http://www.king5.com/on-tv/tv-schedule
TV Schedule
Date/Time
Monday - 04/01 8 PM 8:30 PM [ 01 April 2013 Pacific Time Seattle USA ]
KMYQ-DT MYNET 22.1
The Simpsons Lisa the Skeptic (TV-PG) A protest gets Lisa's school the ability to conduct an archaeological dig revealing a human skeleton that has a foreboding message.
The Simpsons Mr. Spritz Goes to Washington (TV-PG) Krusty gets voted into Congress to help get the flight path for Springfield Airport changed, but falls in line with the conformists once he's there.
http://www.snpp.com/episodes/5F05
Lisa the Skeptic
Original Airdate on FOX: 23-Nov-1997
Bart: Where we're going mom, are we going to Black Angus?
Marge: Well you might say, we're going to the best steak house in the whole universe.
Bart: So we're
-- Nope, "Lisa the Skeptic"
[Marge is putting Lisa's bow on for her]
Lisa: Will you leave me alone. It's bad enough your'e making me go to your stupid Judgement Day!
Marge: Please Lisa, I don't know exactly what's going to happen, but I really wish we could make peace before sunset.
Lisa: Nothing is going to happen mom. I hate to dissapoint you but the world is
% Lisa exits, as Marge peers out the window in dispair.
% The time has come. The people of Springfield are fathered upon the hill,
% stood around the angel. It is nearly sunset.
Ned: Well, shall we sing a hymn. Dear my God to thee maybe... or... er... Amazing Grace?
Lovejoy: Uhhh, nah.
-- Awaiting the end, "Lisa the Skeptic"
[holding Marge's hand] Oh Marge, don't let go. No matter what. If they want you in heaven they have to take me too!
% The sun begins to set. This is it.
Wiggum: 10 seconds till sun down.
Patty: [takes a smoke] We did it, we beat cancer.
[stubs cigarette out]
Smithers: Oh... what the hell!
[kisses Mr. Burns]
Wiggum: 7, 6...
All: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!
-- Countdown to the end, "Lisa the Skeptic"
% The sun sets, and the townsfolk gasp, yet nothing happens. At least
% not for now. Lisa's about to lecture the town, but the angel speaks!
Silence! [it rises] Prepare for the end! The end of high prices! Behold, the grand opening of the Heavenly Hills Mall! [The mall lights up and it is revealed to us only that the men from the mall are talking into the angel] Please follow the angel for all your shopping needs. [The angel is mechanically put onto the sign. It gets stuck half way but a man helps it along with a wooden pole]
-- An end to the madness. The angel speaks, "Lisa the Skeptic"
Lisa: Wait a second, you planted a phony skeleton for me to find. this was all a big hoax.
Sid: Not a hoax, a publicity stunt.
Lisa: You exploited people's deepest beliefs just to annoint your cheesy wares. Well we are outraged, arn't we?
Wiggum: [unenthusiastically] Oh yes, we're outraged. Very much so. but look at all the stores. A pottery barn!
Moe: And 20 percent off everything! Does that include rat spray?
Sid's partner: Oh yeah.
http://www.snpp.com/episodes/5F05
Lisa the Skeptic
Original Airdate on FOX: 23-Nov-1997
% Lisa storms into the kitchen, where she finds Marge.
Lisa: Oh, those morons make me feel so angry! [gets a drink from refridgerator]
Marge: Maybe so, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't call them morons.
Lisa: But they are morons! What grown person could believe in angles?
Marge: Well, your'e mother for one!
Lisa: You? But your'e an intelligent person, mom.
Marge: There has to be more life than just what we see Lisa, everyone needs something to believe in.
Lisa: It's not that I don't have a spiratual side, I just find it hard to believe there's a dead angel hanging in our garage.
Marge: Oh, my poor Lisa, if you can't make a leap of faith now and then, well, I feel sorry for you.
Lisa: Don't feel sorry for me mom, I feel sorry for you. [leaves]
-- I feel sorry for both of you, "Lisa the Skeptic"
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: From: Kerry Burgess
Sent: Sunday, February 12, 2006 9:55 AM
To: Kerry Burgess
Subject: Sleep journal 2/12/06
There are more details to the first dream that I can understand. I can remember some images that I can't explain. They seem like outside scenes I remember while a passenger on a car trip. The part I remember best is of me riding my bicycle through a park, playfully riding around piles of leaves. There are a couple of maintenance workers there that seem to know who I am based on the comments one makes to the other. My lawyer is waiting for me at another location in the park. The park is almost familar but not quite. I stop where he is and discuss the meeting I had just come from, a meeting with Microsoft. They gave me a settlement check. I told him that I almost pissed in my pants when I saw the amount of the check. I also explained that they had wanted to stick it to me all this time because they want to send a message to all the people watching. They want people to know that if Microsoft does something wrong to you, and you complain, they are going to make your life a living hell.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 12 February 2006 excerpt ends]
http://www.e-reading.org.ua/bookreader.php/97924/King_-_The_Langoliers.html
Stephen King
The Langoliers [ RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 ]
The LED readout for the left tank began to slow down when it reached 21,000 pounds, and by the time it topped 22,000 it had almost stopped. Brian understood what was happening and quickly flicked two switches, shutting down the hydraulic pumps. The 727–400 had given them what she had to give: a little over 46,000 pounds of jet-fuel. It would have to be enough.
“All right,” he said, standing up.
“All right what?” Nick asked, also standing.
“We’re uncoupling and getting the fuck out of here.”
The approaching noise had reached deafening levels. Mixed into the crunching smacking sound and the transmission squeal were falling trees and the dull crump of collapsing buildings, just before shutting the pumps down he had heard a number of crackling thuds followed by a series of deep splashes. A bridge falling into the river Nick had seen, he imagined.
“Mr Toomy!” Bethany screamed suddenly. “It’s Mr Toomy!”
Nick beat Brian out the door and into first class, but they were both in time to see Craig go shambling and lurching across the taxiway. He ignored the plane completely. His destination appeared to be an empty triangle of grass bounded by a pair of crisscrossing taxiways.
“What’s he doing?” Rudy breathed.
“Never mind him,” Brian said. “We’re all out of time. Nick? Go down the ladder ahead of me. Hold me while I uncouple the hose.” Brian felt like a man standing naked on a beach as a tidal wave humps up on the horizon and rushes toward the shore.
Nick followed him down and laid hold of Brian’s belt again as Brian leaned out and twisted the nozzle of the hose, unlocking it. A moment later he yanked the hose free and dropped it to the cement, where the nozzle-ring clanged dully. Brian slammed the fuel-port door shut.
“Come on,” he said after Nick had pulled him back. His face was dirty gray. “Let’s get out of here.”
But Nick did not move. He was frozen in place, staring to the east. His skin had gone the color of paper. On his face was an expression of dreamlike horror. His upper lip trembled, and in that moment he looked like a dog that is too frightened to snarl.
Brian turned his head slowly in that direction, hearing the tendons in his neck creak like a rusty spring on an old screen door as he did so. He turned his head and watched as the langoliers finally entered stage left.
18
“So you see,” Craig said, approaching the empty chair at the head of the table and standing before the men seated around it, “the brokers with whom I did business were not only unscrupulous; many of them were actually CIA plants whose job it was to contact and fake out just such bankers as myself — men looking to fill up skinny portfolios in a hurry. As far as they are concerned, the end — keeping communism out of South America — justifies any available means.”
“What procedures did you follow to check these fellows out?” a fat man in an expensive blue suit asked. “Did you use a bond-insurance company, or does your bank retain a specific investigation firm in such cases?” Blue Suit’s round, jowly face was perfectly shaved; his cheeks glowed either with good health or forty years of Scotch and sodas; his eyes were merciless chips of blue ice. They were wonderful eyes; they were father-eyes.
Somewhere, far away from this boardroom two floors below the top of the Prudential Center, Craig could hear a hell of a racket going on. Road construction, he supposed. There was always road construction going on in Boston, and he suspected that most of it was unnecessary, that in most cases it was just the old, old story — the unscrupulous taking cheerful advantage of the unwary. It had nothing to do with him. Nothing whatever. His job was to deal with the man in the blue suit, and he couldn’t wait to get started.
“We’re waiting, Craig,” the president of his own banking institution said. Craig felt momentary surprise — Mr Parker hadn’t been scheduled to attend this meeting — and then the feeling was overwhelmed by happiness.
“No procedures at all!” he screamed joyfully into their shocked faces. “I just bought and bought and bought! I followed No... PROCEDURES... AT ALL!”
He was about to go on, to elaborate on this theme, to really expound on it, when a sound stopped him. This sound was not miles away; this sound was close, very close, perhaps in the boardroom itself.
A whickering chopping sound, like dry hungry teeth.
Suddenly Craig felt a deep need to tear some paper — any paper would do.
http://www.e-reading.org.ua/bookreader.php/97924/King_-_The_Langoliers.html
Stephen King
The Langoliers [ RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 ]
“We’re waiting, Craig,” the president of his own banking institution said. Craig felt momentary surprise — Mr Parker hadn’t been scheduled to attend this meeting — and then the feeling was overwhelmed by happiness.
“No procedures at all!” he screamed joyfully into their shocked faces. “I just bought and bought and bought! I followed No... PROCEDURES... AT ALL!”
He was about to go on, to elaborate on this theme, to really expound on it, when a sound stopped him. This sound was not miles away; this sound was close, very close, perhaps in the boardroom itself.
A whickering chopping sound, like dry hungry teeth.
Suddenly Craig felt a deep need to tear some paper — any paper would do. He reached for the legal pad in front of his place at the table, but the pad was gone. So was the table. So were the bankers. So was Boston.
“Where am I?” he asked in a small, perplexed voice, and looked around. Suddenly he realized... and suddenly he saw them.
The langoliers had come.
They had come for him.
Craig Toomy began to scream.
19
Brian could see them, but could not understand what it was he was seeing. In some strange way they seemed to defy seeing, and he sensed his frantic, overstressed mind trying to change the incoming information, to make the shapes which had begun to appear at the east end of Runway 21 into something it could understand.
At first there were only two shapes, one black, one a dark tomato red.
Are they balls? his mind asked doubtfully. Could they be balls?
Something actually seemed to click in the center of his head and they were balls, sort of like beachballs, but balls which rippled and contracted and then expanded again, as if he was seeing them through a heat-haze. They came bowling out of the high dead grass at the end of Runway 21, leaving cut swaths of blackness behind them. They were somehow cutting the grass
No, his mind reluctantly denied. They are not just cutting the grass, and you know it. They are cutting a lot more than the grass.
What they left behind were narrow lines of perfect blackness. And now, as they raced playfully down the white concrete at the end of the runway, they were still leaving narrow dark tracks behind.
http://www.snpp.com/episodes/5F05
Lisa the Skeptic
Original Airdate on FOX: 23-Nov-1997
Lenny: Wow, do you think it flew up here?
Moe: Well, it didn't ride up on no zebra.
Look! A message. The end will come at sundown. [laughs] Wait a second, I don't like the sound of that...
Ralph: Daddy, I'm scared. Too scared to even wet my pants.
Wiggum: Just relax and it'll come, son.
- posted by H.V.O.M - Kerry Wayne Burgess 8:53 PM Pacific Time Seattle USA Monday 01 April 2013
