[Oct, 06 2013] Listening comprehension&dictation The source: Cloud atlas (19:35- It was the night of the lamon prizes, through all that hospitality I recall a moment of introspection. Why...Why would anyone in their right mind choose to be a publisher? This was the precise moment that dermot found me. [1] Dermot: Ey, Timothy. Timothy: Aaah, Der~mot. Bad news inexorably does. Dermot: Fuckin waste. Timothy: Never forget herman melville, writting a ripping yarn about a big white whale which is summarily dismissed, and yet today, it is lugged around in the backpacks of every serious student of literature in the world. Dermot: I dont give a fuck what happens when I am dead. I want people to buy me book now! Timothy: Well, as your publisher, obviously nothing would make me happier. But sadly, for whatever reason, Knuckle Sandwich hasn't yet connected to its audience. Dermot: You want a reason? I'll give you a reason. Right there! Timothy: Oh, you mean Mr Finch. Dermot: Felix Fuckin Finch. That cunt shat all over me book in his poncy fuckin magazine. T: It wasnt that bad? D: No? "Mr Huggins should apologise to the trees failed for his bloated autobio novel. Four hundreds vein-glorious pages expire in an ending that is flat and inane beyond belief!" T: Steady now, dermot. What is a critic but one who reads quickly, arrogantly but never wisely. D: Fuck it. D: Ladies and gentlemen! We have an additional award tonight "fellow book fairies" An award for the most eminent critic, Mr, oh, BEG PARDON, SIR, Felix Finchy, O, B and E. F: And what might my prize be, I wonder? A signed copy of an unpulped Knuckle Sandwich? Can't be many of those left. F: Well, just what does that endless pencil which you call it imagination have in mind to end this scene. D: I think you are going to like this...