The Pervert's Guide To Cinema Page #22

But they have one thing you haven't got.

A diploma!

Therefore, by virtue of the authority vested in me

by the Universitatus Committeeatum

e plurbis unum,

I hereby confer upon you

the honorary degree of Th.D.

- Th.D.?

- That's Doctor of Thinkology.

The sum of the square roots

of any two sides of an isosceles triangle

is equal to the square root of the remaining side.

Oh, joy, rapture! I've got a brain!

And that's the paradox of cinema,

the paradox of belief.

We don't simply believe or do not believe.

We always believe

in a kind of a conditional mode.

I know very well it's a fake but, nonetheless,

I let myself be emotionally affected.

How do you do?

Mr Carl Laemmle feels it would be

a little unkind to present this picture

without just a word of friendly warning.

We are about to unfold the story of Frankenstein,

a man of science, who sought to create

a man after his own image

without reckoning upon God.

Somebody tells us

you have to experience horror, we do it.

So if any of you feel that you do not care

to subject your nerves to such a strain,

now is your chance to... Well, we've warned you.

Ladies and gentlemen, young and old,

this may seem an unusual procedure,

speaking to you before the picture begins.

But we have an unusual subject.

Behind, not red, this is Hollywood,

but black curtain,

Cecil DeMille himself appears,

giving us a lesson of how

the story of ten commandments and Moses

has great relevance today where we are fighting

communist, totalitarian danger

and so on, giving us all the clues.

Are men the property of the state?

Or are they free souls under God?

This same battle continues

throughout the world today.

This hidden master who controls the events

can also be defined as ideology embodied,

in the sense of the space

which organises our desires.

And your name? What the f*** is your name?

In David Lynch's Lost Highway,

we have the Mystery Man,

who stands for the very cinematographer,

even director.

Imagine somebody who has

a direct access to your inner life,

to your innermost fantasies,

to what even you don't want to know

about yourself.

We've met before, haven't we?

I don't think so.

Where was it that you think we met?

At your house, don't you remember?

The best way to imagine what Mystery Man is,

is to imagine somebody

who doesn't want anything from us.

What do you mean? You're where right now?

At your house.

That's f***ing crazy, man.

Call me.

That's the true horror of this Mystery Man.

Not any evil, demoniac intentions and so on.

Just the fact that when he is in front of you,

he, as it were, sees through you.

I told you I was here.

How'd you do that?

Ask me.

- How'd you get inside my house?

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