i'm not sellin' cars, okay?

it's late.

i wanted to post something deniro, to help explain to those who don't understand exactly why my arm hairs stood at attention the other night.

raging bull, i thought. ("whadya doin? i just said don't overcook it, you're overcookin' it, bring it over. bring it over. it's like a piece a charcoal bring it over here!!!")

no. taxi driver. of course. ("look, can i see you again? no, i don't mean like that, i mean regularly -- this is nothing for a person to do.")

wait, what about new york, new york? not the most popular, but still one of my favorites. ("let's forget it, that's what i said. no, that's what I said. i said it -- i forgot it already.")

but then there's the deer hunter. the scene i wanted to post from the deer hunter was the second russian roulette scene, and if you haven't seen the movie...well you should see the movie. i first saw it with my friend ross rothmeier when we were in high school -- just about old enough to enlist, or be drafted -- if the situation ever arose. in a year or two i would register, at least.

as we drove away from the theater we both were nauseous. "i never, ever want to go to war, " i remember saying to ross. "i never want to go through that." i was embarrased to say it. ashamed. as though it made me less of a man, less of a person. ross said he didn't ever want to go either.

if you have seen the deer hunter, this may remind you of how powerful it, and deniro, is.

and after you've watched all those clips, here's something short and sweet and to the point. something i'd not seen. something worthy of 1:30 a.m. on a sunday night / monday morning.