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Where does the good go

Archive for the 'Pulp Fiction Tuesdays' Category

What’s a n*gger gon do? He’s Samoan

Tuesday, June 22nd, 2010 by Dawn Summers

Hahaha I always thought, in a perfect world, this movie would just be about Vincent and Jules and their daily adventures. I’ve never seen Clerks, but Pulp Fiction coulda been like that. Two men on the job talking about foot massages and the holiest of holies.

You know what’s on my mind?

Tuesday, June 15th, 2010 by Dawn Summers

It ain’t the coffee in my kitchen…

I’ve gone and underestimated, F-train again. Or I’ve overestimated the amount of fear that throwing an imaginary lamp via twitter would inspire. Even in a tiny little man such as he. I will have to bring something sharper and scarier when I see him in real life later this week.
But back to Pulp Fiction…

One of my all-time favorite moments, involves this scene. So, I’m interning at a Manhattan magazine. You know, because once upon a time, in another life, I was going to be an investigative journalist! Hard hitting! Breaking News! But no. #Lazy

Anyway, one of the other interns brings in Starbucks for us one day. It was the 90s, so this was like “whoa”! STARBUCKS! So I’m all “you bought the fancy gourmet shit! We would have been happy with that regular shit, but you went and got us the fancy gourmet shit!”
He picks up on the reference right away and starts in “You don’t have to tell me how good my coffee is. I know how good my coffee is!”
And now I’m laughing my head off because not only did he *GET IT,* but he’s doing one of the finest Quentin Tarantino voices I’ve EVER heard. And I luh me some good impressions! He continues:
“When Bonnie goes to the store she buys shit, when I go to the store, I buy the good coffee. Because I like to taste it. But you know what’s on my mind right now? It’s not the coffee in my kitchen, it’s the –”
He just stops.
And NOW I’m laughing even HARDER! White boy is afraid to say the “n-word” with me standing there! And I assume it’s because I’m black, because CLEARLY he has done this monologue before and there’s no way someone so quick on his feet with all these lines would stop before the best part, right?

So now I’m like, dude, what’s worse? That you will readily say the n-word with your white friends or that you think I’m so dumb that I can’t suss out that the only reason you’re stopping now is to impress upon me that you’re not a racist?! Not that I *said* that.
What I did say was:

“Dude, I already KNOW all of you crackers are racist. So, don’t worry about it.”

Cutting to the chase

Tuesday, June 8th, 2010 by Dawn Summers

I love good writing.

That elusive paragraph, essay or book, that, for whatever reason, just grips you and doesn’t let go, even after you’ve finished all the words on the page.

Conversely, I hate hate hate bad writing. I want to grab the author by the shirt lapel and ask what the English language did that was so wrong, they felt the need to murder it and then try to take me out?!

Why am I writing about writing on Pulp Fiction Tuesday? Well, for a long time this scene was what I tried to model my writing on:

“Zed’s dead, baby, Zed’s dead.”

Short. True. Repeat.

It’s also great because this moment brilliantly captures who Butch is. He’s a man of action but he loves this woman even though she’s annoying as hell and we all want to slap her.

He is running for his life and this crazy woman wants to play 20 questions?! Now, he could leave her behind. (What I woulda done -Ed.) He could continue to entertain her lunacy. Nobody has time for that! Or he could cut off this entire line of questioning, right now.

And he does! It’s short, to the point and to this day still makes me laugh to think on it! Plus, when I used to abhor cursing, it was the one line I could say to let people know I was a Pulp Fiction fan without doing whatever black people do instead of blush! (Aw, I was young and innocent before the internet ruined me.)

Good writing, baby, good writing.

I didn’t forget

Tuesday, June 1st, 2010 by Dawn Summers

I really love this scene for so many reasons! Vincent Vega being all “what does a five dollar shake taste like”? I used to ask this kind of question all the time early in my law career when we’d go to these fancy restaurants where a glass of soda was $4.50 and I’d be like…is there rum in that?

But I also love the uncomfortable silences bit. You do indeed know you’ve found that special someone when you can just sit there and shut the eff up.

We’d have to be talking about one charming motherf*cking pig

Tuesday, May 25th, 2010 by Dawn Summers

(Here’s the post I published exactly a week ago before the “EMP” went off.)

It’s Pulp Fiction Tuesday again…despite Gib‘s nefarious attempt to hit the height of awesome with his comment last week ruining all hopes that the rest of us would ever have a better Pulp Fiction Tuesday.

Today’s selection was inspired by my encounter last Saturday with a substance that they call “tur-key ba-con.”

I was roaming around Costco when the whiff of delicious bacon aroma smacked me right upside the face. BACON!

I went sniffing my way through the top floor when I came upon the woman frying up a batch at her sample station. But the lump in her hand looked weird…there was no fat and it was kinda uniformly shaped in a way bacon never is. I looked at the box and saw “Turkey Bacon.” Alrighty. Look, this ish SMELLS amazing, so hey, who am I to turn up my nose at the turkey?
Dawn Summers that’s who!
That stuff tasted like crap! You know why? It wasn’t real bacon. Real bacon comes from a PIG! Bacon tastes good! Porkchops taste good!

Tell it, Vincent Vega!

And you will know my name is the LORD when I lay my vengeance upon thee

Tuesday, May 11th, 2010 by Dawn Summers

I have no idea what I was thinking of when I declared Pulp Fiction Tuesdays! But hell if I wasnt having a blast looking up youtube clips that werent disabled. Obviously, this scene is quintessential Pulp Fiction. Sam Jackson, big guns, dead motherfucking bodies. Ah.

The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother’s keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee.

So I dunno…let’s talk about the awesomeness of this scene. Everyone has had the opportunity to yell “English, motherfucker, do you speak it”? at some point or another in your life, right? If not, that is your homework.