Uriel in China

All Movies All The Time

December 6, 2000

by Uriel Wittenberg (uw@urielw.com)


This is one in a series of letters from Uriel relating experiences and observations in China since his arrival in September, 2000. See China Index for full list and subscription info.

You may recall that Natalie, of my B group, proposed an alternative to our usual New York Times fare some time ago, a simple little story from Reader's Digest called "The Sixth Diamond." I took her up on the suggestion, we did the story in class, and then afterwards I asked the class what kind of reading they preferred to do in future. They opted for more Times stuff rather than more short stories like "Diamond."

A week or two later I spotted Natalie before class and asked her whether she was satisfied with how I'd elicited the class's reading preferences.

This girl has been quite inert lately. I honestly don't know what's with these kids. She didn't seem to know what I was talking about and, as I persisted, seemed to have no recollection of the discussion at all. Yet she'd been there -- I clearly remembered that. (A Western reader might be forgiven for thinking a lot of my kids are totally whacked out on drugs or something. But if it's drugs, no hint of it has reached me. Maybe it's what some call "Chinese culture." Certainly the confusion is non-stop.)

Natalie was also extremely fidgetty, apparently dying to get to class. I told her: "Class doesn't begin for another five minutes, but anyway, I'm the teacher, it won't begin without me."

As I forced her to focus on the issue for a moment, she said: "Maybe you should ask Dean Meng what the students prefer."

Was she perhaps fidgetting because she'd bad-mouthed me to Meng and was feeling guilty and embarrassed?

But what struck me was the possibility that I hadn't truly established student preferences. So I fetched my pseudo-assistant, Jim Wu, and had him pose the question as I waited outside the classroom: The Times, or "Sixth Diamond"?

He emerged some minutes later. They didn't want short stories. They wanted interesting readings. But they wanted readings that did not have so many difficult words.

Of course. They wanted to have their cake and eat it too. I pulled Jim back into the classroom and explained to the class: That wasn't a choice. You can choose Times; more stories from the same anthology containing "Sixth Diamond"; or anything else that you come up with. I couldn't go searching for them for readings satisfying contradictory criteria. Generally, I explained, good, interesting English writing for adults was liable to have a number of words that they didn't know. That was the tradeoff. (In fact, I'd already looked in a large local bookstore together with Dean Meng for suitable readings and, despite the large ESL selection, hadn't found anything. Frankly, I think the Times is an ideal source of short, self-contained, interesting and well-written reading selections.)

The resolution was that Jim would select something that seemed to fit what they were asking for.

He came up with five readings. We've so far done the two that the students chose to do first. One is a one-page description of Eastbourne, the small resort town on the south coast of England that a portion of the students will be going to in March (for the second half of their one-year, pre-university program).

The page is apparently copied from the literature of one of the ESL schools there. It actually makes Eastbourne sound quite nice. It makes one wonder ....

Wouldn't it be a shock for my students if I materialized at the front of the class in their new school in March? With, say, new reading selections from the Times?

The next Jim-selected reading -- actually, it seems he just got a couple of students to come up with readings from somewhere -- was about "Safe Computing." It opens with the italicized line: "Your data are the most valuable things you own!" It then talks about how one's computer data should be kept "duplicated," "isolated," and "transferable. "

The article is absolutely deadly.

After a brief discussion on the awkward sound of "data" when used as a plural noun, I surveyed the students: "What is the most valuable thing you own?" As I'd foreseen, not a one of them felt it was their "data."

True, these may be very unusual students. More likely, the article was written by a narrow-minded technocrat -- which served as a springboard for recounting how Bill Gates has discovered just lately, to the irritation of some of his fellow movers and shakers in the computer industry, that a "computer on every desktop" is not the final answer to the world's problems:

As the "Creating Digital Dividends" conference drew to a close in Seattle recently, the final speaker arrived and started asking skeptical questions. The premise was that "market drivers" could be used "to bring the benefits of connectivity and participation in the e-economy to all of the world's six billion people," according to conference materials, but the speaker would have little of it.

"I mean, do people have a clear view of what it means to live on $1 a day?" the speaker, William H. Gates, asked. "There's no electricity in that house. None."

When a moderator brought up solar power, Mr. Gates shot back, "No! You can't afford a solar power system for less than $1 a day." And, "You're just buying food, you're trying to stay alive."

It is a theme to which Mr. Gates, the world's richest man, returns in an interview at his office here at the Microsoft Corporation, the giant software maker he founded. Pacing the room, waving his hands, he conjures up an image of an African village that receives a computer.

"The mothers are going to walk right up to that computer and say, My children are dying, what can you do?" Mr. Gates says. "They're not going to sit there and like, browse eBay or something. What they want is for their children to live. They don't want their children's growth to be stunted. Do you really have to put in computers to figure that out?"

["Bill Gates Turns Skeptical on Digital Solution's Scope," The New York Times, November 3, 2000]

Mr. Li's proposal to do a script with the A's arose on a day when the B group and I were still discussing the importance of data. Once doing Total Recall occurred to me, it seemed too good to let the B's miss out on it, so I had copies of my 17-page screenplay excerpt made for all students in both groups.

We had quite a fun time Monday reading aloud the scene from the Rekall Memory Studio. No one seemed to be pining for The New York Times. "Ernie" (Chris), the hyperactive lab technician, amusingly botched his line about five times in a row before getting it right:

(hysterical) Excuse me, someone? We're talking the fucking Agency!

As for me, I enthralled the class with my McClane:

What the fuck is going on here?! You can't install a simple goddamn double implant?!

Of course, I am still persevering in my old goal of 100% comprehension. I've labored to rectify many serious omissions in the students' educations. They actually knew zilch about schizoid embolisms, Ego Trips, and double memory implants -- but they seem at least as receptive to this stuff as they are to my attempts to implant insights about the three branches of the U.S. government.

*   *   *

I began feeling pity for the freshmen, whom I was still abusing with those New York Times readings. Was it fair to let them miss out on the fun? I put the question to them: Did they feel like a bit of a change? A little bit of Terminator action, perhaps?

I explained the basic premise of Terminator: It's the year 2020, and war is raging -- between men and machines. The humans have a potent leader whom the machines would like to track down and kill, but they can't locate him.

The machines conjure a plan of almost human-like brilliance: Send a terminator back in time to kill his mother before he's born.

The terminator role, as I hope you all know, is what made Arnold Schwarzenegger a major superstar. He makes a delectable robot ... 'scuse me, cyborg.

Since historical records are fragmentary, the terminator has only the mother's name -- Sarah Connor -- and city of residence, nothing more specific. But no problem. He scans the addresses of the city's five Sarah Connor's from a phone directory and begins killing each in succession.

Before he gets to his target, word of a crazy killer randomly killing women with the same name is on the news. Sarah ends up in protective custody in a police station. This leads to the scene where Arnie immortalizes the words, "I'll be back":

INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT FOYER - NIGHT

Silberman can be seen through a glass partition next to the bullet-proof glass booth enclosing the NIGHT DESK SERGEANT'S counter. The Sergeant hits a button and there is a loud BULL-CLACK. The electric bolt on the security door opens and Silberman steps out.

As he exits the station, he passes Terminator just coming in the front door. He glances at the pale apparition in cap and dark wrap-arounds, but goes on.

Terminator approaches the Desk Sergeant who barely glances up when he speaks.

TERMINATOR: I'm a friend of Sarah Connor. I was told she is here. Can I see her, please?

SERGEANT: You can't see her. She's making a statement.

TERMINATOR: Where is she?

SERGEANT: (laconically) Look. It's gonna be a while. You wanna wait. There's a bench.

Terminator steps back, scanning the booth, the electric door, the rooms beyond.

TERMINATOR: I'll be back.

He turns and walks out through the front doors.

ANGLE PAST DESK SERGEANT, FOREGROUND - ON FRONT DOORS

The officer is absorbed in paperwork, not watching as a pair of lights get BRIGHTER outside the doors. RAPIDLY. He glances up at the last second as the glare falls fully on him. CRASH! Several cops and late night loiterers scatter as a car smashes into the foyer. It blasts through the sergeant's booth, crushing him in the wreckage.

CUT TO:

INT. DIVISION HQ / VUKOVICH'S OFFICE

Sarah, lying on the couch, jerks awake as the crash REVERBERATES through the building. She sits up, bleary-eyes.

CUT TO:

INT. DIVISION HQ / CORRIDOR

Through the hole in the splintered wall we see Terminator leap out of the car.

He vaults the hood and smashes through the debris of the wall.

Leaps to the corridor floor in a shower of plaster fragments.

He brandishes the AR-180 like a pistol in one hand, the .38 in the other.

The shotgun dangles at his side on a shoulder sling.

LOW ANGLE DOLLY

Preceding him as he starts down the corridor.

ANGLE ON LOUNGE DOORWAY

As TWO COPS run into the hall, one carrying a cup of coffee.

Terminator fires a burst from the assault rifle.

ANGLE ON COPS

They are flung backward in a spray of coffee and plaster.

[... etc. ...]

[from http://www.pumpkinsoft.de/screenplay451/alpha8.htm]

Fans like me derive thrills from several aspects of such scenes. First, the absurd gratuitousness of this logical machine telling the policeman "I'll be back" is just inexpressibly funny. Then there is Schwarzenegger's famously unique manner of speaking. They build this unbelievably sophisticated humanoid, then stick it with a thick Austrian accent. It's a scream -- but understandable, of course. There is no substitute for Schwarzenegger.

The cup of coffee is a laugh too. Like Tiffany's "Bob, the client's gone!" in Total Recall, it's a hoot when people completely fail to seize the seriousness of a situation, and it accentuates the drama.

And that implausible line, addressed to the indifferent cop: "I'm a friend of Sarah Connor. I was told she is here. Can I see her, please?" (Do you like the "please"?) The incongruousness of the words, spoken without human inflection by the grim, expressionless killing machine, provides an additional blast of delicious absurdity.

*   *   *

The freshmen were definitely up for this. Yes, they told me, we're ready for a change.

I have two groups of freshmen. For the other group, I selected something perhaps even more fabulous:

Morpheus: Let me tell you why you're here. You're here because you know something. What you know you can't explain. But you feel it. You've felt it your entire life. That there's something wrong with the world. You don't know what it is but it's there, like a splinter in your mind driving you mad. It is this feeling that has brought you to me. Do you know what I'm talking about?

Neo: The Matrix?

Morpheus: Do you want to know what IT is? The Matrix is everywhere. It is all around us, even now in this very room. You can see it when you look out your window or when you turn on your television. You can feel it when you go to work, when you go to church, when you pay your taxes. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth.

Neo: What truth?

Morpheus: That you are a slave, Neo. Like everyone else you were born into bondage, born into a prison that you cannot smell or taste or touch. A prison for your mind.... Unfortunately, no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself. This is your last chance. After this there is no turning back. You take the blue pill, the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.... Remember, all I'm offering is the truth, nothing more.... Follow me.... Apoc, are we online?

Apoc: Almost.

Morpheus: Time is always against us. Please, take a seat there.

Neo: You did all this?

Trinity: Uh-huh.

Morpheus: The pill you took is part of a trace program. It's designed to disrupt your input/output carrier signal so we can pinpoint your location.

Neo: What does that mean?

Cypher: It means buckle your seat belt, Dorothy, because Kansas is going bye-bye.

Neo: Did you...

Morpheus: Have you ever had a dream, Neo, that you were so sure was real. What if you were unable to wake from that dream. How would you know the difference between the dream world and the real world?

Neo: This can't be...

Morpheus: Be what? Be real?

Trinity: It's going into replication.

Morpheus: Apoc?

Apoc: Still nothing.

Neo: It's cold. It's cold.

Morpheus: Tank, we're going to need a signal soon.

Trinity: We've got fibrillation.

Morpheus: Apoc, location.

Apoc: Targeting almost there.

Trinity: It's going into arrest.

Apoc: Lock, I've got him.

Morpheus: Now, Tank. Now.

(Nebuchadnezzar)

Morpheus: Welcome to the real world. We've done it, Trinity. We've found him.

Trinity: I hope you're right.

Morpheus: I don't have to hope. I know it.

Neo: Am I dead?

Morpheus: Far from it.

Dozer: He still needs a lot of work.

Neo: What are you doing.

Morpheus: Your muscles have atrophied, we're rebuilding them.

Neo: Why do my eyes hurt?

Morpheus: You've never used them before. Rest, Neo. The answers are coming.

[Excerpted from http://www.ix625.com/matrixscript.html]


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