I love the smell of napalm in the morning....

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Johnny (to Brian, the security guard): Is that it now then? Are you through with the regulation pacing? All set to deploy the fatuous sarcasm? Well, I've beaten you to it. Brian: Would you like a mint? Johnny: What's this new policy? Ply the culprit with menthol? Brian: Waste not, want not. Johnny: An' other cliches. Brian: But a cliche is full of truth, otherwise it wouldn't be a cliche. Johnny: Which is in itself a cliche. Brian: Have you got nowhere to go, then? Johnny: I've got an infinite number of fuckin' places to go, the problem is where you stay. Johnny: And what is it what goes on in this particular postmodernist gas chamber? Brian: Nothing. It's empty. Johnny: So what is it you're guardin', then? Brian: Space. Johnny: You're guardin' space? That's stupid, isn't it? Because someone could break in there, eh, and steal all the fuckin' space and you wouldn't know it's gone, would you? Brian: Good point. Brian: ...That's my job. Johnny: Well, could they not train a tall chimpanzee to do that? Or, a small chimpanzee with a bigger gizmo? Brian: I suppose they could. Johnny: Well Brian, you've succeeded in convincing me you have the most tedious fuckin' job in England. Johnny: So you think you can make the present palatable by projecting into the future? You're living in the past, pal. It's the future that fucks you up, Brian, it's the maggot in the apple. See, you're all pissed off with the present, right? And there's nothing wrong with the present. The present's fine, the present's perfect, the present's peachy fuckin' creamy. The only thing wrong with the present is the bastard doesn't exist, because the present is the future and the future is the past, and it's all the same fuckin' bag of bones anyway. It's a constant process of coming into being and passing away, coming into being and passing away. The future is now. Brian: But the present does exist. We're in it now. Johnny: You were just then when you said it, but you're not in it now. You're not in it now. You're not in it now. You're forever being kicked up the ass by the future. You with me? Johnny: Has nobody not told you, Brian, that you've got this kind of gleeful preoccupation with the future? I wouldn't even mind, but you don't even have a fuckin' future, I don't have a future. Nobody has a future. The party's over. Take a look around you man, it's all breaking up. Are you not familiar with the book of Revelations of St. John, the final book of the Bible prophesying the apocalypse?... He forced everyone to receive a mark on his right hand or on his forehead so that no one shall be able to buy or sell unless he has the mark, which is the name of the beast, or the number of his name, and the number of the beast is 6-6-6. ...What can such a specific prophecy mean? What is the mark? Well the mark, Brian, is the barcode, the ubiquitous barcode that you'll find on every bog roll and packet of johnnies and every poxy pork pie, and every fuckin' barcode is divided into two parts by three markers, and those three markers are always represented by the number 6. 6-6-6. Now what does it say? No one shall be able to buy or sell without that mark. And now what they're planning to do in order to eradicate all credit card fraud and in order to precipitate a totally cashless society, what they're planning to do, what they've already tested on the American troops, they're going to subcutaneously laser tattoo that mark onto your right hand, or onto your forehead. They're going to replace plastic with flesh. Fact. In the same book of Revelations when the seven seals are broken open on the day of judgment and the seven angels blow the trumpets, when the third angel blows her bugle, wormwood will fall from the sky, wormwood will poison a third part of all the waters and a third part of all the land and many many many people will die. Now do you know what the Russian translation for wormwood is? ....Chernobyl. Fact. On August the 18th, 1999, the planets of our solar system are gonna line up into the shape of a cross... They're gonna line up in the signs of Aquarius, Leo, Taurus, and Scorpio, which just happen to correspond to the four beasts of the apocalypse, as mentioned in the book of Daniel, another fuckin' fact! Do you want me to go on? The end of the world is nigh, Brian, the game is up. Brian: I don't believe that. Life can't just come to a stop. Johnny: All right, I'm not saying that life will end or the world will end, or the universe will cease to exist. But man will cease to exist. Just like the dinosaurs passed into extinction, the same thing will happen to us. We're not fuckin' important! We're just a crap idea! Brian: I'm not going to cease to exist. I'm gonna be here in the future. Johnny: What is this fuckin' fixation with the future?! Listen pal, I've got chronic systolic palpitations and acute fuckin' neuralgia! Brian: Let me ask you a question. Johnny: What? Brian: Have you ever had the sense that you've lived in a time different from this one? Johnny: What you mean like in a past life? Brian: Could be, yeah. Johnny: Yeah well in my past life I was dead. Brian: But you see I wasn't. I know I was here in the past before I was born, so I know I'm going to be here in the future after I've died. Johnny: I see. And in this alternative existence did you still have the same noxious body odor? Brian: No need to be personal. It's what I believe. Johnny: Shall I tell you what I believe? Brian: You don't believe in anything. Johnny: Do you think the amoeba ever dreamed that it would evolve into the frog? Of course it didn't. And when that first frog shimmied out of the water and employed its vocal chords in order to attract a mate or to retard a predator, do you think that that frog ever imagined that that incipient croak would evolve into all the languages of the world, into all the literature of the world? Of course it fuckin' didn't. And just as that froggy could never have possibly conceived of Shakespeare, so we can never possibly imagine our destiny. Brian: I know what my destiny is. Johnny: Yeah but what you're experiencing, as far as I can gather, with all these manifestations of regression and precognition and transmigratory astral fuckin' chatterings is just the equivalent of that first primeval grunt. Because evolution isn't over. Man isn't the be-all and fuckin' end all. Look, if you take the whole of time represented by one year, we're only in the first few moments of the first of January. There's a long way to go. Only now we're not going to sprout extra limbs and wings and fins because evolution itself is evolving. And whereas you, through some process of extrasensory recall, might imagine that you were some, I don't know, some 17th-century little Dutch girl living in a windmill in old Amsterdam, one day you'll realize that you've had not just one or two past or future existences, but that you were and are everybody and everything that has ever been or will ever be. Brian: Hang on a minute, you've just contradicted yourself. Johnny: Oh, how'd you make that out? Brian: Downstairs you were predicting the end of the world, now you're talking about the future. How do you explain that, eh? Johnny: Easy. When it comes, the apocalypse itself will be part of the process of that leap of evolution. Brian: Well. Whatever happens, mankind will not cease to exist. Johnny: He must. By the very definition of apocalypse, mankind must cease to exist, at least in a material form. Brian: What do you mean in a material form? Johnny: Well he'll evolve. Brian: What into? Johnny: Into something that transcends matter. Into a species of pure thought. Are you with me? Brian: Yeah...like a ghost! Johnny: No, not like a fuckin' ghost you big girl's blouse, into something that's like well beyond our comprehension. Into a universal consciousness. Into God, who is by the same principle that time is. Brian: You don't believe in God. Johnny: Of course I believe in God. You see, the thing is Brian, that God is a hateful God. Must be. Because if God is good, then why is there evil in the world? Why is there pain and hate and greed and war? It doesn't make sense. But if God is a nasty bastard then you can say: why is there good in the world? Why is there love and hope and joy? Well let's face it, good exists in order to be fucked up by evil. The very existence of good enables evil to flourish, therefore, God is bad. And it doesn't matter how many past or future existences you have because they're all going to be riddled with grief and anguish and sickness and death. You see Brian, God doesn't love you. God despises you. So there's no hope. Mankind is just a component of the device by which the Devil creates itself. You with me? You see what I'm saying basically is, you can't make an omelet without cracking a few eggs, and humanity is just a cracked egg. And the omelet ....stinks. Brian: Yeah. (David Thewlis, 'Naked')

1 Responses to “I love the smell of napalm in the morning....”

  1. Blogger sojourning crow 

    liposuction leftovers?? very nice.
    how about I-Can't-Find-My-Fetus Barbie.

    Cocteau Twins and Jeff Buckley, eh?? Thought I was the only one.

    Thanks for stoppin'.

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