Thursday, 23 December 2021

Decide to Submit











They Try to be One...  

One Heart...

One Morality.


  

Their Prophet Says, 

"Submit."


  

Jesus Says...  

"Decide."





[Cafe]


(The sign says open, but there are no lights on and no customers. A Jamaican man comes out from the kitchen.) 


JOHN: Can I help you? 


DOCTOR: A mug of tea, please. 


JOHN: Cold night tonight. 


DOCTOR: Yes, it is. Bitter, very bitter. Where's Harry? 


JOHN: Visiting his missus. She's in hospital. 


DOCTOR: Of course…. It'll be twins. 


JOHN: Hmm? Your tea. Sugar? 


DOCTOR: Ah. A Decision —Would it make any difference? 


JOHN: It would make your tea sweet. 


DOCTOR: Yes, but •beyond• the confines of my tastebuds — would it make any difference? 


JOHN: Not really.


DOCTOR: But — 


JOHN: Yeah? 


DOCTOR: What if I could •control• people's tastebuds? 


What if I decided that no one would take sugar? 


THAT’S make a difference to those who sell the sugar and those that cut the cane. 


JOHN: My FATHER — He was a cane cutter. 


DOCTOR: Exactly. Now, if no one had used sugar, your father wouldn't have been a cane cutter. 


JOHN: If this sugar thing had never started, my great-grandfather wouldn't have been kidnapped, chained up, and sold in Kingston in the first place. 


I'd be a African.


DOCTOR: See? 


Every great decision creates ripples, like a huge BOULDER dropped in a lake. 


The ripples merge, rebound off the banks in •unforeseeable• ways. 


The heavier the decision, the larger the waves, the more uncertain the consequences. 


JOHN: Life's •like• that. 


Best thing is just to get on with it. 



(The little girl looks in the window at them, and leaves as the Doctor notices her.) 


DOCTOR: Did you see that? 


JOHN: See what? 


DOCTOR: Nothing. 


What would you do if you had a decision, a big decision? 


JOHN: How big? 


DOCTOR: Saving The World. 


JOHN: Really? 


DOCTOR: Really. 


JOHN: I wish you the best of luck. 


DOCTOR: Let's hope I make the right decision. 


Things could get unpleasant round here. 

I'd take a holiday if I were you. 


JOHN: Oh, sure. How long? 


DOCTOR: Two or three days. 


After that, it won't matter one way or the other. 

Thanks for the tea. 



JOHN: Any time. 


(The Doctor puts a coin on the counter and leaves. John picks it up.) 


JOHN: 1991? 


Tuesday, 21 December 2021

The Lord knows I am not a cruel man






"I trust you had a pleasant meal?" said Zarniwoop to Zaphod and Trillian as they rematerialized on the bridge of the starship Heart of Gold and lay panting on the floor.

Zaphod opened some eyes and glowered at him.

"You," he spat. He staggered to his feet and stomped off to find a chair to slump into. He found one and slumped into it.

"I have programmed the computer with the Improbability Coordinates pertinent to our journey," said Zarniwoop, "we will arrive there very shortly. Meanwhile, why don't you relax and prepare yourself for the meeting?"

Zaphod said nothing. He got up again and marched over to a small cabinet from which he pulled a bottle of old Janx spirit. He took a long pull at it.

"And when this is all done," said Zaphod savagely, "it's done, alright? I'm free to go and do what the hell I like and lie on beaches and stuff?"

"It depends what transpires from the meeting," said Zarniwoop.

"Zaphod, who is this man?" said Trillian shakily, wobbling to her feet, "What's he doing here? Why's he on our ship?"

"He's a very stupid man," said Zaphod, "who wants to meet the man who rules the Universe."

"Ah," said Trillian taking the bottle from Zaphod and helping herself, "a social climber.



The major problem - one of the major problems, for there are several - one of the many major problems with governing people is that of whom you get to do it; or rather of who manages to get people to let them do it to them.

To summarise : it is a well known fact, that those people who most want to rule people are, ipso facto, those least suited to do it. To summarise the summary : anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job. To summarize the summary of the summary: people are a problem.

And so this is the situation we find : a succession of Galactic Presidents who so much enjoy the fun and palaver of being in power that they very rarely notice that they're not.

And somewhere in the shadows behind them - who?

Who can possibly rule if no one who wants to do it can be allowed to? 



On a small obscure world somewhere in the middle of nowhere in particular - nowhere, that is, that could ever be found, since it is protected by a vast field of unprobability to which only six men in this galaxy have a key - it was raining.

It was bucketing down, and had been for hours. It beat the top of the sea into a mist, it pounded the trees, it churned and slopped a stretch of scrubby land near the sea into a mudbath.

The rain pelted and danced on the corrugated iron roof of the small shack that stood in the middle of this patch of scrubby land. It obliterated the small rough pathway that led from the shack down to the seashore and smashed apart the neat piles of interesting shells which had been placed there.

The noise of the rain on the roof of the shack was deafening within, but went largely unnoticed by its occupant, whose attention was otherwise engaged. He was a tall shambling man with rough straw-coloured hair that was damp from the leaking roof. His clothes were shabby, his back was hunched, and his eyes, though open, seemed closed.

In his shack was an old beaten-up armchair, an old scratched table, an old mattress, some cushions and a stove that was small but warm.

There was also an old and slightly weatherbeaten cat, and this was currently the focus of the man's attention. He bent his shambling form over it.

"Pussy, pussy, pussy," he said, "coochicoochicoochicoo ... pussy want his fish? Nice piece of fish ... pussy want it?"

The cat seemed undecided on the matter. It pawed rather condescendingly at the piece of fish the man was holding out, and then got distracted by a piece of dust on the floor.

"Pussy not eat his fish, pussy get thin and waste away, I think," said the man. Doubt crept into his voice.

"I imagine this is what will happen," he said, "but how can I tell?"

He proffered the fish again.

"Pussy think," he said, "eat fish or not eat fish. I think it is better if I don't get involved." He sighed.

"I think fish is nice, but then I think that rain is wet, so who am I to judge?"

He left the fish on the floor for the cat, and retired to his seat.

"Ah, I seem to see you eating it," he said at last, as the cat exhausted the entertainment possibilities of the speck of dust and pounced on to the fish.

"I like it when I see you eat the fish," said the man, "because in my mind you will waste away if you don't."

He picked up from the table a piece of paper and the stub of a pencil. He held one in one hand and the other in the other, and experimented with the different ways of bringing them together. He tried holding the pencil under the paper, then over the paper, then next to the paper. He tried wrapping the paper round the pencil, he tried rubbing the stubby end of the pencil against the paper and then he tried rubbing the sharp end of the pencil against the paper. It made a mark, and he was delighted with the discovery, as he was every day. He picked up another piece of paper from the table. This had a crossword on it. He studied it briefly and filled in a couple of clues before losing interest.

He tried sitting on one of his hands and was intrigued by the feel of the bones of his hip.

"Fish come from far away," he said, "or so I'm told. Or so I imagine I'm told. When the men come, or when in my mind the men come in their six black ships, do they come in your mind too? What do you see pussy?"

He looked at the cat, which was more concerned with getting the fish down as rapidly as possible than it was with these speculations.

"And when I hear their questions, do you hear questions? What do their voices mean to you? Perhaps you just think they're singing songs to you." He reflected on this, and saw the flaw in the supposition.

"Perhaps they are singing songs to you," he said, "and I just think they're asking me questions."

He paused again. Sometimes he would pause for days, just to see what it was like.

"Do you think they came today?" he said, "I do. There's mud on the floor, cigarettes and whisky on the table, fish on a plate for you and a memory of them in my mind. Hardly conclusive evidence I know, but then all evidence is circumstantial. And look what else they've left me."

He reached over to the table and pulled some things off it.

"Crosswords, dictionaries, and a calculator."

He played with the calculator for an hour, whilst the cat went to sleep and the rain outside continued to pour. Eventually he put the calculator aside.

"I think I must be right in thinking they ask me questions," he said, "To come all that way and leave all these things for the privilege of singing songs to you would be very strange behaviour. Or so it seems to me. Who can tell, who can tell."

>From the table he picked up a cigarette and lit it with a spill from the stove. He inhaled deeply and sat back.

"I think I saw another ship in the sky today," he said at last. "A big white one. I've never seen a big white one, just the six black ones. And the six green ones. And the others who say they come from so far away. Never a big white one. Perhaps six small black ones can look like one big white one at certain times. Perhaps I would like a glass of whisky. Yes, that seems more likely."

He stood up and found a glass that was lying on the floor by the mattress. He poured in a measure from his whisky bottle. He sat again.

"Perhaps some other people are coming to see me," he said.

A hundred yards away, pelted by the torrential rain, lay the Heart of Gold.

Its hatchway opened, and three figures emerged, huddling into themselves to keep the rain off their faces.

"In there?" shouted Trillian above the noise of the rain.

"Yes," said Zarniwoop.

"That shack?"

"Yes."

"Weird," said Zaphod.

"But it's in the middle of nowhere," said Trillian, "we must have come to the wrong place. You can't rule the Universe from a shack."

They hurried through the pouring rain, and arrived, wet through, at the door. They knocked. They shivered.

The door opened.

"Hello?" said the man.

"Ah, excuse me," said Zarniwoop, "I have reason to believe ..."

"Do you rule the Universe?" said Zaphod.

The man smiled at him.

"I try not to," he said, "Are you wet?"

Zaphod looked at him in astonishment.

"Wet?" he cried, "Doesn't it look as if we're wet?"

"That's how it looks to me," said the man, "but how you feel about it might be an altogether different matter. If you feel warmth makes you dry, you'd better come in."

They went in.

They looked around the tiny shack, Zarniwoop with slight distaste, Trillian with interest, Zaphod with delight.

"Hey, er ..." said Zaphod, "what's your name?"

The man looked at them doubtfully.

"I don't know. Why, do you think I should have one? It seems very odd to give a bundle of vague sensory perceptions a name."

He invited Trillian to sit in the chair. He sat on the edge of the chair, Zarniwoop leaned stiffly against the table and Zaphod lay on the mattress.

"Wowee!" said Zaphod, "the seat of power!" He tickled the cat.

"Listen," said Zarniwoop, "I must ask you some questions." "Alright," said the man kindly, "you can sing to my cat if you like."

"Would he like that?" asked Zaphod.

"You'd better ask him," said the man.

"Does he talk?" said Zaphod.

"I have no memory of him talking," said the man, "but I am very unreliable."

Zarniwoop pulled some notes out of a pocket.

"Now," he said, "you do rule the Universe, do you?"

"How can I tell?" said the man.

Zarniwoop ticked off a note on the paper.

"How long have you been doing this?"

"Ah," said the man, "this is a question about the past is it?"

Zarniwoop looked at him in puzzlement. This wasn't exactly what he had been expecting.

"Yes," he said.

"How can I tell," said the man, "that the past isn't a fiction designed to account for the discrepancy between my immediate physical sensations and my state of mind?"

Zarniwoop stared at him. The steam began to rise from his sodden clothes.

"So you answer all questions like this?" he said.

The man answered quickly.

"I say what it occurs to me to say when I think I hear people say things. More I cannot say."

Zaphod laughed happily.

"I'll drink to that," he said and pulled out the bottle of Janx spirit. He leaped up and handed the bottle to the ruler of the Universe, who took it with pleasure.

"Good on you, great ruler," he said, "tell it like it is."

"No, listen to me," said Zarniwoop, "people come to you do they? In ships ..."

"I think so," said the man. He handed the bottle to Trillian.

"And they ask you," said Zarniwoop, "to take decisions for them? About people's lives, about worlds, about economies, about wars, about everything going on out there in the Universe?" "Out there?" said the man, "out where?"

"Out there!" said Zarniwoop pointing at the door.

"How can you tell there's anything out there," said the man politely, "the door's closed."

The rain continued to pound the roof. Inside the shack it was warm.

"But you know there's a whole Universe out there!" cried Zarniwoop. "You can't dodge your responsibilities by saying they don't exist!"

The ruler of the Universe thought for a long while whilst Zarniwoop quivered with anger.

"You're very sure of your facts," he said at last, "I couldn't trust the thinking of a man who takes the Universe - if there is one - for granted."

Zarniwoop still quivered, but was silent.

"I only decide about My Universe," continued the man quietly. "My Universe is my eyes and my ears. 

Anything else is hearsay."

"But don't you believe in anything?"

The man shrugged and picked up his cat.

"I don't understand what you mean," he said.

"You don't understand that what you decide in this shack of yours affects the lives and fates of millions of people? This is all monstrously wrong!"

"I don't know. I've never met all these people you speak of. And neither, I suspect, have you. They only exist in words we hear. It is folly to say you know what is happening to Other People. Only They know, if They exist. They have Their Own Universes of their own eyes and ears."

Trillian said:

"I think I'm just popping outside for a moment."

She left and walked into the rain.

"Do you believe other people exist?" insisted Zarniwoop.

"I have no opinion. How can I say?"

"I'd better see what's up with Trillian," said Zaphod and slipped out.

Outside, he said to her:

"I think the Universe is in pretty good hands, yeah?" 

"Very good," said Trillian. They walked off into the rain.

Inside, Zarniwoop continued.

"But don't you understand that people live or die on your word?"

The Ruler of the Universe waited for as long as he could. When he heard the faint sound of the ship's engines starting he spoke to cover it.

"It's nothing to do with me," he said, "I am not involved with People. 

The Lord knows I am not a cruel man."

"Ah!" barked Zarniwoop, "you say `The Lord'. You believe in something!"

"My Cat," said the man benignly, picking it up and stroking it, "I call him The Lord. I am kind to him."

"Alright," said Zarniwoop, pressing home his point, "How do you know He exists? How do you know He knows you to be kind, or enjoys what he thinks of as Your Kindness?"

"I don't," said the man with a smile, "I have no idea. It merely pleases me to behave in a certain way to what appears to be A Cat. 

Do you behave any differently? 
Please, I think I am tired."

Zarniwoop heaved a thoroughly dissatisfied sigh and looked about.

"Where are the other two?" he said suddenly.

"What other two?" said the ruler of the Universe, settling back into his chair and refilling his whisky glass.

"Beeblebrox and the girl! The two who were here!"

"I remember no one. The past is a fiction to account for ..."

"Stuff it," snapped Zarniwoop and ran out into the rain. There was no ship. The rain continued to churn the mud. There was no sign to show where the ship had been. He hollered into the rain. He turned and ran back to the shack and found it locked.

The Ruler of The Universe dozed lightly in his chair. After a while he played with the pencil and the paper again and was delighted when he discovered how to make a mark with the one on the other. Various noises continued outside, but he didn't know whether they were real or not. He then talked to his table for a week to see how it would react. 

Kubrick/Southern











An Interview
with
Stanley Kubrick, director of Lolita (1962)

An Interview with Stanley Kubrick Director of L O L I T A 
by 
Terry Southern 
Unpublished; 1962; NYC
 
Terry and Stanley had a starcrossed relationship--like two planets dancing in orbit with each other--achieving perfect alignment--then veering off into remote areas of the universe. They met when they needed each other most: Stanley was making a movie about the annihlation of planet earth--and needed a miracle to make it funny. Terry, about to be dubiously crowned 'The Candy Man' needed a break from the 'Quality-Lit' scene he was getting bored of teasing. They found each other through Peter Sellers, who, at Christmas time, bought 100 copies of his favorite novel, The Magic Christian, and gave them to friends--friends like Stanley Kubrick. Kubrick saw in the novel a talent which could be orchestrated--a writer of dialogue who could be cut loose like Charlie Parker.

Before Stanley read The Magic Christian, Esquire sent Terry to do an interview with the unknown director who had just finished Lolita. Upon meeting Kubrick in England, Terry's New Journalism investigations were bursting out across the pond in Esquire, including: "How I signed up for $250 a Day For the Big Parade Through Havana bla, bla, bla and Wound Up In Guatamala Working For the CIA," and "Twirling at Ole Miss"--which Tom Wolfe cites as the story which started New Journalism and Gonzo. Upon Strangelove's release, with Terry so popular, and with the previously contraband Candy making her debut as a controversial best-seller --the press turned Terry into the 'author' of the film--a tresspass Kubrick never completely forgave.
 
An Interview with Stanley Kubrick
by Terry Southern
July, 1962; NYC
Probably the most talented, surely the most ambitious, and absolutely the youngest full-fledged film-maker on the American scene today, is Stanley Kubrick -- who, at only 33, has created a body of work (six features and two documentaries) as richly diverse as it is substantial.

Paths Of Glory, acclaimed by critics throughout the world as one of the best war pictures ever filmed was made when he was 28 years old -- certainly as remarkable a cinematic achievement as that of any contemporary American.

At 30, he was given the singular distinction (if not exactly honor) of directing the super production, Spartacus, with a budget of ten million dollars. Aware, intuitive, and deeply attuned to his times, Kubrick is a chess-playing poet and extremely articulate, speaking in visual metaphor, with the kind of relentless honesty of principle and direction that is a rare felicity indeed.

The following interview took place in the New York office of Harris-Kubrick Productions, and is a transcript of the taped recording.

Southern: What was it mainly that appealed to you in the novel, Lolita?

Kubrick: Well it's certainly one of the great love stories, isn't it? I think Lionel Trilling's piece in Encounter is very much to the point when he speaks of it as "the first great love story of the 20th century." And he uses as his criteria the total shock and estrangement which the lovers, in all the great love stories of the past have produced on the people around them. If you consider Romeo and Juliet, Anna Karenina, Madame Bovary, The Red and the Black, they all had this one thing in common, this element of the illicit, or at least what was considered illicit at the time, and in each case it caused their complete alienation from society.

But then in the 20th century, with the disintegration of moral and spiritual values, it became increasingly difficult, and finally impossible, for an author to credibly create that kind of situation, to-to conceive of a relationship which would produce this shock and estrangement -- so that what was resorted to achieve the shock value, was erotic description. Whereas Trilling felt that Lolita somehow did succeed, in the classic tradition, having all the stormy passion and tenderness of the great love story as well as this element of the lovers being estranged from everyone around them. And, of course, Nabokov was brilliant in withholding any indication of the author's approval of the relationship. In fact, it isn't until the very end, when Humbert sees her again four years later, and she's no longer by any-stretch of the definition a nymphet, that the really genuine and selfless love he has for her is revealed. In other words, this element of their estrangement, even from the author -- and certainly, from the reader--is accomplished, and sustained, almost through the very end.

Southern: I want to ask you some questions more about the actual filming of Lolita, but first I'd like to go back for a moment--to the time when you were 21, working as a Look photographer, and ask you how you got started as a filmmaker.

Kubrick: I just rented a camera and made a movie--a 28 minute documentary--Day of the Fight was the name of it, a day in the life of a boxer, from the time he wakes in the morning until he steps in the ring that night.

Southern: I understand you made the film entirely by yourself--did you also finance it?

Kubrick: Well, it didn't cost much--I think the camera was ten bucks a day--and film, developed and printed, is ten cents a foot. The most expensive thing was the music...the whole film cost 3900 dollars, and I think about 2900 of it was for the music, having it sync'd in.

Southern: Your first feature was Fear and Desire?

Kubrick: Yes, a pretentious, inept and boring film--a youthful mistake costing about 50,000 dollars--but it was distributed by Joseph Burstyn, in the art houses and caused a little ripple of publicity and attention. ..I mean there were people around who found some good things in it, and on the strength of that I was able to raise private financing to make a second feature-length film, Killer's Kiss. And that was a silly story too, but my concern was still in getting experience and simply functioning in the medium, so the content of a story seemed secondary to me. I just took the line of least resistance, whatever story came to hand. And for another thing I had no money to live on at the time, much less to buy good story material with--nor did I have the time to work it into shape--and I didn't want to take a job, and get off the track, so I had to keep moving. Fortunately too, I wasn't offered any jobs during this period--I mean perhaps if I had been offered some half-assed TV job of something I wouldn't have had the sense to turn it down and would have been thrown off the track of what I really wanted to do, but it didn't happen that way. In any case, I made that picture Killer's Kiss, and United Artists saw it and bought it.

Southern: It was about that time, wasn't it, that you met James Harris and formed your own company?

Kubrick: That's right. He was running a television distribution company at the time...together we made The Killing. That's the first film I made with decent actors, a professional crew, and under the proper circumstances. It was the first really good film I made, and it got a certain amount of attention...then we bought the rights to Paths of Glory. That was a book I had read when I was about fourteen, and one day I suddenly remembered it.

Southern: I understand there was some controversy over the ending of the film--where the French soldiers are executed for desertion--that you asked to change it so that the men would not be shot at the end of the film.

Kubrick: It wasn't a controversy--I mean there were some people who said you've got to save the men, but, of course, it was out of the question. That would have been like making a film about capital punishment in which the executed man was innocent--it would just be pointless. And also, of course, it actually happened--the French Army mutinies of 1917 were fairly extensive, whole regiments marched out of the trenches, and men were executed, by lot.

Southern: Is Paths of Glory still banned in France?

Kubrick: Yes--it's also banned in Switzerland, Spain, and Israel, because of reciprocal agreements these countries have with France.

Southern: Did the film in fact, make any money?

Kubrick: It's probably made some money by now. But what you have to realize is that the period of movies, starting from about the middle fifties, began to decline in terms of box-office, right down to where it is now, which is about 40% of what it was before television. Television, you know, was a big threat in the beginning because it was free, but then they ran out of things to show and it started to get boring -- and at that point the major studios, in order to show better balance sheet, very unwisely began unloading their pictures, selling them to TV, which then gave the networks something at least as good and sometimes better than what could be seen in the theatres. Now Paths of Glory was made about the middle of this period of decline in movie business, and by comparison to the average 'A' picture during that time it did average business. So it wasn't exactly a smash success, and I suppose there are a lot of films which can't be expected to be, but which are still worth making -- if you feel like making them.
Southern: There are always a few films which, after their initial round of distribution, start being recalled -- and this seems to be happening to Paths of Glory, as though it were becoming a sort of cinema-club classic.
Kubrick: Well, the owner of the New Yorker theatre called me the other day, for example, and said they didn't want to give him a print of the film. You see, the distributor gets about fifty bucks for renting a print, and so he doesn't even want to bother dragging it out of the vault. I mean they've got so many other things working for them they just don't want to be bothered.
Southern: Now, after Paths of Glory, you got involved with Brando's production of One-Eyed Jacks, which you were supposed to direct, I believe-- what happened there?
Kubrick: Well, we became friendly, you know, and he told me about this 'western' he was doing . . . and it's really a very long and involved story, but anyway we worked on it, the script, for about six months--Marlon, Calder Willingham, and myself . . . and Guy Trosper, Carlo Fiori, George Glass, Walter Seltzer, Frank Rosenberg. . .
Southern: I suppose it must have become apparent at one point that Brando wanted to direct the picture himself.
Kubrick: That became apparent, yes. . that I was there just as a sort of wing-man, you know, to keep him from getting shot down by the studio. It also became apparent that we were going to have extreme difficulty agreeing on the story, and...well, finally it just didn't seem that it could work out as far as my directing it was concerned.
Southern: Brando has been quoted as saying of you, "Stanley is unusually perceptive and delicately attuned to people. He has an adroit intellect and is a creative thinker, not a repeater, not a fact-gatherer,. he digests what he learns and brings to a new project an original point of view and a reserved passion." This being his attitude towards you, it seems strange that you should not have been able to work together on the film.
Kubrick: It's possible, of course, for two adroit, perceptive, delicately attuned people not to agree in any way, shape or form.
Southern: Well, from there you went to direct Sparticus--this is the only picture you've done, isn't it, where you weren't pretty much your own boss?
Kubrick: Yes, its the only picture I've worked on where I was employed--and in a situation like that the director has no real rights, except the rights of persuasion...and I've found that's the wrong end of the lever to be on. First of all, you very often fail to persuade, and secondly, even when you do persuade, you waste so much time doing it that it gets to be ridiculous.
Southern: Now that brings us to your chef d'oeuvre, Lolita. After the script was finished you began casting--and I imagine you must have looked at quite a few young girls. Did you actually look for a girl who was between 12 and 13?
Kubrick: Well, she had to be between 12 and 13 at the beginning, but between 16 and 17 at the end--I mean one girl who could play both parts--and we did look at quite a few young girls, some of them very young indeed. It was amazing how many parents would write in, you know, from Montana and so on, saying: "My daughter really is Lolita!"--that sort of thing. But we looked at them all, and of course, Sue Lyon was just one of them--but the moment we saw her, we through 'My God, if this girl can act--because she had this wonderful, enigmatic, but alive quality of mystery, but was still very expressive. Everything she did, commonplace things, like handling objects or crossing a room, or just talking, were all done in a very engaging way...and, incidentally this is a quality which most great actors have, it's a strange sort of personal unique style that goes into everything they do--like when Albert Finney sits down in a chair and drinks a bottle of beer, and, well, it's just great and you think 'God, I wish I could drink a bottle of beer like that,' or the way Marlon, you know, pushes his sun-glasses on his forehead and just leaves them there instead of putting them in his pocket...and, well, they all have ways of doing everyday things that are interesting to watch. And she had this, Sue Lyon--but of course, we still didn't know whether she could act. Then we did some scenes, and finally shot a test with Mason, and that was it--she was great.
Southern: And Mason--did he occur to you right away as the choice for Humbert?
Kubrick: Yes, I always thought he had just the right qualities for Humbert--you know, handsome but vulnerable...sort of easy-to-hurt and also a romantic--because that was true of Humbert, of course, that beneath that veneer of sophistication and cynicism, and that sort of affected sneer, he was terribly romantic and sentimental.
Southern: One of his big scenes, of course, is at the end, when Humbert finds Lolita again, and breaks down when he fails to persuade her to go away with him. This is a long and very complex scene--how long did it take to shoot it?
Kubrick: We shot that for twelve days. One of the things I wanted to get there, as completely as possible, was this element of disparity, which you see in life but practically never in film, where two people meet after a long time and one of them is still emotionally involved and the other one is simply embarrassed--and yet she wants to be nice, but the words just sort of plunk down, dead, and nothing happens...just sort of total embarrassment and incongruity.
Southern: For the film, you greatly expanded, or at least developed the role of Quilty, didn't you?
Kubrick: Yes, well, it was apparent that just beneath the surface of the story was this strong secondary narrative thread possible--because after Humbert seduces her in the motel, or rather after she seduces him, the the big question has been answered--so it was good to have this narrative of mystery continuing after the seduction.
Southern: This role, the role of Peter Sellers as Quilty, and his disgusted recurrance throughout the film, seems unique. I don't recall any other instance in movies of such an elaborate combination of the comic-grotesque--was this treatment derivative of something you had seen or read?
Kubrick: Well, that aspect of the picture interests me very much-- I've always thoughtt for example, that Kafka could be very funny, or actually is very funny -- I mean like a comic nightmare, and I think that Sellers in the murder scene, and in fact in the whole characterization, is like something out of a bad dream, but a funny one. I'm very pleased with the way that came off and I think it opens up an avenue, as far as I'm concerned, of telling certain types of stories in ways which haven't yet been explored in movies.
Southern: Now, this is an erotic film--I mean, in the sense that sexual love is necessarily treated, and is sometimes in the foreground of a dramatic scene. Do you have any particular theories about the erotic?
Kubrick: Only that I think the erotic viewpoint of a story is best used as a sort of energizing force of a scene, a motivational factor, rather than being, you know, explicitly portrayed. I thought, for instance, in Les Amants, when the guy's head slides down out of the frame, it was, well, just sort of funny--though it shouldn't have been...when you're watching it with an audience it just becomes laughable. I think it's interesting to know how one person makes it known to another person that they want to make love, and it's interesting to know what they do after they make love,--but while they're doing it, well, that's something else...it's such a subjective thing, and so incongruous to the audience that the effect is either one of vague embarrassment, or just the feeling of mischief on the part of the filmmaker.
Southern: In any case, since this was your own picture, there was no pressure on you to be overly prudent or anything like that?
Kubrick: None whatever. We had complete freedom about every aspect of the production.
Southern: You have some interesting double-entendre things in there -- like this "Camp Climax" for girls, and lines like: "Your uncle is going to fill my daughter's cavity on Thursday afternoon." Were there any objections to those?
Kubrick: No. And, of course, the general public is a good deal more sophisticated than most censors imagine--and certainly more so than these groups who get up petitions an so on can believe. After all, if a film is really obscene, it simply doesn't play in a theater, because the police of that city close it down--so that if a movie is playing, it's obviously not obscene...prevailing law-enforcement takes care of that, so there's really no point in those petitions. It's a matter for the courts.
Southern: How do you account for this increased sophistication on the part of film audiences?
Kubrick: Well, for the past few years, they've been getting used to better and better movies...Television was the best thing that ever happened to American movies, because it knocked out this middle-of-the-road mediocrity type picture which had so long dominated the field.
Southern: What do you think to the techniques and stated philosophy of the French New Wave directors--Vadim, Resnais, Truffaut--and of the reigning Italian directors: Fellini, Antonioni, De Sica, etc.?
Kubrick: Statements of philosophy aside, they've made some superb films.
Southern: What do you feel would be the best training ground for a movie director: television, the stage, or still photography, as in your case?
Kubrick: I don't know--the main thing is to want to make a film bad enough to get some sweet, trusting and insane friends or family to lend you the money to do so.
Southern: I understand that you often play music on the set, to help everyone get in a particular mood.
Kubrick: Yes, well, that was a device used, you know, by silent-film actors--they all had their own violinists, who would play for them during the takes, and even sort of direct them. And I think it's probably the easiest way to produce an emotion...which is really the actor's main problem--producing authentic emotion. We play it before the take, and if the dialogue isn't too important, during the take and then post-synchronize the dialogue--its amazing how quick this will work, and I mean making a movie is such a long, fragmented, dragging process, and you get into, say. about the ninth week, you're getting up every morning at 6:30, not enough sleep, probably no breakfast, and then at 9:15 you have to do something you feel about as far from doing as you possibly can...So it's a matter of getting in the right mood--and music I've found is the best for this, and practically everyone can respond to some piece or other.
Southern: What were the piece you used in making Lolita?
Kubrick: Well, there were a couple of bands of West Side Story that must have somehow been very important to Shelly Winters--we used those in her crying scene--and she would cry, very quickly, great authentic tears. And let's see, yeah, Irma la Douce, that would always floor Mason. And I've forgotten what Sue's was...a ballad by someone--not Elvis, but someone like that.
Southern: In making this film, do you feel you encountered any problems or considerations which were categorically different from those you've dealt with in other films?
Kubrick: Yes, I think the thing of gradually penetrating the surface of comedy which overlies the story into the, well, the ultimate tragic romance of it puts it in a category apart. And then, too, treatments of mood, subtleties and range of mood...I mean Lolita is really like a piece of music, a series of attitudes and emotions that sort of sweep you through the story.
Southern: I'd like to ask you now about your general attitude towards filmmaking, other than what you've already indicated--first, what particular advantages do you feel that films have over other media of expression and communication?
Kubrick: Well, for one thing I think it is fairly obvious that the events and situations that are most meaningful to people are those in which they are actually involved--and I'm convinced that this sense of personal involvement derives in large part from visual perception. I once saw a woman hit by a car, for example, or right after she had been hit, and she way lying in the middle of the road. I knew that at that moment I would have risked my life if necessary to help her...whereas if I had merely read about the accident or heard about it, it could not have meant too much. Of all the creative media I think that film is most nearly able to convey this sense of meaningfulness; to create an emotional involvement and a feeling of participation in the person seeing it.
Southern: Do you feel you have some specific goal or direction as an artist?
Kubrick: In making a film, I start with an emotion, a feeling, a sense of a subject or a person or a situation. The theme and technique come as a result of the material passing, as it were, through myself and coming out of the projector lens. It seems to me that simply striving for a genuinely personal approach, whatever it may be, is the goal -- Bergman and Fellini, for example, although perhaps as different in their out-look as possible, have achieved this, And I'm sure it is what gives their films an emotional involvement lacking in most work.
Southern: I understand that you cut and edit your own pictures -- don't you feel there are experienced editors who could do this?
Kubrick: I feel that the director, or the film-maker as I prefer to think of him, is wholly responsible for the film in its completed form. Making a film starts with the germ of an ideal continues through script, rehearsing, shooting, cutting music projection, and tax-accountants. The old fashioned major-studio concept of a director made him just another color on the producer's palette -- which also contained all the above "colors". Formerly, it was the producer who dipped into all the colors and blended the "masterpiece". I don't think it so surprising that it should now fall to the director.
Southern: Do you think that a young director, with new ideas, can get ahead in Hollywood--making films the way he wants to--without creating enemies?
Kubrick: I don't think you make enemies by doing films the way you want to do them; I think you make enemies by being rude, tactless and nasty to people.
Southern: You have won 'unreserved critical praise for a least three of your pictures. At 33 you have already directed one of the biggest pictures ever made. Will success spoil Stanley Kubrick?
Kubrick: Fifth Amendment.

Monday, 20 December 2021

O My Brothers and Only Friends


Marvin Wilson, 

Sanitarium Orderly 

[Reading from a dictionary, that has just been opened-up at the right entry by Someone ELSE.

"P-O-O-K-A. 

Pooka. From old Celtic mythology, a fairy spirit in animal form, always very large. 

The pooka appears here and there

now and then

to this one and that one. 

A benign but mischievous creature. 

Very fond of rumpots, crackpots, and How are You, Mr. Wilson?" 

[Inverts and shakes the dictionary

"How are you, Mr. Wilson?" 

Who in the encyclopedia wants to know?!?

Sunday, 19 December 2021

F For Fake: Chartres


“Ah, this has been standing here for centuries. The premier work of man perhaps in the whole Western world, and it’s without a signature: Chartres. A celebration to God’s glory and to the dignity of man. All that’s left, most artists seem to feel these days, is man. Naked, poor, forked radish. There aren’t any celebrations. Ours, the scientists keep telling us, is a universe which is disposable. You know, it might be just this one anonymous glory of all things, this rich stone forest, this epic chant, this gaiety, this grand, choiring shout of affirmation, which we choose when all our cities are dust, to stand intact, to mark where we have been, to testify to what we had it in us to accomplish.

Our works in stone, in paint, in print, are spared, some of them for a few decades or a millennium or two, but everything must finally fall in war or wear away into the ultimate and universal ash. The triumphs and the frauds, the treasures and the fakes. A fact of life. We’re going to die. 

‘Be of good heart,’ cry the dead artists out of the living past. Our songs will all be silenced — but what of it? Go on singing. Maybe a man’s name doesn’t matter all that much.

DESCENT OF THE GODDESS ISHTAR INTO THE LOWER WORLD

 

DESCENT OF THE GODDESS ISHTAR 

INTO THE LOWER WORLD


From The Civilization of Babylonia and Assyria

M. Jastrow, 1915

Jews & Berries





To the land of no return, the land of darkness,
Ishtar, the daughter of Sin directed her thought,
Directed her thought, Ishtar, the daughter of Sin,
To the house of shadows, the dwelling, of Irkalla,
To the house without exit for him who enters therein,
To the road, whence there is no turning,
To the house without light for him who enters therein,
The place where dust is their nourishment, clay their food.'
They have no light, in darkness they dwell.
Clothed like birds, with wings as garments,
Over door and bolt, dust has gathered.
Ishtar on arriving at the gate of the land of no return,
To the gatekeeper thus addressed herself:

"Gatekeeper, ho, open thy gate!
Open thy gate that I may enter!
If thou openest not the gate to let me enter,
I will break the door, I will wrench the lock,
I will smash the door-posts, I will force the doors.
I will bring up the dead to eat the living.
And the dead will outnumber the living."


The gatekeeper opened his mouth and spoke,
Spoke to the lady Ishtar:
"Desist, O lady, do not destroy it.
I will go and announce thy name to my queen Ereshkigal."


The gatekeeper entered and spoke to Ereshkigal:
"Ho! here is thy sister, Ishtar ...
Hostility of the great powers ...
When Ereshkigal heard this,
As when one hews down a tamarisk she trembled,
As when one cuts a reed, she shook:
"What has moved her heart [seat of the intellect] what has stirred her liver [seat of the emotions]?
Ho there, does this one wish to dwell with me?
To eat clay as food, to drink dust as wine?
I weep for the men who have left their wives.
I weep for the wives torn from the embrace of their husbands;
For the little ones cut off before their time.
Go, gatekeeper, open thy gate for her,
Deal with her according to the ancient decree."
The gatekeeper went and opened his gate to her:
Enter, O lady, let Cuthah greet thee.

Let the palace of the land of no return rejoice at thy presence!

He bade her enter the first gate, which he opened wide, and took the large crown off her head:
"Why, O gatekeeper, dost thou remove the large crown off my head?"
"Enter, O lady, such are the decrees of Ereshkigal."

The second gate he bade her enter, opening it wide, and removed her earrings:
"Why, O gatekeeper, dost thou remove my earrings?"
"Enter, O lady, for such are the decrees of Ereshkigal."

The third gate he bade her enter, opened it wide, and removed her necklace:
"Why, O gatekeeper, dost thou remove my necklace? "
"Enter, O lady, for such are the decrees of Ereshkigal."

The fourth gate he bade her enter, opened it wide, and removed the ornaments of her breast:
"Why, O gatekeeper, dost thou remove the ornaments of my breast? "
"Enter, O lady, for such are the decrees of Ereshkigal."
The fifth gate he bade her enter, opened it wide, and removed the girdle of her body studded with birthstones.
"Why, O gatekeeper, dost thou remove the girdle of my body, studded with birth-stones?"
"Enter, O lady, for such are the decrees of Ereshkigal."
The sixth gate, he bade her enter, opened it wide, and removed the spangles off her hands and feet.
"Why, O gatekeeper, dost thou remove the spangles off my hands and feet?"
"Enter, O lady, for thus are the decrees of Ereiihkigal."
The seventh gate he bade her enter, opened it wide, and removed her loin-cloth.
"Why, O gatekeeper, dost thou remove my loin-cloth ?"
"Enter, O lady, for such are the decrees of Ereshkigal."
Now when Ishtar had gone down into the land of no return,
Ereshkigal saw her and was angered at her presence.
Ishtar, without reflection, threw herself at her [in a rage].
Ereshkigal opened her mouth and spoke,
To Namtar, her messenger, she addressed herself:
"Go Namtar, imprison her in my palace.
Send against her sixty disease, to punish Ishtar.
Eye-disease against her eyes,
Disease of the side against her side,
Foot-disease against her foot,
Heart-disease against her heart,
Head-disease against her head,
Against her whole being, against her entire body."
After the lady Ishtar had gone down into the land of no return,
The bull did not mount the cow, the ass approached not the she-ass,
To the maid in the street, no man drew near
The man slept in his apartment,
The maid slept by herself.

[The second half of the poem, the reverse of the tablet, continues is follows:]

The countenance of Papsukal, the messenger of the great gods, fell, his face was troubled.
In mourning garb he was clothed, in soiled garments clad.
Shamash [the sun-god] went to Sin [the moon-god], his father, weeping,
In the presence of Ea, the King, he went with flowing tears.
"Ishtar has descended into the earth and has not come up. The bull does not mount the cow, the ass does not approach the she-ass.
The man does not approach the maid in the street,
The man sleeps in his apartment,
The maid sleeps by herself."
Ea, in the wisdom of his heart, formed a being,
He formed Asu-shu-namir the eunuch.
Go, Asu-shu-namir, to the land of no return direct thy face!
The seven gates of the land without return be opened before thee,
May Eresbkigal at sight of thee rejoice!
After her heart has been assuaged, her liver quieted,
Invoke against her the name of the great gods,
Raise thy head direct thy attention to the khalziku skin.
"Come, lady, let them give me the khalziku skin, that I may drink water out of it."
When Ereshkigal heard this, she struck her side, bit her finger,
Thou hast expressed a wish that can not be granted.
Go, Asu-sbu-iaamir, I curse thee with a great curse,
The sweepings of the gutters of the city be thy food,
The drains of the city be thy drink,
The shadow of the wall be thy abode,
The thresholds be thy dwelling-place;
Drunkard and sot strike thy cheek!"
Ereshkigal opened her mouth and spoke,
To Namtar, her messenger, she addressed herself.
"Go, Namtar, knock at the strong palace,
Strike the threshold of precious stones,
Bring out the Anunnaki, seat them on golden thrones.
Sprinkle Ishtar with the waters of life and take her out of my presence.
Namtar went, knocked at the strong palace,
Tapped on the threshold of precious stones.
He brought out the Anunnaki and placed them on golden thrones,
He sprinkled Ishtar with the waters of life and took hold of her.
Through the first gate he led her out and returned to her her loin-cloth.
Through the second gate he led her out and returned to her the spangles of her hands and feet
Through the third gate he led her out and returned to her the girdle of her body, studded with birth-stones.
Through the fourth gate he led her out and returned to her the ornaments of her breast.
Through the fifth gate he led her out and returned to her her necklace.
Through the sixth gate he led her out and returned her earrings.
Through the seventh gate he led her out and returned to her the large crown for her head.


[The following lines are in the form of an address -apparently to some one who has sought release for a dear one from the portals of the lower world.]

"If she (Ishtar) will not grant thee her release,
To Tammuz, the lover of her youth,
Pour out pure waters, pour out fine oil;
With a festival garment deck him that he may play on the flute of lapis lazuli,
That the votaries may cheer his liver. [his spirit]
Belili [sister of Tammuz] had gathered the treasure,
With precious stones filled her bosom.
When Belili heard the lament of her brother, she dropped her treasure,
She scattered the precious stones before her,
"Oh, my only brother, do not let me perish!
On the day when Tammuz plays for me on the flute of lapis lazuli, playing it for me with the porphyry ring.
Together with him, play ye for me, ye weepers and lamenting women!
That the dead may rise up and inhale the incense."

Friday, 17 December 2021

Don’t Say “Franchise”, Kid.







Buster Blues :
It smells like Dogsh*t in here.

Elwood Blues :
Don’t Say “Shit”, Kid.

Thursday, 16 December 2021

Captain Tilly







Captain TILLY :
Any sign of Osyraa? 


Nothing. 

Captain TILLY
How did she even find us? 

BOOK :
If she wants your spore drive, 
she’s probably been tracking it. 

DETMER
You mean scanning for our jump signature? 

BOOK
She’d have gotten a read on it back at Kwejian. 

Captain TILLY :
Why didn’t she fire on us? 

BOOK
It’s not like her. 
Whatever she’s got planned, I’m guessing 
she’ll need us whole to make it work. 

Captain TILLY :
Engineering, what’s the status on shields? 

STAMETS
30 more minutes before we can jump. 

BRYCE
Uh, we’re being hailed. 
It’s Osyraa. 

Captain TILLY :
Tell Stamets we need shields in ten. 
Put her through. 

BRYCE
On screen. 

Osyraa :
Where’s The Captain? 

Captain TILLY :
I’m acting Captain. 

Osyraa :
(laughs
The Kelpien left you in charge? 

Captain TILLY :
Damn straight. 
I’m kind of busy right now, 
so could you get to The Point? 


Osyraa :
You are not really captain material


Captain TILLY :
Oh, nice try. 
You don’t know anything about me. 

Osyraa :
Oh, sure I do. 

Everybody’s Friend, right? 
Good with people, team player. 

But deep down in that 
pretty little heart of yours, 
you know that you’re just a fraud

How am I doing? 


Captain TILLY :
Mm, a certain 19th-century Earth neurologist 
would say that you’ve just proven 
the idea of Projection 
You tell me I’m a fraud 
because deep down inside, 
You kind of feel like a fraud. 

It’s interesting
It’s not just a human 
defence mechanism — It’s Galactic

Osyraa :
Don’t test me, Red. 

Captain TILLY :
Okay, we’ll skip Freud. 
What do you want? 

Osyraa :
Your ship, Your Spore Drive 
and Your Crew as Leverage. 

Captain TILLY :
Oh, no. Not gonna happen. 
You will not take this ship 
or anyone on it. 
Not now. Not ever. No.