The film claims that each of the mini Laserdiscs holds 12 hours of video, which is impossible.A 12" Laserdisc would hold, at most, around 60 minutes of video per side, so the smaller discs in the film would hold far less than that.A 25 year old female White House staffer, Carla Town, is murdered in the White House. See full summary » An eccentric scientist working for a large drug company is working on a research project in the Amazon jungle.
D., Code Red, Initiative operative, Six Pack, Agency X, One World Church, Deadpool Inc., Weapon X, Department K, U. Army Special Forces, Great Lakes Avengers / Initiative reserve member (Wisconsin Initiative), Oyakata's sumo stable, briefly held probationary status in the X-Men (recurrently presenting himself as a member); former partner of Elektra, Wolverine, Spider-Man, Lasher, and presumably others; former operative for Landau, Luckman & Lake, Commission on Superhuman Activities, Tolliver, Taskmaster, Kingpin, Dr.
Move one inch, Walrus screams, and he will do unspeakable things, after which our girls will no longer want us. He also is confiscating porn books, to protect our morals and read later. “Half of ’em don’t even know how rifle sights work.
I figured they kept Walrus in a dungeon by day and just let him out to torture recruits by night. He reaches for a book in my suitcase and glares at me with eyes of tin and death. And they’ve got about three months to adjust to a complicated life they’ve got no experience with. Like this friend of mine is teaching a class about the M-60 machine gun, and he’s telling them its rate of fire, it’s gas-operated, and this skinny recruit says, ‘But where’s the gas tank?
It describes a Parris Island that no longer exists. A high percentage of Americans spend time in the military. A particular aspect of the national character appears in the organized anarchy of military life.
In fact it describes a world that no longer exists. Literature finds the military a feast — Catch 22, M*A*S*H, A Farewell To Arms, Dispatches, and all the rest. Here’s to basic, as I remember it, as everyone remembers it, as I saw it in going back this year. Next to finding a Portuguese man-of-war in the bathtub, the worst thing that could happen to a kid of 20 in 1968 was getting to Parris Island at a grainy-eyed two in the morning, flat exhausted, and meeting a drill instructor. DIs will pull your fingernails off one by one, make you run until your knees corrode, bury you to the neck in sand and leave you for the mosquitoes. On that loneliest morning I’ll ever see, my introduction to the Marines–the Green Team, the Crotch, Uncle Sam’s Misguided Children–was a little man 32 feet wide and about as high as my chin. He had a voice like Krakatoa in full eruption, and his name was Staff Sergeant Bull Walrus. He exploded into the headlights like one of hell’s more vicious demons, trembling with fury.