The “Cow Over Moon” Experiment
Now that science has proven that the cat does not actually play the fiddle, as many have surmised, but was merely seen near the fiddle at the time of the mysterious cutlery disappearance (CAT + FIDDLE), we now turn our attention to the heretofore long-considered “hyperbolic” or “hallucinogenic” passage concerning the “cow” that “jumped over the moon.” Looking at the above diagram, it is readily apparent that the vantage point of the LITTLE DOG (a) with regards to the COW (b) is so low, especially in relation to the surrounding horizon, and the COW so near to the LITTLE DOG, that the cow would only need to “jump” four or five feet into the air in order for the LITTLE DOG to perceive it as having jumped “over the MOON”(c). Similar unexpected juxtaposed images of dairy animals and celestial bodies have produced laughter not only in “little dogs” but in the larger breeds as well in laboratory settings (see Goose et alia, Cow, Moon, Dish, Spoon, pp 321-449, op. Cit.).
World Trade Center
When I was a child, my father described the three-act structure like this:
“In Act One, you get a guy stuck up in a tree. In Act Two, they throw rocks at him. In Act Three, you figure out how to get him down.”
Well, here we have a movie that has almost exactly that plot.
WRITER: Here’s an idea for a movie. Guy gets stuck in a tree.
STUDIO EXECUTIVE: I love it. Then what?
W. Then they throw rocks at him.
SE. Pinch me! I see dollar signs! And for the big finish?
W. Then we figure out how to get him down.
SE. This is great. Oh man, this is great. I can’t — I can’t even sit still, this is too great. We’re gonna make a shitload of money.
W. You like it?
SE. It’s — it’s poetry, honestly. You like Nic Cage?
W. Sure. You mean as the guy?
SE. In the tree, yeah.
W. Sure, yeah, okay.
SE. My guy knows his guy, he’s doing a picture for us, we’ll set up a meeting.
W. Really? That, well, that’d be g —
SE. Hey.
W. Yeah?
SE. Here’s an idea.
W. What’s that.
SE. I like the tree? I like it. Don’t get me wrong. I’m just, I’m thinking — just to make it a bigger movie, mind you —
W. Yeah?
SE. What if — and this is the bad version — what if, instead of a tree?
W. Yeah?
SE. A skyscraper.
W. Skyscraper?
SE. Guy gets stuck in a skyscraper.
W. Why would he get stuck in a skyscraper?
SE. I dunno. Maybe he’s got acrophobia, maybe he’s a construction worker, maybe he’s a fireman. Hey! Instead of a tree, building on fire.
W. Uh huh —
SE. Yeah, building on fire! He’s a fireman!
W. Didn’t Ladder 49 bomb?
SE. Shit, yeah. Bad idea. Hey. You know what?
W. What.
SE. Two skyscrapers.
W. (pause) Two —
SE. Yeah, not one skyscraper, two skyscrapers. And instead of him being stuck up in it? He’s stuck under it.
W. Mm —
SE. See? We stand the whole thing on its head.
W. Right, right — we, we seem to be getting away from the simplicity of the “tree” concept.
SE. Two skyscrapers. They fall down. And we give him somebody to talk to. Remember how Tom Hanks had that soccer ball in Cast Away? Same thing. We give him a, a, I dunno, a black friend or something.
W. I read that Latinos are America’s fastest-growing demographic.
SE. Perfect. Latino friend, that’s perfect. See? And so there’s two guys. Two skyscrapers, two guys. See? Now we’re thinking in terms of “theme.” We’re polishing the script we haven’t even written yet!
W. And in Act Three we get them out.
SE. That’s the movie.
W. And we can still throw rocks at them in Act Two?
SE. Act Two is all about the throwing of rocks. So many rocks. By the end of the movie, these guys will be spitting little rocks out of their mouths. Now all we need is two collapsed skyscrapers. You like Oliver Stone? He’s looking for a project.