I Am Going to Go Through These Fucking Walls

There's another scene in The Men Who Stare at Goats I wanted to tell you about, the first scene, in fact. It opens on a tight close-up of this older army guy, grizzled and grey in the mustache, looking really intently at something.

"Boone," he says, face wicked with sweat.

"Yes sir?"

"I'm going into the other room."

And he gets up from his desk and charges pell-fucking-mell right at the wall, charging with the purest of Intention. And he hits the wall and WHAM, back he goes, sprawling onto the ground.

"Dammit," he says.

Okay, so yeah, that's pretty much what we would expect would happen. But then you have the course of the whole movie, all of George Clooney and Ewan McGregor's ramblings and so on. And in the very last scene (I'm spoilering this shit, look askance if you have a delicate constitution) we see McGregor staring death-rays at a wall, now compleat with mustache of his own, get up and charge pell-fucking-mell right at a similar wall.

Guess what happens this time. (It's literally probably better in your head than it was on-screen).

Anyway, my point is that I feel like I'm staring at walls right now. I'm staaring and staaring and my blood vessels are about to go critical, but that's the necessary part. Because by God, I am going to go through these fucking walls. And I'm not even going to knock them down, because that's cheating, that's bullshit. I'm going to go right through them.