"Landru"
Posted on 03/27/2010 11:29:02 AM PDT by ETL
"The 'red hour' marked the beginning of the festival on Beta III, during the
governance of Landru. ("The Return of the Archons")"
http://memory-alpha.org/en/wiki/Red_hour
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"The U.S.S. Enterprise is investigating Beta III, where the U.S.S. Archon disappeared over 100 years before.
When the landing party exhibits strange behavior, Kirk sends another party down to investigate. They find the culture on Beta III is quiescent, with no creative tendencies. The entire culture is controlled by a group of 'lawgivers' known as "The Body" which is, in turn, controlled by the omniscient Landru. The inhabitants change from normal, peaceful people to a violent mob at the coming of the Red Hour. This 'Festival' is the society's only outlet for the tyrannical hold that Landru has over them at all other times."
"Landru"
Title: "The Return of the Archons"
Production: 022
Season: 1 Episode: 21
DVD Disc: 6
Air Date: 02.09.1967
Stardate: 3156.2
Star Trek: Episodes: The Return of the Archons:
http://www.startrek.com/startrek/view/series/TOS/episode/68704.html
Screen shot of "Red Hour" from The Return of the Archons
I can’t help but make that connection every time I hear her name!
Wow, that’s a great pic...compared with the real thing.
Here’s Obama’s ‘hippie’ communist counterparts in outer space.
‘yea, brother, yea...’
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Au6CAoJiWQw&feature=related
“There’s no Landrew”.... “Lawgivers!”
Al Gore is their “Landru”.
but ya cant beat Kirk yelling NO BLAH, BLAH,BLAH
As dopey as Shatner was back then, I think he's even more of a goof ball today. His PriceLine commercials couldn't be more annoying. Only "HI, BILLY MAYS HERE!!!" were worse, imo.
LOl! Describes the current situation perfectly! It’s a shame one isn’t required to take an IQ test before voting!
Fascinating illustration - a GIF no less. I downloaded it and it works. Do you know if that is free to share for free?
Where is NOMAD? Analyze.
The “properties” info says it’s on somebody’s personal photobucket site, so be very judicious in posting it. You might use up their monthly bandwidth if enough people look at it. If you can, put it on your own photo area.
“They are not of the Body!!’
“It is the will of Landru!’’.
At this moment O'Brien glanced at his wrist-watch, saw that it was nearly eleven hundred, and evidently decided to stay in the Records Department until the Two Minutes Hate was over. He took a chair in the same row as Winston, a couple of places away... The programmes of the Two Minutes Hate varied from day to day, but there was none in which Goldstein was not the principal figure... Before the Hate had proceeded for thirty seconds, uncontrollable exclamations of rage were breaking out from half the people in the room... But what was strange was that although Goldstein was hated and despised by everybody, although every day and a thousand times a day, on platforms, on the telescreen, in newspapers, in books, his theories were refuted, smashed, ridiculed, held up to the general gaze for the pitiful rubbish that they were - in spite of all this, his influence never seemed to grow less. Always there were fresh dupes waiting to be seduced by him. A day never passed when spies and saboteurs acting under his directions were not unmasked by the Thought Police. He was the commander of a vast shadowy army, an underground network of conspirators dedicated to the overthrow of the State... The horrible thing about the Two Minutes Hate was not that one was obliged to act a part, but, on the contrary, that it was impossible to avoid joining in. Within thirty seconds any pretence was always unnecessary... The Hate rose to its climax. The voice of Goldstein had become an actual sheep's bleat, and for an instant the face changed into that of a sheep. Then the sheep-face melted into the figure of a Eurasian soldier who seemed to be advancing, huge and terrible, his sub-machine gun roaring, and seeming to spring out of the surface of the screen... But in the same moment, drawing a deep sigh of relief from everybody, the hostile figure melted into the face of Big Brother, black-haired, black-moustachio'd, full of power and mysterious calm, and so vast that it almost filled up the screen. Nobody heard what Big Brother was saying. It was merely a few words of encouragement, the sort of words that are uttered in the din of battle, not distinguishable individually but restoring confidence by the fact of being spoken. [George Orwell, "1984", chapter 1]
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