1957 was a big year. The Russians put that Sputnik into outer space, the Dodgers played their last game at Ebbets Field to say goodbye to Brooklyn, that guy shot Frank Costello in the head, and missed, and the Gallo brothers whacked Albert Anastasia in the barber shop of the Sheraton View hotel. It was total chaos. With Anastasia out of the way, Vito Genovese figures he's the big boss. But Carlo Gambino and Joe Bananas, they had other ideas. So they called a meeting. A big meeting.
This is the Earth, at a time when the dinosaurs roamed a lush and fertile planet. A piece of rock just 6 miles wide changed all that. It hit with the force of 10,000 nuclear weapons. A trillion tons of dirt and rock hurtled into the atmosphere, creating a suffocating blanket of dust the sun was powerless to penetrate for a thousand years. It happened before. It will happen again. It's just a question of when.
Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young prince lived in a shining castle. Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish, and unkind. But then, one winter's night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. ... As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?
Way out west there was this fella... fella I wanna tell ya about. Fella by the name of __________. At least that was the handle his loving parents gave him, but he never had much use for it himself. Mr. _________, he called himself 'The Dude'. Now, 'Dude' - that's a name no one would self-apply where I come from. But then there was a lot about the Dude that didn't make a whole lot of sense.
Edward Perryman Cole died in May. It was a Sunday in the afternoon and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. He was 81 years old. Even now, I can't claim to understand the measure of a life, but I can tell you this: I know that when he died, his eyes were closed and his heart was open, and I'm pretty sure he was happy with his final resting place because he was buried on the mountain, and that was against the law.
Once upon a time, there was a quiet little village in the French countryside, whose people believed in Tranquilité - Tranquility. If you lived in this village, you understood what was expected of you. You knew your place in the scheme of things. And if you happened to forget, someone would help remind you. In this village, if you saw something you weren't supposed to see, you learned to look the other way. If perchance your hopes had been disappointed, you learned never to ask for more. So through good times and bad, famine and feast, the villagers held fast to their traditions. Until, one winter day, a sly wind blew in from the North...
I don't want to be a product of my environment. I want my environment to be a product of me. Years ago we had the church. That was only a way of saying - we had each other. The Knights of Columbus were real head-breakers; true guineas. They took over their piece of the city. Twenty years after an Irishman couldn't get a ****ing job, we had the presidency. May he rest in peace. That's what the (bleep) don't realize. If I got one thing against the black chappies, it's this - no one gives it to you. You have to take it.
You know, they say the great thing about being a kid is, it's so easy to pretend. You can have a conversation with your dog or a baseball or a banana. Well, what if wasn't pretend? What if you could have a conversation. I mean, not with a baseball or a banana - that's ridiculous, but - but with your dog?
It's said that the West was built on legends. Tall tales that help us make sense of things too great or too terrifying to believe. This is the legend of the __________. The thing about legends is... sometimes, they're true.
For as long as I can remember I always wanted to be a gangster. To me that was better than being president of the United States. To be a gangster was to own the world.
What is it that makes a man a man? Is it his origins, the way things start. Or is it something else, something harder to describe? For me it all began in 1944, classified mission off the coast of Scotland. The Nazis were desperate. Combining science and black magic they intended to upset the balance of the war. I was 28, already a paranormal advisor to President Roosevelt. I could never have suspected that what would transpire that night would not only effect the course of history but change my life forever.
When people ask me, good listeners, why do I hate all the Tutsi, I say, 'Read our history.' The Tutsi were collaborators for the Belgian colonists, they stole our Hutu land, they whipped us. Now they have come back, these Tutsi rebels. They are cockroaches. They are murderers. Rwanda is our Hutu land. We are the majority. They are a minority of traitors and invaders. We will squash the infestation. We will wipe out the RPF rebels. This is RTLM, Hutu power radio. Stay alert. Watch your neighbours.
This is James Henry Trotter. He lived with his mother and father in a cozy house by the sea. It was a wonderful life. They had each other and they had their dreams. ...Then, one day, a terrible thing happened. An angry rhinoceros appeared out of nowhere and gobbled up his poor mother and father. Their troubles... if they had any at all, were over in 35 seconds flat. But James' troubles were just beginning, for now he lives here with Aunt Sponge and Aunt Spiker.
Huh? I am *not* a bum. I'm _______. I once had wealth, power, and the love of a beautiful woman. Now I only have two things: my friends, and... uh... my thermos. Huh? My story? Okay. It was never easy for me. I was born a poor black child. I remember the days, sittin' on the porch with my family, singin' and dancin' down in Mississippi...
Come to Los Angeles! The sun shines bright, the beaches are wide and inviting, and the orange groves stretch as far as the eye can see. There are jobs aplenty, and land is cheap. Every working man can have his own house, and inside every house, a happy, all-American family. You can have all this, and who knows... you could even be discovered, become a movie star... or at least see one. Life is good in Los Angeles... it's paradise on Earth.' Ha ha ha ha. That's what they tell you, anyway.
Once upon this same earth, beneath this same sun, before you, before the ape and the elephant, before the wolf, the bison and the whale, before the mammoth and the mastodon, in the time of the dinosaurs. The dinosaurs were of two kinds. Some had flat teeth, and fed upon the leaves of trees, and those with sharp teeth, for eating meat, preyed upon the leaf-eaters. Now it happened that the trees began to die out. The mighty beasts who seemed to rule the earth, were, in truth, ruled by the leaf. Out of desperation, some of the herds ventured out west, in search of the Great Valley, a land still lush and green. It was a journey toward life.
This could be the room of any small boy, but it just happens to belong to a boy named Christopher Robin. Like most small boys, Christopher Robin has toy animals to play with, and they all live together in a wonderful world of make-believe. But his best friend is a bear called __________, or Pooh, for short. Now, Pooh had some very unusual adventures, and they all happened right here in the Hundred-Acre Wood.
This story is about Howard Beale, who was the news anchorman on UBS TV. In his time, Howard Beale had been a mandarin of television, the grand old man of news, with a HUT rating of 16 and a 28 audience share. In 1969, however, his fortunes began to decline. He fell to a 22 share. The following year, his wife died, and he was left a childless widower with an 8 rating and a 12 share. He became morose and isolated, began to drink heavily, and on September 22, 1975, he was fired, effective in two weeks. The news was broken to him by Max Schumacher, who was the president of the news division at UBS. The two old friends got properly pissed.
I was sheriff of this county when I was twenty-five years old. Hard to believe. My grandfather was a lawman; father too. Me and him was sheriffs at the same time; him up in Plano and me out here. I think he's pretty proud of that. I know I was. Some of the old time sheriffs never even wore a gun. ...The crime you see now, it's hard to even take its measure. It's not that I'm afraid of it. I always knew you had to be willing to die to even do this job. But, I don't want to push my chips forward and go out and meet something I don't understand. A man would have to put his soul at hazard. He'd have to say, 'O.K., I'll be part of this world.'
All this has happened before, and it will all happen again. But this time it happened in London. It happened on a quiet street in Bloomsbury. That corner house over there is the home of the Darling family. And __________ chose this particular house because there were people here who believed in him.
Although each of the world's countries would like to dispute this fact, we French know the truth: the best food in the world is made in France. The best food in France is made in Paris. And the best food in Paris, some say, is made by Chef Auguste Gusteau. Gusteau's restuarant is the toast of Paris, booked five months in advance. And his dazzling ascent to the top of fine French cuisine has made his competitors envious. He is the youngest chef ever to achieve a five-star rating. Chef Gusteau's cookbook 'Anyone Can Cook!' climbed to the top of the bestseller list. But not everyone celebrates its success.
There are many stories about Michael Sullivan. Some say he was a decent man. Some say there was no good in him at all. But I once spent 6 weeks on the road with him, in the winter of 1931. This is our story.
Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, the king and queen were blessed with a beautiful baby girl, and throughout the land everyone was happy, until the sun went down, and they saw that their daughter was cursed with a frightful enchantment that took hold each and every night. Desperate, they sought the help of a fairy godmother, who had them lock the young princess away in a tower, there to await the kiss of the handsome Prince Charming...
Who am I? You sure you want to know? The story of my life is not for the faint of heart. If somebody said it was a happy little tale... if somebody told you I was just your average ordinary guy, not a care in the world... somebody lied.
This is the story of how I died. Don't worry, this is actually a very fun story and the truth is, it isn't even mine. This is the story of a girl named Rapunzel
And God said Let there be light, and there was light. And from this light, God created life upon earth. And man was given diminion over all things upon this earth and the power to choose betweem good and evil. But each sought to do his own will because he knew not the light of God's law...
Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a ****ing big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. ...Choose your future. Choose life... But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin' else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you've got heroin?
We were once a peaceful race of intelligent mechanical beings. But then came the war between the Autobots, who fought for freedom and the Decepticons, who dreamt of tyranny. Overmatched and outnumbered, our defeat was all but certain. But in the wars final days, one Autobot ship escaped the battle. It was carrying a secret cargo, which would have changed our planet's fate. A desperate mission, our final hope... A hope that vanished.
Remember, remember, the Fifth of November, the Gunpowder Treason and Plot. I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot... But what of the man? I know his name was Guy Fawkes and I know, in 1605, he attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament. But who was he really? What was he like? We are told to remember the idea, not the man, because a man can fail. He can be caught, he can be killed and forgotten, but 400 years later, an idea can still change the world.
Mutants. Since the discovery of their existence they have been regarded with fear, suspicion, often hatred. Across the planet, debate rages. Are mutants the next link in the evolutionary chain or simply a new species of humanity fighting for their share of the world? Either way it is a historical fact: Sharing the world has never been humanity's defining attribute.