Your boss gave you this factory.
What do you think of its gesture?
The true hero in all that, it is your boss.
Does not deprive to you it of the hope of a future revolution?
This is an insulated act
or it corresponds with a tendency of the modern world?
With a tendency of the modern world.
It seems to be a question of a news form race for the power.
This is not a first step
towards a transformation of the men as middle-class man?
The middle-class will never arrive to make men of the middle-class men.
Then, a middle-class man, by this gesture,
thus makes an error?
I cannot answer you.
The middle-class changes in a revolutionary way.
If the middle-class made of humanity a middle-class,
it would not have to triumph any more of a fight of class
neither with the army, nor the nation, nor the denominational Church.
And without natural allies, it would lose the fight.
You here in front new data all.
You must answer me...
TH?REME
Subtitles: Pierre KALFON
Video subtitling: C.M.C.
" And God led his people with the desert,, "
Arrive tomorrow,
Put to us music.
Then, you smell yourself better?
It is nothing.
It is not very comfortable.
What a invasion!
It is here that I slept, small.
Excuse me...
I am here
Excuse me...
Here are your friends.
You are a true sportsman.
What time is it thus?
I do not know
Which importance?
It is six hours!
It is about a sick man, like me
" In such a state, lvan Illitch found a consolation.
" Gu?assime was in charge of cleaning.
" It was a young peasant clean, healthy... "
Thank you.
What do you read?
" It was all its life
" the turn of kindness would be longer to reproduce that a star.
" the Adorable one who had gone at home
" did not return and will never return."
You are not like Gu?assime.
With you, the controversy is difficult.
Two reasons oblige me to speak to you.
The first, it is my moral direction.
And then, something of confused...
that I do not foresee clearly that by speaking you.
You allured me, my God! And I let myself make.
You forced me and you gained.
I am ris? of all,
one makes fun of me
Calumny howled, around me:
" Denounce it!" and you showed me.
My friends gueulaient my fall.
" ll will be surely let allure. Then we will overcome.
" We will take on him our revenge."
How?
You speak?
I am content.
I must from go away...
tomorrow.
I do not recognize myself any more.
What made me the equal one others does not exist any more.
I resembled to them, in spite of my defects.
Mine and those of my world.
You withdrew to me with the natural order of the things.
I did not realize there at the time of your stay.
I realize some, whereas you t'en go
By losing you, I take conscience of my diversity.
What will it occur of me?
of another myself,
who does not have anything commun run with me
The bottom should be touched of this diversity
that you revealed me,
and which is my true distressed nature?
Without wanting it,
I will not draw up all and all against me?
I never had...
of interest for nothing.
I do not speak major interests...
but simple, like those of my husband for his factory,
of my son for his studies, of my daughter for the family.
Me... Nothing.
I am unaware of how I could to support such a vacuum.
If there were something...
it was the instinctive love of a sterile life...
like a garden o?nobody passes more.
This vacuum was in fact full with erroneous values
and of a horrible tumble false ideas.
I realize there today.
You filled my life of a total and real interest.
Your departure does not destroy anything of what was in me,
except a reputation of pure middle-class woman.
What you, you brought to me:
I' Amour in the vacuum of my life
You destroy it while leaving me.
Our meeting made ego a normal girl.
I finally found a solution with my life
Front, I did not know anything the men.
I was afraid of it, I loved only my father.
Now, you me leashes... you precipitate me still further.
Is this that which you wanted? The pain to lose you
my relapse will cause,
more horrible that the evil which overpowered me
before the short cure had with your presence.
I had never detected this evil. Now, if!
By although you made me, I measured my evil
How to replace you?
Perhaps somebody...
I could not live any more.
You came here to destroy.
In me, this destruction is total.
You destroyed the idea that I was done myself.
I do not find anything now...
who can reinstate me in my identity.
What do you propose to me?
Such a scandal is similar with a civil death:
my total destruction.
How can arrive from there there a man trained for the order,
for the future, and especially for the possession?
Leave, I will carry it.
Not, I carry it.
want it you carry together?
You give me one meter?
It is been useful, Miss.
I can nothing make.
I am sorry.
Miss, please!
Loosen the fist, Miss Odetta.
Open your fist.
What a horror!
How I am idiot!
You are hungry?
Not, I do not eat
Eat something!
I do not want
You do not want to eat?
Say at least what you want to eat... speaks!
It is necessary to invent new techniques,
impossible to recognize,
who do not resemble with any existing operation,
to avoid the puerility of ridiculous,
to build a clean world,
without possible confrontation...
for which there does not exist measurements of judgement...
who must be new like the techniques.
No one should not include/understand that an author is not worth anything,
that it is abnormal, lower,
that like a worm, it twists and stretches itself to survive.
No one should not take it in sin of ingenuity.
All must appear perfect,
based on unknown rules...
thus, not questioned...
as at insane, yes, insane
Glass on glass, because I can nothing correct...
and no one should not realize some.
A sign on glass...
correct without dirtying it...
a sign paints before on another glass.
It is not necessary that one believes...
with the act of an incompetent,
of impotent.
This choice must appear sure,
solid, high and almost dominating.
No one should suspect only one sign is succeeded " by chance ".
" By chance ", it is horrible.
When a sign is successful, by miracle,
it is necessary immediately to keep, preserve it...
Nobody must realize some.
The author is a shivering idiot,
as petty as poor.
It lives in the chance and in the risk,
dishonoured like a child.
Its life is reduced with the melancholy and ridiculous...
a being which survives in the impression...
to have lost something for always.
With bottom states,
With bottom all churches,
Live that quipeint,
Blue is its portrait,
But blue suffitpas,
Blue is only one part,
Of which right I would make such a mutilation?
Which ideology lejustifier could?
I was not on the good way with my first portraits?
Look at...
what it became by eat nettles.
My God! What a scandal!
Afflicted, I do not smoke
Which is the road of Milan?
With left and straight.
What would arrive it if I decided...
to strip me of all and to give my factory to the workmen?
Let us go!
Afraid, I am not do not come here to die, but to cry.
My tears are not tears of pain.
They will form a source, who will not be
a source of pain.
Go goes... now.