Listen Up Philip Page #8

I hate you both.

- I have nothing to do with this.

- Oh, didn't you?

Go f*** yourself.

You've ruined this night for me.

OK, OK, OK. No, no.

It's over, it's over.

OK, you should go.

Go, go, go!

Thanks for coming.

- Bye.

- Bye.

Ike. What just happened?

I told you what she's like.

- I didn't think it was that...

- Yeah.

I'd completely forgotten she was here.

Oh, she can be such a b*tch sometimes.

To hell with her.

- Norm?

- Yes, sir.

Little drink for the road.

- Thank you.

- Huh?

- Here.

- Oh, thank you.

Smell that? '25.

All right, the good stuff.

Philip, I've, er...

I got something special for you.

I don't talk to her mother anymore.

Did I tell you that?

I guess I just sort of assumed it.

She asked me about it the other day.

I didn't know what to say to her.

Oh, God.

She can be such a pain in the ass.

Anyway, here's to us.

Cheers. Philip.

Seems like it's just you and me left now,

Norm, huh?

Oh, hey.

I forgot to tell you.

I saw this the other day.

Hmm?

The guy you were supposed to do

the journalism piece on, that snake?

It seems he took his own life.

- Jesus.

- Who is it? Who's that?

What's he called?

Josh Fawn, the writer.

I mean, I'm glad he's dead

and all, but...

Doing that interview would have been

a really great opportunity for me.

Last interviews are hard to get,

because you never know.

I know this guy. I like his work.

- I had lunch with him recently.

- You did?

- I did.

- You had lunch with him?

- Yes.

- Lunch, and, whoo!

Oh, well.

Erm... you know, I'm looking forward

to reading your work.

Hey, hey, hey, don't buy a copy.

I got plenty here.

You can have one of mine.

Anyway, listen...

I gotta go to bed, OK?

Old Ikey has got to get some rest.

Why don't you stay here tonight?

I've got a meeting at the college tomorrow.

You can drive me there.

- Erm...

- Is that good?

- Yeah.

- OK.

- I didn't bring a toothbrush.

- Good night, everybody.

Good night.

- Night.

- Good night to you.

- Norm.

- Take care.

Was a pleasure.

Take care.

- And...

- Be well.

- I can, I will be.

- Oh, well, don't look at that.

Jesus Christ.

You dick.

- Good one?

- Good enough.

Even looking at the girls here

brings on a cascade of conflicting emotions.

They're always gonna want more

than you're prepared to offer.

You remember that.

You'll learn it yourself one day,

if you haven't already.

What are you thinking about?

Are you thinking about what I just told you?

This place looks unforgiving.

Suffers in comparison to the guest room.

Well, the offer's still on the table.

Don't sit on the car.

Listen, this isn't the city.

They're a different breed

of snob up here.

It's academia.

Academia nuts.

I fail to understand the distinction.

Yeah, I do, too, sometimes.

It's been really awful.

I consider you my good friend.

I appreciate that.

But you'll soon find

how little that counts for.

I'm not referring to myself,

but there's a lot of a**holes out there.

Less up here than in the city,

but it's all relative.

You say it yourself. You don't see anybody.

You have no friendships.

And you have ruined every relationship

in which you ever could have found meaning.

Who?

Huh? Associates? Sycophants?

Who the f*** needs pissants like that?

Good riddance.

Me. Mom.

You don't know what the f***

you're talking about, as usual.

Why do you assume

that she never talked to me?

Oh, I'm sure she was only too eager

to fill your head with some inane,

fictitious bullshit.

But one thing I know for a fact,

you only got one version of events

told from the perspective of a very sad,

very lonely, pathetic woman.

You insult again.

This is my mother you're talking about.

And? Go on.

You talk about her like she's

some leech that sucked you dry.

Yeah, well, she would have done,

given half the chance.

Her and everyone else.

You know, she is my biggest regret, hmm?

The strongest and saddest proof

that you cannot change anyone,

and that your first instinct about them

will always be right.

Yeah, well, that just proves that you

yourself can't be changed, either.

Yeah, well, much to my chagrin,

I prove my own point.

I always try to lead by example...

To show everyone

how I can put aside preconceptions

and find new feelings, new ideas.

But the innate ineffability

of human disappointment

overcomes my faith every time.

- So, when you belittle me...

- "Belittle you"?

- I didn't even f***ing say anything to you.

- Yes!

- What are you talking about?

- "Belittle me"!

For my self-made disconnect

from those who want nothing from me

but to further their own

petty feelings of self-delusion.

Then you reinforce the degree to which

I saved myself from future disappointment

by cutting myself off

to the extent that I did!

Do you hear yourself?

'The emotions which arose

'from the spectacular confrontation

with his daughter

'enraged and excited Ike in such a way

as he no longer felt possible.

'Philip's unbridled respect

and reverence for his idol,

'compounded with his

youthful sense of rage and entitlement,

'had forced unwanted introspection

upon Ike.

'And what he saw was

a shamefully complacent old man,

'who had long since given up

the forcefulness

'that had once motivated him

to create some of his best work.

'The autumn months had brought about

an overwhelming sense of shame in Ike,

'as he tried and failed

to put out of his mind

'the vigour and dissatisfaction

that once drove him to succeed,

'replaced with frustration,

self-pity and disappointment.'

And of course, the frustrating thing is

to want to focus your energies

on something

that, well, at this point in my life,

should be something of an opus.

- A culmination.

- Right.

Could we swap seats?

I don't feel right sitting here.

I'd rather not sit in a pupil's chair

in my own office.

We can both sit over there,

or we can both stand.

I've had years of this sh*t.

How long did yours take?

Something like two years apiece.

Oh, God, I used to be faster than that.

Two years would be humiliating for me.

Well, for anyone.

I... I didn't mean it like that,

but you get the idea.

This could be so big for me.

Instead, I... I'm suffering here.

More than you could know

or I could possibly explain.

I just don't see anything clearly.

I'm trying to do my best here.

Oh, f*** it.

I should have this figured out by now.

Well, thank you for listening

to the sentimental and frustrated

ramblings of an old man.

- You've done a lot for me.

- I didn't do much.

No. But your work did.

That's true.

Bonjour, Yvette. a va?

- She's Yvette?

- Yeah.

'Yvette Dussart was entering

her third year on the faculty

'when she was informed that a young,

newly successful author from the city

'would be joining

the English department,

'which she took as a personal attack

on her territory,

'as it relieved her of the title

of youngest faculty member,

'a distinction from which she derived

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