Henry Fool Page #2

No.

Not yet. Soon. We'll see.

-Is it almost finished?

-In a piece of work like this, it's...

avocation like ours, it's...

you can't put a fence around a man's

soul. What I'm trying to achieve...

takes a lifetime, really.

It's a life's work.

But soon. Don't worry about it.

I'd appreciate your feedback.

I gotta go.

See you.

What are you

doing here, Simon?

I'm writing a poem.

So what? It's not so great.

Is that him?

Pardon me, Simon.

Look, I'm the editor of

a high-school newspaper...

One of the editors.

-One of the editors. And we...

-You.

I...

wanted to know if we can print

your poem in this month's issue.

Why?

-Because I think it's great.

-I don't.

-Who cares what you think?

-Geez, you're a drag!

-Well known drag.

-Please?

Mom, did you

take your medication?

I guess so.

Good evening, Fay.

What do you want?

I've got these

library books for Simon.

Leave them there

on the cabinet.

Where is he?

Henry?

Mommy!

Simon, are you

a registered voter?

This year, when you go to the polls,

consider congressman Owen.

He wants to restore America to its

position of unmatched wealth...

power and opportunity.

To revitalize

American civilization...

and lead the human race to even

greater levels of freedom...

prosperity and security.

He's a good man.

Immigrant.

Listen...

I know a man.

His name is Angus James, and he is a

big shot in the publishing business.

Smart, adventurous,

tons of integrity.

When the time is right, I'll

recommend he read your poem.

He'll respect my opinion.

That man was here again

today looking for you.

A man? What man?

You know. That guy.

Why do they torment me like this?

Why?

-They're like a bunch of mosquitoes.

-What do they want from you?

They want to suffocate me, Simon.

To extinguish me like a flame.

-Why?

-They're afraid. That's why.

They're afraid of what I might do.

What I might say, think!

They're afraid of my ideas. You

and I are alike in this way, Simon.

We are?

We are outsiders.

We think and feel too much and...

too deeply.

And the world can't handle that.

Our mere existence is a threat

to its illusion of security.

Sure, they'll name awing of

a library after us when we're dead.

But now where we are alive,

they want to burn us at the stake.

Look, Simon...

I made love to your mother

about half an hour ago...

and now I'm beginning to think that

maybe it wasn't such a good idea.

I mean to say that

I think Fay may be jealous.

I don't want

to think about this.

Bad move, Simon.

A poet's gotta be able

to contemplate anything.

Am I really a poet?

Of course you are.

A great poet.

But you need experience.

You need to do something

to be ashamed of once in awhile!

Come on. Let's go out.

Have you got any money?

That man is a bad influence.

To whom?

Simon.

-Hey, Simon. Wake up.

-What's that?

It's a computer.

You write on it.

-Here's the manual.

-Where did you get it?

I stole it. Now, listen. Remember we

discussed the need for cadence...

...to the readability of form.

-Sh*t. Not you again.

-I cannot work on these conditions.

-Yeah, get out of here, you freak!

-Get a life!

-Eat sh*t 'n' die, Henry!

Beast! Fiend! Rapist!

Oh, shut up, mom.

I am not a rapist.

Sh*t. Come on. This way.

Keep a lookout.

What's going on?

What's wrong?

I doubt.

So, you're an honest man.

Why beat yourself up about it?

I don't know if there are grounds

for faith. Is my vocation relevant?

Does it make a difference?

-A difference in what?

-The world. The way it is.

Is this away to

help relief suffering?

-Your vocation makes a difference.

-How can you be so sure?

Because vocation is the difference.

Only someone who cares doubts.

Listen, father.

Have you got any money?

Let's go have a drink.

-Are you a registered voter?

-I really don't know.

I could give you some information

about congressman Owen Feer.

This man will make a big difference

in the lives of every American.

-Pardon me, sir.

-F*** off!

Right.

What time does your mother get off?

Fay, are you a registered voter?

Don't you dare talk to me that way.

And keep your hands off my brother.

-Pearl, what are you doing here?

-I'm watching her.

-You and Vicky got back together?

-I got a regular job now.

I saw this retard

on TV this morning.

He's gonna be the next

president of the USA, Fay.

Keep dreaming, Warren.

The guy's a nazi.

-I like him.

-Give me a light.

He's a decent man.

He takes complicated issues...

and he totally simplifies them.

I appreciate that.

-You still sell dope?

-No.

You know what the problem

with this country is, Fay?

Me. I'm the problem. We live

in a culture of poverty and crime...

where the work ethic

is undermined...

and male responsibility

is made irrelevant.

Come on, Pearl.

Let's go play at my house.

If she gives you any trouble,

just let me know, Fay.

-What do you mean, you quit?

-I quit my job.

-Why?

-For things I want to do.

Like what?

Opportunity will step out of the

way to let a man pass it by.

-Are you drunk?

-Now you have to get a job.

I'm not getting a job.

-Who's gonna look after mom?

-I will.

If you treat mom

like a sick person...

she's gonna stay like,

you know, a sick person.

Mom can't be left alone with

no one to keep an eye on her.

Who's been keeping an eye on her

while you're out getting f***ed?

Simon?

What are you doing here?

Henry, your parole officer

came by again today.

He told me that if you don't call

him he'll put you back in jail.

-He wants you to call him!

-Simon?

He was talking to Mr. Deng too.

I was thinking...

Simon, just shut the f*** up!

Forgive me.

Forgive me, Simon.

Look, do me a favor.

Do you have a library card?

Check this out for me. Milton.

Seventeenth Century. English.

It's important my confession

dig up the past...

comb previous evidence, help chart

the historic and even the esthetic...

inevitability of my ideas.

This place is crawling with chicks!

Wander around.

Leer a little.

Feel them.

Pose yourself on them.

-Now, listen. I gotta go.

-Henry.

What did you do?

I got caught.

-How are you, Henry?

-Peachy. Get me a light?

Have you found a job?

How about those Alcoholics Anonymous

meetings? Have you gone over there?

What about that assistant librarian

position you were to set me up with?

I tried, Henry.

I really did.

-So, what happened?

-Henry, with your background...

I mean, your record,

they didn't think it would be right...

...to have you at the library.

-Why not?

They think you'd be

a bad influence on the kids.

Or worse.

So my word is not enough.

My promise, worthless.

The fact that I have served my time

Nothing but the emblem of my...

...continuing guilt.

-Apparently.

-What's that?

-Nothing.

I'm creating my resume.

This computer has got

a program especially for it.

Bought some special stationery too.

It's scented. Look.

It's roses.

Can you type my

poem into that thing?

-That's your poem?

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