I'm Not There. Page #8

And they are.

They each have access

to different kinds of pain,

which is pretty much

why chicks can never be poets.

- Jesus!

- What?

Robbie, please,

you're not serious.

That's the most

preposterous thing I've ever heard.

Emily Dickinson.

No, that's not the same.

As what?

Whitman, Rimbaud, Shakespeare.

Grace is...

she's really big into Women's Lib.

Guys and chicks

are different, I'm sorry.

I cannot believe you're actually

saying these things.

I cannot believe you actually think

that women are incapable of...

Okay, okay, okay.

Let's try something, huh?

You write down the nastiest thing

you can think of,

and I'll write down the nastiest thing

I can think of, and...

- What?

- We'll compare.

- But what does that prove?

- Just do it.

- No.

- Claire, sit down.

No!

- No, no, no! I want to know...

- Come on, honey.

Play the game!

I want to know what this thing is

that women cannot experience or...

Cut the f***ing snaps!

Or write about or talk about

or what, put on paper?

What is this place?

Do you own this place?

Did you invent it?

Uh, no, honey, I don't.

Claire, come on,

you're missing the point completely.

I- I worship women.

Everybody should have one.

- Yeah, fine.

- Claire!

Claire, come on. I was kidding.

Hey, God's a woman.

Claire.

Hey!

F*** you, man!

What are you, f***ing deaf?

I told you to stop f***ing doing that.

F***.

What?

What?

Nothing.

You've changed.

Yeah. F*** right, I've changed.

All of this... these new clothes,

new car, these shades.

You'd never wear sh*t like that before.

Man, you tell me I've changed

as if that's all there is to say,

you know,

in this completely different voice

than the one you had

ten minutes ago.

You know, kids shooting craps

in an L.A. Garage pot,

and you say nothing's perfect.

I say it again:
There are no politics.

Right.

Well, then, what the f*** is there?

Huh?

Sign language.

No town ever loved Halloween

like the town of Riddle.

So who a fellow really was never really

mattered.

Not with what pretending had to offer.

It was my kind of town.

Hey, guys!

You should've seen me.

I come in like a Ferris wheel,

and, boys, I sure was slick.

What the heck

are you supposed to be?

Well, if you don't know,

I'm not gonna tell you.

# Your back is straight,

your hair is smooth #

# On the pillow where you lie #

# But I don't sense affection #

# No gratitude or love #

# Your loyalty is not to me #

# But to the stars above #

# One more cup of coffee 'fore I go #

# One more cup of coffee 'fore I go #

# To the valley below #

Chester?

- Billy.

- Mr. McCarty.

Ma'am.

So what's with all this

doomsday hocus-pocus going on?

# One more cup of coffee for the road #

# One more cup of coffee 'fore I go #

You two taking a trip?

# To the valley below #

Seven simple rules for life in hiding.

One...

never trust a cop in a raincoat.

Two...

beware of enthusiasm and of love.

Each is temporary and quick to sway.

Three...

when asked if you care

about the world's problems,

look deep into the eyes of he who asks.

He will not ask you again.

Pack up the meat, sweet.

It's king for king

and queen for queen.

Afternoon, Mr. McCarty.

George, Delia.

Number four and five...

- Good afternoon, Billy.

- Howdy, Mr. B.

- Good morning.

... never give your real name.

Afternoon,

Mr. Gladstone, sir.

Hey. Hey, hey.

What are you doing?

What are you doing?

Hey!

Hey, you all right, son?

Please, dear man,

you gotta get me outta here.

This here's chicken town.

And if ever told to look at yourself...

never look.

His singing voice, asthmatic and whiny,

makes his success

at first seem inconceivable,

but for so many

of his ardent admirers,

- Quinn's simple raggedness...

- Here we go.

...was always the sound of his truth.

Could you pass me that?

In it, they could conjure

all the hard knocks

his rough and tumble story implies,

all the honest struggles

their far more conventional backgrounds

deny them.

Jesus.

- On the other hand...

- This guy's an a**hole.

If Quinn's recent foray

into electronic music

has raised doubts concerning

his sincerity in the past,

the startling truth behind

his famously clouded origins

is sure to close the book

once and for all

on his future.

Six...

never say or do anything

the person standing in front of you

cannot understand.

For, despite his unwashed, freewheelin'

credentials,

and contrary to anything he's ever stated,

the real Jude Quinn...

suburban, middle class, educated...

is as conventional as they come.

The eldest son

of a Brookline, Massachusetts,

department store owner,

the real name of America's

backwoods vagabond

turned rock-and-roll martyr

is Aaron Jacob Edelstein.

And seven...

never create anything.

It will be misinterpreted.

It will chain you and follow you

for the rest of your life.

And it will never change.

# Hollis Brown #

# He lived on the outside of town #

# Hollis Brown #

# He lived on the outside of town #

Behold the hole of the tarantula.

Revenge sits black on your back.

And wherever you bite,

black scabs grow.

# He lived with his wife

and five children #

# And his cabin #

# Broken #

# Down #

# Down #

# Down #

# Down #

# Down #

For that man

be delivered from revenge,

that for me is the highest hope.

A rainbow after a storm.

Girls, Molly...

I want you to take everything

up to your room, okay?

I'll be up in two minutes for your baths.

Yes?

You sound out of breath.

Oh, so you're back?

Today.

How are the girls?

They're great.

Busy. Enjoying school.

That's great.

And you?

Fine. We're all fine.

So, um, which night is boat night?

Saturday?

- Hello?

- Uh, yeah.

Saturday, that's, um...

day after tomorrow.

Yep.

That's fine.

Mommy, who are you talking to?

All right, so what time?

Uh, 11:
00?

Fine.

Mommy, who are you talking to?

Molly, what did I tell you about pickup?

- Upstairs...

- Or I can get 'em earlier, just...

No, no, no, it's fine, fine.

But please bring those boxes, okay?

- I've asked you, like...

- Wait, what boxes?

The photos. My photos?

- I've asked you, like...

- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Fine. Fine, fine.

Molly!

Okay, I gotta go.

Uh, welcome back.

Thanks...

That's right, my friends.

I am holding the only true account,

so buy it here, read it there.

Buy it here, read it there.

Buy it here, read it there.

An epic tale of blunder and despair,

a withering saga

of mystery unveiled,

a swan song to America

before Chaplin set sail

or the children of dawn in crazy duress

ever watched the red sun

without bothering to dress.

Buy it here, read it there!

An epic tale of blunder and despair,

a withering saga of mystery unveiled,

a swan song to America

before Chaplin set sail

and the children of dawn

in crazy duress...

Thief! Somebody stop that man!

Stop!

No!

# I'm goin' down #

# To Rose Marie #

# She never does me wrong #

# She puts it to me #

# Plain as day #

# And gives it to me for a song #

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