# dead white comics society the fisher king - man movies like that make you dream while awake mr. williams was so great in that - along with everybody else in fact the whole movie seems a pitch perfect video hallucination.. in some ways the half-silvered mirror reflection of david cronenberg's videodrome the first time you saw dead poets society you found it charming heart-warming what's simultaneously awful about it of course are the mawkishly bile-inducing ideas / myths it has about literature learning - and how it portrays that endlessly hollow hollywooden word 'passion' > o captain my captain - get off that flocking desk! > your fearful trip is done at last - it's time to put to rest > your ship of old wet wood - weathered on every video rack > the prize once sought by platitudes now lost - and never coming back > the false port lies near the plastic bells we hear dim viewers all exulting > while i alone follow rolling eyes your unsteady keel a vessel grimly daring > but o heart! heart! heart! > o bleeding drops of rosy red > where on the desk my captain lies > fallen cold and dead from waiting > to hear more praise enduring > o captain! my captain! rise up and hear them leaden bells > rise up - for you the black flag is flung > for you the squeaky pupil bugle trills > for you alone cheap bouquets and ribboned wreaths - for you the shores a-crowding > for you they call indulgent swaying mass with eager blank faces turning; > here captain! dear father figurine! > this robotic arm beneath your swollen head! > tis' not merely some dream that on the desk > you've fallen cold and dead > when long in fact you've smelt quite bad > my captain does not answer ir lips are pale and still; > my father figurine does not feel my arm ey never had a pulse or will; > the ship is anchored safe and sound its voyage closed and done in a bottle > from fearful trip the victor ship comes in with useless object won; > exult o shores and ring o bells! but i with deadpan tread, > walk atop the classroom desk my captain lies > long fallen old and sad yet when parry in the fisher king lightly castigates ir besmitten lydia for ir publication (and love) of trashy dime store romance novels you really feel ir plain unadorned humanity > there's nothing trashy about romance. in romance is passion. there's imagination. there's beauty. besides you find.. some wonderful things in the trash > ~ perry (robin mclaurin williams july 21 1951 - august 11 2014) // republic of bob