Monday, March 6, 2023

THE DEVIL (Thomas Jay Ryan) 
The Book of Life by Hal Hartley

That's my problem. I can imagine all to well. I can imagine everything. A person's capacity for sacrifice, someone's life ruined by a simple misunderstanding, the possibility of disaster in just reaching out to shake someone's hand, the crippling of a person's self-esteem by an overheard remark. 

How can I be responsible for all that? Every intimacy engenders expectation and every expectation some unknown disappointment

If the world were only as large as this room okay sure then I'd be fine, but it's not.

The world is infinite, expansive, and full of possibility. It's debilitating.


JESUS (Martin Donovan)
The Book of Life by Hal Hartley

[After cancelling the Apocalypse]

To be there amongst them again was good. 

The innocent and the guilty all equally helpless and – as frightening as it was to admit – all deserving of forgiveness. 

What will become of them?

In a hundred years would they all be born in test tubes? 

Or perhaps evolved to computers and become disembodied digital intelligence machines?

Would they remember who I was? 

Would they remember what I said? 

Would it matter? 

Maybe someone else will come along and say pretty much the same thing. Would anyone notice?

In a hundred years would they be living on other planets? 

Would the earth still exist? 

Would they engineer themselves genetically so that disease would become a thing of the past? 

Would they all just become one big multi-ethnic race?

Would they discover the secret of the universe? 

And God? Would they become gods themselves?

What will they eat? 

What sort of houses will they live in? Cities? 

Would they still have to go to work everyday?

How smart will they get? 

And will being smarter make them happier?

Will they speak the same language?

Will they make love?

Will they still believe that life is sacred? 

Will it matter? 

Do we matter?

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