Monthly Archives: September 2013
Milton Waddams: And I said, I. . .I don’t care if they lay me off either, because I told, I told Bill that if they move my desk one more time, then, then I’m, I’m quitting, I’m going to quit. And, and I told Don too, because they’ve moved my desk four times already this year, and I used to be over by the window, and I could see the squirrels, and they were married, but then, they switched from the Swingline to the Boston stapler, but I kept my Swingline stapler because it didn’t bind up as much, and I kept the staples for the Swingline stapler and–
Peter Gibbons: Okay, Milton.
Milton Waddams: Oh, no, it’s not okay because if they, if they take my, my stapler, then I’ll, I’ll have to. . .I’ll set the building on fire.
Peter Gibbons: Okay, that sounds great. I’ll talk to you later, alright? Bye.
Dr. Weir: The ship brought me back. I told you she won’t let me leave – she won’t let anyone leave. Did you really think you could destroy this ship? She’s defied space and time. She’s been to a place you couldn’t possibly imagine. And now… it is time to go back.
Miller: I know. To hell.
Dr. Weir: You know nothing. Hell is only a word. The reality is much, much worse.
Mackenzie Siler: So who’s the lucky rebound skank?
Zach Siler: Rebound skank ?
Mackenzie Siler: Well, there’s gotta be somebody, right ?
Zach Siler: I wouldn’t say somebody. But there is sort of a project.
Mackenzie Siler: Project ?
Zach Siler: Yeah. To tell you the truth, she kind of, uh– she kind of blew me off.
Mackenzie Siler: I like her already.
Zach Siler: Well, the only thing I can figure is it’s gotta be some kind of mistake.
Mackenzie Siler: Zach, I realize it’s a difficult concept for a bitch magnet such as yourself to grasp, but did it ever occur to you to make a little effort ?
Zach Siler: What do you mean ?
Mackenzie Siler: Find out where she hangs out. Find out what she likes.
Anton Ego: In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the *new*. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new: an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau’s famous motto, “Anyone can cook.” But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist *can* come from *anywhere*. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau’s, who is, in this critic’s opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau’s soon, hungry for more.