Filth and Wisdom Page #4

- Naughty.

A naughty little boy. Say it.

- Naughty.

- Naughty little boy.

Ah! Not that hard. Ow! Stop it.

F***ing hell.

Two men fall through the chimney.

One is dirty, one is clean.

Which one needs to take a bath?

You need to take a bath.

And stop sneaking around

like some perv.

Why don't you just tell her?

How can you take that dude seriously

when he stopped getting laid

when he was 32?

Sex isn't everything.

It is in Africa.

You're a sick man.

Thank you. Finally.

I traveled seven seas

to hear this, you know?

And you traveled nowhere

and you're lost.

Just don't get everyone lost with you.

By appointment only.

- I'm here to speak to Miss Juliette.

- That's also by appointment.

Do you beat her?

Only if she pays me.

Look at you, you piece of scum.

Know how lucky you are

to have a girl like this?

You should bloody well treat her better.

With izat. You know, respect.

Is that right, randy Gandhi?

You bloody foreigner,

don't you talk to me like that.

Sardeep?

Hello.

Juliette.

He's all right. Let him in.

How are you? You okay?

- Fine, thank you.

- Good.

Please forgive me for saying

those horrible, horrible things to you.

You're a very nice girl, Juliette,

and I really want to make it up to you.

Well, bloody open it.

"Dear Miss Honan.

Thank you for your interest

in the Peace Corps.

Your application has been accepted,

and we are delighted to offer you

a post in Nairobi

working as part of

the health-care program

that focuses on children

orphaned by AIDS."

Oh, my god, Sardeep.

- I don't understand. I didn't...

- I did.

And I hope you don't mind

I forged your bloody signature.

And you're going to need one of these.

Oh, thank you.

- How much do I owe you?

- Oh, nothing, nothing.

My charity can was heavier than yours.

Oh, my... Thank you so much.

Oh, Juliette.

I so wish I was coming with you.

It's going to be wonderful

with all those black, African,

undernourished, skinny, skinny,

rickety children.

Oh, Juliette,

you're such a wonderful girl.

- Oh, look what dragged in the cat.

- All right, Russki. Is the schoolgirl in?

Yeah, yeah, she is in her room

skinning foxes.

Making you a nice new

Russian hat, is she?

Everyone east of Berlin

is making fur Russian hats for KGB...

Oh, excuse me.

Am I interrupting something?

No, no, that's all right.

This is for Holly.

She forgot her tips last night.

I am her manager.

Yes, my little slut.

I heard that, man-whore.

Envelopes, envelopes.

Everybody's getting envelopes.

Where the f*** is my envelope?

They're just in.

Only when you eat a lemon

do you appreciate what sugar is.

Life is a paradox,

but is it, really?

Is the contradictions within and

around us really a form of dissonance,

or just another word for "accord"

in a language we are yet to discover.

A language we're yet to learn.

A language we have been deprived of.

We live in a mistaken world,

and it doesn't have to be so.

You can be an academic and come

to this realization by reading books,

or you can discover

this new rebel intelligence

by waking up in your own vomit.

Either way, you cannot lose.

Without filth,

there can be no wisdom.

Without darkness, no light.

In my country we have a saying:

If the devil is powerless,

send him a woman.

Oh, I forgot.

This came for you

in the post yesterday.

And then, I get my envelope.

Yeah, yeah, who the f*** am I?

But this song, the next song

is dedicated to a dead poet.

Oh, you know it's easy for a

soul-searcher to leave his hometown,

where the folks bang their head

and figure much,

men like Kierkegaard and Nietzsche.

All these poor bastards that

never even get laid are taken seriously.

Like, what the f*** can you

learn from them?

Like, where is the true artistic gurus?

Well, I prefer madmen,

like this bum on the street.

I met the other day

Who says, "That's so, like,

battles of the rose."

Well, some of them are from the east.

And some of them are from the west

Just need to charge one another

And stick it closer to the center

Where some kind of

Mystical cross-pollination

Going on

Creating something out of nothing

Like works of art or the religion

Straight out of nothing

My strange uncles from abroad

Yes, I never met them, ooh

I took everything they wrote

And I'll never forget them, ooh

Through the mystical communication

Deep within it all comes through

Forming underground railroad

For our ultimate breakthrough

My strange nephews from beyond

I'll meet them on a cosmos street

And we will drink

To how we never told you

Don't trust a plastic beat

Through the mystical communication

Deep within it all comes through

Forming underground railroad

For our ultimate breakthrough

Bright open eyes

They are still looking

They are still finding

A few unpoisoned hearts

No matter where you are exiled

No matter where you are exiled!

Straight out of nothing.

Straight out of nothing.

You see, my friend, feeling good

is just as contagious as feeling bad.

Two sides of a same coin.

The lesson.

So if your ship comes in, ohuenno.

Let's get as many people

onboard as possible.

We're all in the same pizdetz

boat here, and if it sinks,

we're all going down together.

Extra maximum, double radical

respect straight out of Ukraine

to my new neighbor

who jam, rewind.

When I die?

When I die.

I don't know, but when I die...

Uh...

- Straight to f***ing hell, man.

- And action.

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