Subject: Re: "...but sometimes my arms bend back"
From: gary@oak.circa.ufl.edu (Nija/Pwcca/Manitou)
Date: 1990-04-20, 02:12
Newsgroups: alt.tv.twin-peaks

In article <1990Apr20.031922.982@gpu.utcs.utoronto.ca>, mposner@gpu.utcs.utoronto.ca (Eli Posner) writes:
> >Everyone noticed the moosehead picture in Laura's room, right? It's just
> >Lynch bugging nitpickers again.
 
  What huh? Where was Laura's room? What moosehead picture? Damn it, now I have
to watch the episode again...
  By the way, anyone else notice that in the Jack With One Eye, the pool table
light had a BUNCH of deer antlers attached to it... and in the Pilot, there was
a deers head on the table at the bank... interesting, these are also the only
two episodes directed by David Lynch...
 
> >BTW, what exactly did Cooper say when he saw that bloody cloth or whateerv
> >it was?
 
  Something like "Look at that"... damn, I have such a crappy memory...
 
> >Can anyone guess what's in those TWO ledgers? What's going on between Pete
> >and Josie?
 
  THe two ledgers are there because C/katherine is getting the land-owner to do
some "creative mathmatics" with the ledger... in other words, making it look
like the sawmill is losing money. Apparently, Pete is allied with Josie 
against Catherine, who has shown herself to be a class A-1 bitch so far... That
line where she says "Go to your room!", brrrrrrrrrr!
 
> >What the hell does "I feel like I know her but sometimes my arms bend back."
> >mean? Lastly, why did Laura touch her nose? I apparently missed Ed and Sherrif
> >exchanging a nose touching. When was this?
 
  That's from the special ending made for the movie pilot which is going to be
distributed on video in Europe (and maybe in America, he said desperately). I
think the line is just more of Lynch's surrealism...
 
> >Am I the only one pleasantly confused?
 
  You and millions of others, that's all...
===============================================================================
                gary%maple.decnet@pine.circa.ufl.edu : Internet

  There was a beat-up VW van with a "Just Say Sho' To Drugs" bumper sticker
parked next to my ultra-cool black '65 Stingray Corvette with sheepskin seat
covers. I promptly planted a kilo of C-4 underneath its gas tank and once back
on University Avenue, detonated it, reducing the van and everything nearby into
a pile of charred scrap. Nobody parks piece-of-shit cars next to my wheels.