Smart People Page #6

by the New Yorker.

With Lawrence's book it may seem like

bringing the other three candidates

to campus is a waste of time.

But according to the bylaws,

we have to.

What about his recommendation letter?

Lawrence, could you

tell us about your book?

It's an examination of critical theory

from the standpoint that

every school of criticism has failed us.

I start out with a brief history

of criticism, then I...

Penguin Group seems to like it.

Sh*t.

I heard about the New Yorker.

Why didn't you tell me

about the poem?

I... I...

- I need to read it.

- You need to read it?

Now that I sold a poem to

the New Yorker,

I'm suddenly worthy of your attention?

What's wrong with a father wanting

to hear about his son's success?

What are those doing here?

- He left those here last night.

- Are you working for him now?

No. I'm not working for him.

He left it here last night.

He left his sweater, too. Hold on.

I thought that Chuck

was staying at his girlfriend's.

He doesn't have a girlfriend.

He stays here a few nights every week

to get away from you guys.

You have no idea

what's going on, do you?

How's your head? Douchebag.

So dinner will be ready at 8:00,

if you're around.

Those jeans look really great.

And they're really snug

in all the right areas.

Don't say things like that to me.

- Why, I'm just...

- Just don't.

So what is the lotus?

Homer calls it a "honey-sweet fruit."

For Tennyson, it's not just a drug, is it?

It symbolizes a desire

for rest and death.

But what does it inspire in them?

They're tired

and they can't take it anymore.

The lotus is about the

possibility of oblivion.

What your CliffsNotes

may not have mentioned is that

the eating of the lotus

occasions a song.

I didn't use CliffsNotes.

You used SparkNotes.

I read them, too.

So where did their singing lead them?

Singing lets them imagine

their way out of their misery.

Since they can't go home,

they sing of home

as the place where all the suffering is.

The song becomes the doleful music

of the miserable world

they no longer occupy, then

they just sit around listening to it,

drinking nectar and stuff.

Hey, Lawrence, got a minute?

Can I read you something?

"In all my years of schooling,

"I've never encountered a professor

as deeply passionate about his subject

"as Professor Wetherhold was

"back when I took his Victorian novel

course as a freshman.

"He pushed us hard,

but he believed in us

"and helped us become strong,

close readers and critical writers,

"skills I've brought

to my study of medicine.

"Sincerely, Janet Hartigan, M.D."

Professor Wetherhold,

I have a simple question.

Why do you want to be

head of the English department?

I've been thinking

about that quite a bit lately.

As head of the department,

how do you plan on rectifying

the systematic subjugation

of women in this institution?

Julia, I haven't even vaguely

considered that, nor do I plan to.

You know what? None of you like me,

and I don't blame you.

I would make a lousy

head of the department.

What this department needs is

someone who likes to manage people,

who can make small talk.

And that's...

I can't do that.

That's not me. I can't do it.

Sorry I wasted your time.

I'll just stick to teaching for now.

So where's your girlfriend?

Been hiding out here?

- Bye.

- See you, Chelsea.

Can we talk?

Everyone in my life is going crazy.

You're the one that's crazy.

And socially retarded.

You're the middle-aged man who was

just hosting a college beer bash.

You know,

Vanessa's becoming an android.

A scary clone, no friends,

too scared to be anything else.

Just like you.

And you constantly

take her for granted.

I do not take her for granted.

I am continually impressed by her.

Did you know she was

going to Stanford?

Early acceptance, last November.

- Why didn't she tell me?

- Why does she have to?

Why don't you ask?

You drove the hot doctor

out of your life.

She left me.

She can't handle my success.

We're just not compatible.

You have the IQ of a dumb-ass ant.

But you know what?

Maybe it's not going to be so bad.

Vanessa's going away in the fall.

It'll just be the two of us,

the Wetherhold bachelors.

Middle-aged, can't get along

with women, should be gay...

What are you doing here?

If you've come to tell me

that I can't go to Stanford,

then you can just forget it.

I don't care. I don't care if it's free.

I'm not going to

the same school as James.

He sold a poem to the New Yorker.

Even cretins win the lottery sometimes.

I won't be head of the department.

- I pulled myself out of the search.

- Insane.

- What are you trying to do to me?

- Just relax.

My book,

that dumbed-down,

gimmicky travesty of scholarship,

will pay for Stanford.

Satisfied?

What's going on between

you and Chuck?

Nothing.

It's just miscommunication.

A simple case of middle-aged loser

trying to seduce

his much younger,

bound-for-success niece.

I don't think you're very happy,

Vanessa.

Well, you're not happy,

and you're my role model.

You know what?

I've had a monumentally shitty day.

You hate me. I get it.

End of discussion.

I don't hate you.

You know what? I don't really get it.

I don't get that you spend the first

few months trying to win me over,

which you do,

and then make up some fake girlfriend

and completely ditch me.

Well, that's not entirely

the whole story, is it?

Not really, I guess.

You know, when I moved in,

I thought you were smart and funny.

I'm sorry that you misunderstood that.

But I'll let you get back to that.

What are you gonna do?

- Go in my room. Do 1,000 pushups.

- Wow.

What are you going to do

with your life?

Just, you know, sell phone cards?

Right.

It is pretty good money.

- Sure.

- But I know what you mean.

You know, I like my life.

Yeah, we're like friends, I guess, right?

Yeah, we're friends.

Can you make me

something to eat, friend?

Order pizza, with the works.

Wake up! I need to run

a few errands before school.

Wake up.

If only we loved us like before

There would be more

If only the scars would disappear

Verbal surgery

Hello.

If only we could have seen the smoke

Simple warning

Hold on, I want... I want that.

May I have a tax receipt?

There you go.

Love come back save the day

Thanks, bro. It was starting to get

a little cold out here.

You sat on the right side and

you didn't throw up! Good work!

Pull over, up here.

Now, remember, four words.

"I'm sorry. I love you."

That's five words.

This is no time to count words,

Professor.

Hey!

Don't forget, "I'm sorry! I love you!"

What'd he say?

I love you, too, man!

Hey, where you going!

- May I sit down?

- Sure.

- How are you?

- I'm good. How are you?

- I'm...

- How's the book coming?

Thank you for this.

I didn't write it.

You should check with Vanessa,

she does good work,

though the signature's not even close.

This is humiliating. I'll see you.

Wait. Wait, wait. Wait.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes