All language subtitles for The Twilight Zone (1959) - S02E29 - The Obsolete Man (1080p BluRay x265 ImE)

[THEME MUSIC PLAYING]

NARRATOR: You're traveling
through another dimension.

A dimension not only of
sight and sound, but of mind.

A journey into a wondrous land

whose boundaries are that of imagination.

That's the signpost up ahead.

Your next stop, the Twilight Zone.

MAN: Wordsworth, Romney.

Obsolescence.

He's waiting, Chancellor.

Order him in.

[OVER PA] Wordsworth, Romney.

Obsolescence.

NARRATOR: You walk
into this room at your own risk

because it leads to the future,

not a future that will
be, but one that might be.

This is not a new world.

It is simply an extension of
what began in the old one.

It has patterned itself
after every dictator

who has ever planted
the ripping imprint of a boot

on the pages of history
since the beginning of time.

It has refinements,
technological advances,

and a more sophisticated approach
to the destruction of human freedom.

But like every one of the
superstates that preceded it,

it has one iron rule:

Logic is an enemy, and truth is a menace.

This is Mr. Romney Wordsworth

in his last 48 hours on earth.

He's a citizen of the State, but
will soon have to be eliminated

because he's built out of flesh

and because he has a mind.

Mr. Romney Wordsworth,
who will draw his last breaths

in the Twilight Zone.

Wordsworth, Romney. Field
investigation finding: obsolescence.

Do you know why you're
here, Mr. Wordsworth?

Yes, sir.

I'd ask you to speak
up a little, if you will.

Yes, sir, I know why I'm here.

You've been under investigation

for the mandatory period of one year and
11 months. You're found to be obsolete.

The purpose of this hearing is
to make a finding in the matter

and make a sentence accordingly.
Do you understand that?

I understand that.

Your occupation, Mr. Wordsworth?

A librarian, sir.

[ONLOOKERS MURMUR, LAUGH]

A what?

A librarian, sir.

Has this man had counsel?

Yes, sir, he has.

Are you sure he knows his rights?

He's been given orientation, sir.

Mr. Wordsworth, I'm told that you've had

coun… stand back in
the light, Mr. Wordsworth!

I'm told you've had counsel and
been given orientation, Mr. Wordsworth,

but I'm still not sure
in my own mind that

you understand the
purpose of this hearing.

The field investigators in your sector
have classified you as "obsolete."

This finding carries with
it serious implications.

Do you understand that, Mr. Wordsworth?

Now I'll ask you again your occupation.

I am a librarian, sir. That is my
occupation. That is my profession.

If you people choose
to call that "obsolete…"

Request clarification of the term.

Yes, the term, Mr. Wordsworth, "you
people," you make reference to the State?

I make reference to the State.

You persist in declaring your occupation
as being a librarian. Is that correct?

That is correct, sir.

A librarian.

Having to do

with books.

Yes, sir, books.

But since there are no more books,

Mr. Wordsworth, there
are no more libraries.

And, of course, it
follows that there is very

little call for the
services of a librarian.

Case in point: a minister.

A minister would tell
us that his function

is that of preaching the word of God.

And, of course, it follows that since
the State has proven that there is no God,

that would make the function of a
minister somewhat academic, as well.

There is a God.

[CROWD MURMURING]

You are in error, Mr. Wordsworth.

There is no God!

The State has proven
that there is no God!

You cannot erase God with an edict!

[MURMURING]

You are obsolete, Mr. Wordsworth.

A lie. No man is obsolete.

You have no function, Mr. Wordsworth.

You're an anachronism,
like a ghost from another time.

I am nothing more than
a reminder to you that

you cannot destroy
truth by burning pages.

You're a bug, Mr. Wordsworth,
a crawling insect.

An ugly, misformed little creature
who has no purpose here, no meaning.

I am a human being.

You're a librarian, Mr. Wordsworth.

You're a dealer in books and two-cent
fines and pamphlets and closed stacks

and the musty insides
of a language factory

that spews out meaningless
words on an assembly line.

Words, Mr. Wordsworth,

that have no substance and no dimension.

Like air, like the wind,

like a vacuum that you
make believe has an existence

by scribbling index
numbers on little cards.

I don't care. I tell you I don't care.

I'm a human being. I exist!

And if I speak one thought aloud,

that thought lives, even after
I'm shoveled into my grave!

Delusions, Mr. Wordsworth,

delusions that you inject into
your veins with printer's ink.

The narcotics that you call literature.

The Bible, poetry, essays.

All kind, all of it an opiate

to make you think you have a strength
when you have no strength at all.

You have nothing but
spindly limbs and a dream,

and the State has no use for your kind!

[MURMURING]

You waste our time, Mr. Wordsworth,
and you're not worth the waste.

Instruct him.

Romney Wordsworth, step back
to await the finding of this board.

Yes, sir.

How do you find, ladies and gentlemen?

Obsolete.

I concur.

Romney Wordsworth, step forward.

The board finds you obsolete.

Your rights are as
follows, Mr. Wordsworth:

You are to be liquidated
within a period of 48 hours,

but you have an option as
to method and precise time.

There are several prescribed
methods, Mr. Wordsworth.

Pills, gas, electrocution.

And it can be done
immediately, or an hour from now

or any specific time that you request.

I am a very rich man.

Louder.

I merely said that I was a very rich man.

I have such a luxury of choices

that I choose the following:

To be given an assassin to whom I
shall tell the method of my execution.

This is unheard of.

Mr. Wordsworth, we don't
understand the nature of the request.

Simply that you are to
assign me my assassin,

but only he and I will
know the way that I'm to die.

That will be acceptable, Mr. Wordsworth,

provided your liquidation is
accomplished within the 48-hour period.

Just one final request.

I should like to die with an audience.

Ah, Mr. Wordsworth,

that can be arranged, indeed.

It's not unusual that
we televise executions.

It has an educative
effect on the population.

I have no doubt.

Now, as to the time of the
liquidation, Mr. Wordsworth.

Midnight, tomorrow.

And the place?

In my room.

Agreed, Mr. Wordsworth.

We will choose your liquidator
and send him over to you.

He will be duty bound,
just as you prescribed,

not to divulge the method
you've decided upon.

That will be all, Mr. Wordsworth.

You may leave and return to your room.

An odd one, and with
very bizarre requests.

Bizarre, yes, but to our advantage.

We'll show the people
how this obsolete man,

this librarian, dies.

[CLOCK TICKING]

[KNOCKING AT DOOR]

Come in, Chancellor.

Thank you for coming.

Very irregular, Mr. Wordsworth.

Do you know why I've come? Do you?

Well, I invited you.

By all means, you invited me,

but why would I honor such an invitation?

A cryptic note from a
condemned man asking me

to visit him in the
last hours of his life.

Hardly the norm, Mr. Wordsworth,
hardly what I'm accustomed to.

And somewhat suspect, too.

How do I know I wasn't invited here

for that last pitiful gesture of
vengeance on the part of the condemned?

Vengeance?

Yes, I'm somewhat responsible
for the finding in your case.

Your demise in less than an hour

can be attributed at least
in part to my decision.

I'll tell you why I came, Mr. Wordsworth.

Perhaps to prove something to you.

And that is?

To prove to you that the
State has no fears, none at all.

No, you will forgive me, Chancellor.

That has all the elements of a joke.

I mean, you come to my room to
prove that the State isn't afraid of me?

Oh, what an incredible burden I must be,

to have to prove that the State isn't

afraid of an obsolete
librarian like myself.

No, I'll tell you the reason you came.

I'll tell you the reason, though
you won't admit it to yourself.

Now it's my turn to
ask, what might that be?

I don't fit your formulae.

Somewhere along the line, there's
been a deviation from the norm.

Your State has everything
categorized, indexed, tagged.

You are the strength. People
like me are the weakness.

You control and order and dictate,

and my kind merely follow and obey.

But something's gone
wrong, hasn't it? I don't fit, do I?

Oh, yes, you fit, Mr. Wordsworth.

In a few moments, you'll
be cringing and pleading

just like they all do.
Oh, yes, indeed, you fit.

You've got a worthless,
miserable little life,

but you've got an instinct for survival.

And in a few minutes, when
you feel life slipping away,

when you feel your survival
is just a question of minutes,

we'll see then which is the stronger,

Mr. Wordsworth, the
State or the librarian.

I take it you've had a talk with
whoever is assigned to your liquidation.

Yes, I have, indeed.

Midnight, isn't it?

Yes, in about 40 minutes.

See, they brought this equipment
here early this afternoon.

These two men put that
up in less than 15 minutes.

It's remote control. Very efficient.

Well, we're being televised now.

It's not unusual that we televise
executions, Mr. Wordsworth.

Last year, in the mass executions,
we televised around the clock.

Thirteen hundred people were
put to death in less than six hours.

You never learn, do you?
History teaches you nothing.

On the contrary, history
teaches us a great deal.

We had predecessors who had
the beginnings of the right idea.

Yes, Hitler.

Hitler, of course. Stalin, too. But
their error was not one of excess.

It was simply not going far enough.
Too many undesirables were left around,

and undesirables eventually
form a core of resistance.

Old people, for example, clutch at
the past and won't accept the new.

The sick, the maimed, and the deformed.

They fasten onto the healthy body
and damage it, so we eliminate them.

And people like yourself, they can
perform no useful function for the State,

so we put an end to them.

What a charming room you have,
Mr. Wordsworth. Have you lived here long?

Over 20 years. I built
that furniture myself.

Yes, so I understand, Mr. Wordsworth.

That, incidentally, has kept
you alive, that particular talent.

Carpentry, you see, is a skill,

and the State provides considerable leeway
for people who possess certain skills.

Unfortunately, you went as far as
you could go, which was insufficient.

So, in a few moments, it will
be the end of a rather fruitless life

and Mr. Romney Wordsworth, librarian,

goes to his own nirvana.

That's what they call it in your
books, isn't it, Mr. Wordsworth?

You aren't facing the
camera, Mr. Wordsworth.

You're cheating your audience.
They want to see how you die.

Please, Mr. Wordsworth, turn
around, face the camera. That's right.

Don't stifle your emotions. If you
feel like crying, go ahead and cry.

Or if you want to plead,
plead, by all means.

Some high state official
might take pity on you.

Yes, that would please you, would
it? A little abject hand-wringing,

chest pounding, falling
down on my hands and knees.

Suit yourself, Mr. Wordsworth.

Unfortunately, I don't have time to be
entertained by them when they do come.

I have another appointment this evening.

Chancellor.

Make it brief, Mr. Wordsworth.

You have plenty of time.
You're not going anywhere.

How's that?

I'm afraid I haven't
been very fair with you.

I invited you here for
a very special reason.

Would you like to know the method
that I've chosen for my liquidation?

Well, in a very few
moments, here in this room,

a bomb is going off.

Very thoughtful, Mr. Wordsworth.

Relatively quick and painless death.

Yes, isn't it? However,

knowing that you're going to be
blown to smithereens in a few moments,

isn't the happiest thought
in the world, is it? Is it?

That depends on the
individual, Mr. Wordsworth.

Indeed it does.

What kind of idiocy is this,
Mr. Wordsworth? You've locked the door.

Oh, yes, yes, I've locked
the door. Now, question,

how does a man react to the knowledge

that he's gonna be blown
to bits within a half an hour?

Answer: That depends on the individual.

So, for myself,

I'm going to sit down and read my Bible.

It's been hidden here for over 20 years.

It's a crime punishable by death,

so it's the only possession that I
have that has any value at all to me.

So I'm going to just sit down and read it

until the moment of my death.

How will you spend your
last moments, Chancellor?

This is insane, Wordsworth.
Let me out of here.

Let me out of here, someone!
Guards, someone, anyone!

You're cheating the audience.
You're not facing the cameras.

Guards, somebody down there!

There is no sense in wasting
your breath. There's nobody there.

That's one of the rules
you made up yourself:

Isolate the persons to be liquidated.

That's what you said. Oh, no, no, no, no.

I think that there's no one there,
so why don't you face the camera?

It's very important.
You said so yourself.

I'm beginning to understand, a shoe on
the other foot. That's the idea, isn't it?

It's one thing for someone like yourself
to do a little cringing, pleading,

but what a choice opportunity to show
a member of the State doing likewise.

But you're insane if you
think they'll let me stay here.

"They"? I ask clarification
of the term "they."

Ah, you mean the State! Oh, I think
they'll sit on their hands for a while.

They wouldn't wanna miss this scene.

Besides, the act of rescue
would be very demeaning to them.

To have to break in here and rescue
a high-ranking member of the State,

to snatch him out of
the soup, so to speak.

No, I think they won't help you.

I misjudged you, Wordsworth.

You underestimated me.

You wanted the whole country to
see the way that a librarian dies.

Well, let the whole country see the
way an official of the State dies, too.

Face the cameras, step into the light.

Let the whole country see
the strength of the State,

the resilience of the State,
the courage of the State.

Let the whole country see the way a
valiant man of steel faces his death.

You have a nirvana coming up, too.

Why don't you just sit
down? We'll have a little chat.

Just you and me, and the great equalizer,

'cause death is a great equalizer.

So here you have,

you have this strong,
handsome, uniformed,

bemedaled symbol of giant authority,

and this insignificant librarian,

and suddenly, in the eyes of God,

there is precious
little to distinguish us.

We shall see, Wordsworth, we shall see.

"The Lord is my
shepherd, I shall not want.

"He maketh me to lie
down in green pastures."

"He leadeth me beside the still waters."

"He restoreth my soul."

"He leadeth me in the paths of
righteousness for His name's sake."

"Yea, though I walk through
the valley of the shadow of death,"

"I will fear no evil,
for thou art with me."

"Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me."

"Thou preparest a table before me
in the presence of mine enemies."

"Thou anointest my head with oil."

"My cup runneth over."

"Surely goodness and mercy shall
follow me all the days of my life."

"Defend me from them
that rise up against me."

"Deliver me from the workers of inequity"

"and save me from the bloody men."

"For, lo, they lie in wait for my soul."

"The mighty are gathered against me,"

"not for my transgressions,
not for my sins, O God."

"They run and prepare
themselves without my fault."

"Awake to help me, and behold."

"Then, therefore, O Lord, God of hosts."

"The fool hath said in his heart,"

"there is no God."

"The Lord looked down from
heaven upon the children of men"

"to see if there were
any that did understand"

"and seek God."

"Out of the depths have I
called unto thee, O, Lord."

"Lord, hear my voice."

Let thine ears be attentive to
the voice of my supplications."

[CRYING] Please, please, let me out.

In the name of God, let me out!

Let me out! Let me out!

Yes, Chancellor, in the
name of God, I will let you out.

MAN: Stand where you are. No further.

You have been removed
from office. The field

investigators have
declared you "obsolete."

Obsolete?

You have disgraced the State.
You have proven yourself a coward.

You have therefore no function.

You are obsolete!

But I'm not. I'm not obsolete.

You are obsolete.

[CHANTING] Obsolete, obsolete.

-You are obsolete.
-[CHANTING CONTINUES]

You're making a terrible
mistake, a tragic mistake.

I'm not obsolete. I've worked for
the State. I've helped the State.

I helped give the State strength.

How can you call me
obsolete? How can you?

[CHANTING STOPS]

Please, I'm not obsolete.

Please, I… please, I'm not obsolete.

I… I have a function, I have a purpose.

Please, I… please.

I want to serve the State,
please. Please, no, I'm…

I'm not obsolete.

No, no, I… I… please,
please. I'm not obsolete, no!

[BUZZING MURMUR OF CROWD]

I want to serve the State.

-[MURMUR INTENSIFIES]
-Please, please!

No!

I want to serve the State.

[MURMUR GETS LOUDER, ANGRIER]

[CROWD YELLING]

Please, I'm… I'm not obsolete.

-[ANGRY YELLING]
-[CHANCELLOR SCREAMS]

NARRATOR: The
chancellor, the late chancellor,

was only partly correct. He was obsolete,

but so is the State, the
entity he worshipped.

Any state, any entity, any ideology
that fails to recognize the worth,

the dignity, the rights of
man, that state is obsolete.

A case to be filed under "M" for "mankind"

in the Twilight Zone.

PRESENTER: Rod Serling,
creator of The Twilight Zone,

will tell you about next week's story

after this word from
our alternate sponsor.

And now, Mr. Serling.

I'm about to show you a picture of
something that isn't what it looks like.

Pleasant little town? It isn't
this at all. It's a nightmare.

It's a chilling, frightening journey of
one man into a mystifying unknown.

You're invited to join that man
in a most unique experience.

Next week, Earl Holliman asks, and
you'll ask with him, "Where Is Everybody?"

Here's an item we forgot. A moment
for the people who pay the tab.

It's often said that a picture is
worth a thousand words, case in point.

Before we meet again, try
Oasis. You'll know what I mean.

[THEME MUSIC PLAYING]

PRESENTER: Be sure and watch
Gunsmoke, starring James Arness,

Saturday nights over
most of these same stations.