt;and they step forward together toward the Bouncer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... until Killoran intervenes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILLORAN&lt;br /&gt;(to Bouncer)&lt;br /&gt;It's all right, Nat. They're saying the truth. They gave a good day's work&lt;br /&gt;for a good wage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Killoran HANDS OVER a paper-wrapped parcel of money, which Amsterdam takes&lt;br /&gt;firmly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILLORAN&lt;br /&gt;A fine first showing. But second best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Second, eh? You don't say so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILLORAN&lt;br /&gt;It's no shame to be bested by veterans. The Native Americans always sweep&lt;br /&gt;the field.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILLORAN&lt;br /&gt;We count on them sure as mass comes an Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;(to Johnny, glaring)&lt;br /&gt;Did you know this? Is this some scheme of yours?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;No, I didn't have no idea ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;I was working the same side as the Natives? The Natives?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILLORAN&lt;br /&gt;That's only right. Bill the Butcher's our ambassador throughout the&lt;br /&gt;Points, as you might say. It's deemed an honor to work with him. Everyone&lt;br /&gt;knows Bill Poole, everyone fears him, everyone ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;I sure as hell don't fear him. And I sure as hell won't stand with him, or&lt;br /&gt;any who calls him one of theirs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILLORAN&lt;br /&gt;Well, if it's matter of personal honor, the money can only be a further&lt;br /&gt;insult. I have no wish to rile you further, so if you'll allow me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He REACHES to take back the parcel of money, but Amsterdam BATS his hand&lt;br /&gt;away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Where is he? Where's Bill the Butcher?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KILLORAN&lt;br /&gt;Listen, buck. This is a Tammany night. If you and Bill Poole have matters&lt;br /&gt;to settle, you can do it any other time, any other place, I don't give a&lt;br /&gt;good dancing goddamn. But you do it here tonight and all the Five Points&lt;br /&gt;will be down on you like the righteous wrath of heaven. or you could, as&lt;br /&gt;the Book says, put away childish things. Join the celebration. Personally,&lt;br /&gt;I always find the least strenuous solution the most appealing. Don't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam stares at him as we...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;65 INT. SPARROW'S CHINESE PAGODA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a CHINESE ACROBAT TWIRLS in the air, off the stage, and lands in the&lt;br /&gt;middle of the audience. The crowd is raucously appreciative as the Acrobat&lt;br /&gt;does GYMNASTIC MOVES among them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... past a table where the Dead Rabbits have settled. it is later in the&lt;br /&gt;evening, and everyone has been drinking.&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam, sullen, intense, WATCHES ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..Bill the Butcher, across the room. He is like a prince regent. Everyone&lt;br /&gt;pays him court, including several uniformed COPS, TAMMANY HANGERS-ON, and&lt;br /&gt;NEWSPAPERMEN. Bill receives the attention as his due....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... while Amsterdam keeps watching, contempt and hatred gleaming in his&lt;br /&gt;eye. He pays attention to none of the gang around, including Jenny. Johnny&lt;br /&gt;takes advantage of the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;I got experience. It's the education I lack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;And you heard I was a good teacher?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;I don't listen to talk, I figure for myself. And I figured you'd be good&lt;br /&gt;at everything you did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;That's right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;And tonight I got the ned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;And now what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm ready for you. Unless there's an arrangement between you and&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;(glancing over at Amsterdam)&lt;br /&gt;Not to my thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;(needs to be sure)&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam... listen up, Amsterdam...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam glances over at them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;(to Johnny)&lt;br /&gt;You going with me or him? It's my thinking matters here. You don't have to&lt;br /&gt;ask him nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;(makes his decision)&lt;br /&gt;How's the evening passing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Fine. Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt;(puts his arm around Jenny)&lt;br /&gt;'Cause it's treating me fine too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She gets up and starts toward the stairs to the second floor, Johnny&lt;br /&gt;following her, holding her hand. As they pass Amsterdam he LEANS toward&lt;br /&gt;Jenny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;This is no game, you and me. Don't go on like it's a game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JENNY&lt;br /&gt;I said already, it's not a game. It's business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnny pulls her away. As he watches her go through the crowd, Amsterdam's&lt;br /&gt;gaze falls on Bill the Butcher again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... and for the first tine their EYES MEET. Bill's eyes rest on Amsterdam,&lt;br /&gt;take him all in... but DON'T REMEMBER him. He looks away as a TAMMANY HACK&lt;br /&gt;steps up to pay court....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.... and a MASTER OF REVELS, center-floor, SHOUTS ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MASTER OF REVELS&lt;br /&gt;Gentlemen and gentlewomen, if you please ... we will now... raise the&lt;br /&gt;cages and start the bidding!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Crowd CHEERS and KIDS PULL on a series of ropes and pulleys to RAISE&lt;br /&gt;the CAGES further above the floor until they are parallel with the&lt;br /&gt;second-floor gallery of the Pagoda. WOMEN AND MEN call out BIDS even as&lt;br /&gt;the cages rise through the air. Depending on their age, the Women and&lt;br /&gt;children inside the cages respond to the auction with grim resignation,&lt;br /&gt;trepidation or fear. A few, drugged or drunk on all-sorts, lie insensible&lt;br /&gt;in their impossibly cramped space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnny and Jenny make their way along the second floor gallery until she&lt;br /&gt;spots a COUPLE LEAVING a room and walks inside. Johnny CLOSES the door&lt;br /&gt;behind them as a BURST of APPLAUSE...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... rises from the main floor, where Bill the Butcher stands in the dead&lt;br /&gt;center of the room. He slowly removes his coat and hands it to a FLUNKY.&lt;br /&gt;He is wearing his battle vest underneath, and it is fully rigged with all&lt;br /&gt;his butcher's implements.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The place QUIETS. KIDS swarm silently, like busy ants, all over a huge&lt;br /&gt;wooden CHANDELIER, LIGHTING its HUNDREDS of CANDLES. Only the noise from&lt;br /&gt;the Chinese playing fan-tan in the far corner of the room can be heard now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Kids finish lighting the candles and the chandelier is RAISED toward&lt;br /&gt;the Pagoda ceiling, casting the whole place into a new riot of LIGHT and&lt;br /&gt;SHADOW as The Butcher prepares himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the Chinese Opera DANCER steps forward and stands near Bill. He NODS.&lt;br /&gt;The unsprung MUSIC begins. The DANCER starts to move, sinuously...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and Bill, with amazing skill, starts THROWING his KNIVES. The knife&lt;br /&gt;MISSES the Dancer by a hairsbreadth, landing in the floor near her foot.&lt;br /&gt;She doesn't flinch. She keeps dancing. And Bill keeps THROWING...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... the KNIVES, which follow the Dancer around the room in a careful,&lt;br /&gt;deadly choreography. They land just inches from where she has just been,&lt;br /&gt;or will be: in a wall; a pillar; the apron of the small stage; the bar;&lt;br /&gt;the barrel of all-sorts. After each knife LANDS, kids retrieve it. When&lt;br /&gt;one of the KNIFE KIDS pulls the blade from the all-sorts barrel, DRUNKS&lt;br /&gt;knock each other over to drink from the stream that flows from the hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Native Americans, meanwhile, WORK THROUGH the awed, attentive Crowd. They&lt;br /&gt;AVOID Cops, Tammany Members and anyone who looks too prosperous or too&lt;br /&gt;sober. But when one of the Natives SPOTS a MARGINAL CITIZEN, they GRAB his&lt;br /&gt;hand and examine it as if they were telling fortunes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Center floor, Bill pulls TWO KNIVES out, BALANCES one in each hand ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... as a WHORE in the crowd pushes a guy who's groping her toward a couple&lt;br /&gt;of Natives. Hels wearing a large RING. As soon as the Natives SEE the ring&lt;br /&gt;they throw their arms around the GROPER like a long-lost pal and escort&lt;br /&gt;him to Bill ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... who THROWS both knives rapidly at the Dancer. They land on the floor,&lt;br /&gt;inches from her dancing feet. She SPINS AWAY to great applause as the&lt;br /&gt;Natives bring the Groper to Bill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;Evening, sir. Are you prepared to be celebrated? Are you ready to be&lt;br /&gt;famous?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GROPER&lt;br /&gt;How much will it cost?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;Just a moment of your time. My men will assist you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They do quite a bit more than that: they GRAB the Groper and KNOCK him to&lt;br /&gt;the floor. In the crowd, one SPECTATOR turns to his companion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PAGODA SPECTATOR&lt;br /&gt;Watch this careful. I've never seen the like, not even in Barnum's Museum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Groper CRIES OUT as the Natives PIN HIM to the floor, SPREADEAGLED.&lt;br /&gt;Bill has one weapon left... in a special pocket, inside his vest. It's his&lt;br /&gt;CLEAVER. He takes it out slowly, SAVORING the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Pagoda goes QUIET. Only the gambling continues. The MUSIC dies. The&lt;br /&gt;only SOUND beside the noises of the Chinese at their fan-tan is the&lt;br /&gt;Groper, who HOLLERS for help as soon as he sees the cleaver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill HEFTS the cleaver in his hand, feels its weight, calculates timing,&lt;br /&gt;figures distance .... and starts THROWING it in the air...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... CATCHING it by the handle ... then throwing it again... higher, FASTER&lt;br /&gt;and HARDER with every toss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;(in full control)&lt;br /&gt;What's it so quiet for? I don't need quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Chinese opera MUSIC commences with a dissonant CRASH...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... and Bill catches the cleaver again. But EVERY TIME he throws it and&lt;br /&gt;every time he catches it by its handle ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... he also MOVES CLOSER to the terrified Groper. Now... standing&lt;br /&gt;very close... he gives the cleaver a mighty toss ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... sending it SPINNING high in the air... up past the cages ... past the&lt;br /&gt;second-floor gallery, jammed with appreciative spectators ... until it&lt;br /&gt;SLOWS ... seems to HANG in the air... then starts its descent...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... FALLING FASTER... towards Bill's waiting, STEADY HAND.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Groper SCREAMS in fear. Bill SMILES confidently, holding his hand out&lt;br /&gt;until ... just as smoothly, just as confidently...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... he PULLS his hand AWAY and the cleaver FALLS with terrific impact on&lt;br /&gt;the SPLAYED HAND of the Groper, cleanly SEVERING it at the wrist. The&lt;br /&gt;Groper FAINTS dead away as a TREMENDOUS CHEER greets Bill's amazing feat.&lt;br /&gt;One of the Natives TOSSES Bill the severed hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill SLIDES the ring off the finger and TOSSES it to the Chinese Dancer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;There's for your beauty and your song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Dancer puts the ring on her finger and DANCES OFF. Bill TOSSES the&lt;br /&gt;hand to the floor and walks back to his table. The Crowd PARTS, murmuring&lt;br /&gt;compliments on his dexterity, and the Knife Kids reverently RETURN the&lt;br /&gt;Butcher's implements.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now two DOGS from the rat pit in the back room RUN through the crowd and&lt;br /&gt;FIGHT FRENZIEDLY over possession of the bloody hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Crowd PASSES the Groper overhead and WE SEE from ABOVE: the Groper's&lt;br /&gt;unconscicus BODY being passed from hand to hand. The Crowd looks like a&lt;br /&gt;wave bearing the body toward the door. The Groper's stump BLEEDS on them&lt;br /&gt;as he passes overhead, sprinkling drops of blood and flesh like a moveable&lt;br /&gt;sacrament.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill approaches his table, acknowledging the continuing adulation, and is&lt;br /&gt;about to sit down when a VOICE rises above all others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Poole!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill turns, searching out the voice ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Bill Poole!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And SEES Amsterdam, standing at his own table. His attitude is calm,&lt;br /&gt;smiling, respectful. But his eyes are demonic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;My compliments on your exhibition, sir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, sir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;It was like watching a dance.&lt;br /&gt;(Bill nods his thanks)&lt;br /&gt;Some great grand goddamned dance. (Bill looks at him more closely)&lt;br /&gt;You know me, sir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;Do I? Are you missing a finger?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Appreciative laughter from the crowd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;No. A father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The laughter turns a little uneasy. Bill the Butcher sizes up the younger&lt;br /&gt;man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;Do you have a name?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMSTERDAM&lt;br /&gt;Amsterdam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL THE BUTCHER&lt;br /&gt;That's a New York name.&lt;br /&gt;(suddenly smiles)&lt;br /&gt;shall we drink to it?&lt;br
