In Greek mythology, Achilles (Ancient Greek: Ἀχιλλεύς, Akhilleus, pronounced [akʰillěu̯s]) was a Greek hero of the Trojan War, the central character and the greatest warrior of Homer's Iliad.
Plato named Achilles the most handsome of the heroes assembled against Troy.
Later legends (beginning with a poem by Statius in the 1st century AD) state that Achilles was invulnerable in all of his body except for his heel. As he died because of a small wound on his heel, the term Achilles' heel has come to mean a person's principal weakness.
Achilles' name can be analyzed as a combination of ἄχος (akhos) "grief" and λαός (Laos) "a people, tribe, nation, etc." In other words, Achilles is an embodiment of the grief of the people, grief being a theme raised numerous times in the Iliad (frequently by Achilles). Achilles' role as the hero of grief forms an ironic juxtaposition with the conventional view of Achilles as the hero of kleos (glory, usually glory in war).
Laos has been construed by Gregory Nagy, following Leonard Palmer, to mean a corps of soldiers, a muster. With this derivation, the name would have a double meaning in the poem: When the hero is functioning rightly, his men bring grief to the enemy, but when wrongly, his men get the grief of war. The poem is in part about the misdirection of anger on the part of leadership.
Plot
The second part of the film, in which through music, dance and excellent choreography presented is the fate of a group of young people endowed with supernatural abilities. Coming soon will be facing a major decision whether to use their skills in a just cause, or for their own benefit.
Plot
In Texas in the late '60s, the Whit family meets for the funeral of grandfather Sparta. This, however, is no normal funeral, and the Whits are no normal family. Young L'il Sparta spies on the corpse and sees his grandmother involved in macabre and sinister rituals. His parents go and collect Aunt Miranda from the rest home where she has been locked away because of her part in a family scandal, while the tension between father and uncle over money matters is sky-high. In the stables, the camel belonging to the deceased has an attack of nerves, and after he's been calmed down, the child meets the grandfather's ghost who recounts all the family tales.
Keywords: black-humor, burial, cadillac, camel, camel-farm, cemetery, cigarette-smoking, civil-war, coffin, cousin-cousin-relationship
Zach Whit: A man spends the first half of his life trying to figure women out, and the second half trying to forget what he's learned.
The World's Mightiest Man In The Mightiest Spectacle Ever Filmed.
Plot
Nineteenth century Wyoming: the wild West. Mild-mannered Tom Healy has a two-wagon theater troupe hounded by creditors because Angela, his leading lady and the object of his affection, constantly buys clothes. In Cheyenne, they meet with applause, so they hope to stay awhile: the theater owner likes Angela, and she keeps him on a string. She's also the object of the attentions of Mabry, a gunslinger who's owed money by the richest man in Bonanza. Complications arise and the troupe heads for Bonanza, through hostile Indian territory. Is the troupe doomed to a peripatetic life, is Mabry in danger, and does Tom stand a chance with Angela, a hellion in pink tights?
Keywords: actor, actress, ambush, based-on-novel, behind-the-scenes, cheyenne-wyoming, corpse, corset, costume, dead-man
One foot on the stage... And one step ahead of the law!
THE NIGHT THE KILLER WON THE HELLER IN A POKER GAME...AND MEANT TO KEEP HER! (original print ad - all caps)
Some men tamed the West with lightning guns...others with iron fists...but one woman held the West in the palm of her hand...lying, cheating, kissing, repenting and kissing again...from Virginia City to Cheyenne!
Her Lady Godiva act started the excitement that couldn't be stopped!
Thomas 'Tom' Healy: [upon being kissed by Angie] Is that for something you did, or something you're gonna do?
De Leon: You'll never be a businessman, Goober. You part with money much too easily. To owe is one thing, to pay is quite another.
Plot
Prince Paris of Troy, shipwrecked on a mission to the king of Sparta, meets and falls for Queen Helen before he knows who she is. Rudely received by the royal Greeks, he must flee...but fate and their mutual passions lead him to take Helen along. This gives the Greeks just the excuse they need for much-desired war.
Keywords: abduction, ancient-greece, arson, bare-chested-male, battle, battlefield, blonde, boat, bow-and-arrow, boxing
Its towering wonders span the age of titans!
Priam: [on seeing the Greek naval fleet approaching] The face that launched a thousand ships!
Paris: Make me immortal with a kiss!
Helen: [seeing the Trojan horse] Beware Greeks bearing gifts.
Helen: Forgive me Helen. You're two women. Both wise and good. I am two men, one fairly good, I try to believe and the other very bad indeed.::Helen: One is a man, the other just a boy I think... Paris, let him be so always... Never let him grow old.
Paris: Oh Goddess come to Earth. Make me a mortal with your kiss and we'll live on nectar and ambrosia... [kiss]... But I am not sure I like being so ethereal.
Helen: There's away Gods have... To give with one hand and take with two.
Images engrained in our heads
Sicky figures portrayed as beautiful
Our eyes hurt from seeing this grotesque parade
Leaving nothing for imagination
Our sensual acts are so predictable so engrossed with a fixated pretense
That's nothing I ever want to be
That's nothign I ever want to be
What we see is not the truth
What we see is not possible
We wipe away the sleep from our eyes
to be blinded by all of this light surrounding us
Cover ourselves to hide
knowing that if we look long enough we might be able (to) see
Counting our failures
Feeling our insides burn with defeat
Walking away from it all runs through our heads
But we stay
Our insides burn
Everything feels so right
Our eyes on fire
Our eyes on fire
Counting our failures our insides burn with defeat
Let us wait until dark
The storm is passing over us
Our throats are dry with anticipation
Our first attempts at using our voices
It's been months since we've found words
These nights we hold our heads
with shaky hands
Wondering why we even mutter these words
Wondering why we even mutter these words
It's been months since we've found words
These nights we hold our heads with shaky hands
We've all been here before.
We've all seen it before.
We've all heared it before.
Everything fails in comparison,
recreating the same emotion
time and time again.
We're bound to fail.
Nothing can be recaptured.
Nothing!
Save it!
Relish it!
Realize this (Realize!)
and you'll be (You'll be!)
relieved. (Take it!)
The desert rips our flesh
Our mouths dry
Our skin is cracked
Moisture is what we crave
The mirage of a city
Our only antagonist
As the heat bakes our skin
Nothing left
Vicious circle
Our bodies are dead
The sand gripped our knees
Cities burn and tides will rise
Contact with silence
Breathless echoes of life
Cities burn and tides will rise
A commanding silence stares
Cities burn and tides will rise
Breaking senses down
Chasing the infinite
Skepticism from out saturated minds
Whispers reverberate off the night's canvas
and in my head cities burn and tides will rise
Drag the anchor
Drag the anchor
We can't seem to get away
Where do we settle tonight?
We build our lives thinking this will never happen
And now everything is lost
Rebuild, will this happen again
Rebuild, our lives drag this anchor
Where do we settle tonight?
Will the levy's hold?
Will this happen tonight?
Will the levy's hold?
Will this happen tonight?
I've made so many mistakes
Lives passing through me
I've made so many mistakes
without noticing such lies
They never ask
or know any better
Touching, tasting
There is no difference
Feeling's left rotten
Now we curl up, hold ourselves
A whole generation
standing at our graves
Who's to blame
These lessons won't be taught
And we scream at the top of our lungs
To the placated youth
Mirrored images
Bastardized
Distorted
A whole generation
standing at our graves
And we scream at the top of our lungs
By the gods of war he was made
never challenged by his prey
a demon, a warrior, a god
the keeper of his cause
The strongest of the strong
no matter the right or wrong
as far as the eye can see
he will never concede
Born into war is all that he's known
the seeds of terror are what he has sown
a maiden has never seen into his heart
and for this passion his soul will depart
The blade of Achilles is blessed by the gods
a slave to no man he fights for a cause
the strength of Achilles will render you cold
the might of Achilles shall never be sold
For the shores of Troy they set sail
when all before him failed
to avenge his cousin's life
a victim of the knife
Ten thousand fall that day
leaving as they feign to sail away
they take it, a gift behind the gates
soon will seal their fate
Achilles the brave that no man can kill
the arrow of fate across his heel
will be the fall of Achilles this day
A whole generation
standing at our graves
Who's to blame
These lessons won't be taught
And we scream at the top of our lungs
To the placated youth
Mirrored images
Bastardized
Distorted
A whole generation
standing at our graves
And we scream at the top of our lungs
If this is the future, we're fucked
We're all liars,
playing our little games.
Where do we get off?
Honesty is a dream.
The haze has lifted.
Once a room of smiling faces.
Now it's all so calculated and expected.
We're all liars!
Thanks for coming out.
We have merch in the back.
We're all liars here,
playing our own little games.
Three years drip down the drain
and we're drowning in it all
We bought the ticket
and our legs are nothing
but a bloody tangled mess
Because we've been running non-stop
in hopes to find what we're looking for
We can not keep hiding in songs and ignoring sound
This "can" is tradition
and the "not" is freedom
Yeah, right.
Dead presidents represent us
Not fools and lovers
So what will it be
The king or the captain?
So what will it be
Wake up, wake up
We're losing everything
Our minds lifted
Stripped of our will to fight
Complacent ideals
We are fixtures
Barely passing as living human beings
We are fixtures
Wake up, wake up
We're losing everything
Wake up, wake up
We are fixtures
She doesn't know if she is anyone. She doesn't know that
she needs help. She stares down into a loaded gun. But
she knows she must accept herself. Damns it all because
of all her inner helplessness and fear. Among us she is a
warrior, she'd rather die than shed a tear. In her world
she is the sun. But she is cold and skies are black. Her
helplessness hurts everyone. But I can try to bring her
back. Damns it all because of all her inner helplessness
and fear. Among us she is a warrior, she'd rather die
than shed a tear. And still we don't seem to care. Carves
her arm and dyes her hair. She'd kill for you to care.
Your prose is getting to be all the theatre
Your characters
Before we sit down to write
Remember we've always been a reader
Long before a writer
Do you know what you will be asked when you die?
Were most of your stars out?
To burn out, screaming past, fixated on the crash.
Instructions were thrown out so long ago.
No margins left
No margins left
This course, this course is dialed.
Don't let this pass by
Dialed in
Rest assured this night, tomorrow's a new day.
Everything will change.
These feelings of unrest will only make you fight that much more.
Rest assured, our time will come.
We're all tired of waiting this out.
We all feel the same emotions.
Your name in lights raised high so everyone can see
The imave you've created for yourself is sickening
A pathetic facade of bright colors lacking
No tangeable thought
No feelings radiating
The emotion's gone
Representation is lackluster
You're capturing an image of yourself that you can't live up to
You can have it
Heads lift with vacant eyes
We nod for some formality
Tucked away in homes
Left alone, nursing our own morality
Few hours spent with our generations past
Nothing how I want to remember it
Tired eyes look back at me
No matter who's sitting in the steat strings are attached.
Corporate interest have their hands hovering.
Individuals get fucked in the end.
While the puppeteers take what they need.
Draining life from our viens.
Our lives are up for sale.
How much are we worth?
Everything that was sacred has now been mass produced.
For our convenience.
Is this what we want?
Corporate intersts have their hands everything
So what does it take to break through?
Skulls are thick and I'm just sick.
These words don't seem to resonate like they should.
The sound. The look.
Are all being sold right back to us.
Marketed for mass consumption.
Tearing at the wings
Flying away
Nothing can keep me here
Slipped through my fingers
I struggled and I fought
The burning in my eyes
In my eyes and throat
Choking on my thoughts
Always scratching
This silence is deafening
These ideas, These images
Are pictures I can't paint
Passing into shadow