All language subtitles for Jonas

A packet of Gauloises.

One ninety.

That much?

Prices are going up.

The next day

All our wisdom is but servile...

prejudice.
Our customs but constraint,...

servitude and confinement.

Socially, man is born, lives...

and dies in slavery.
At birth,...

he is bound in linen.

At death, nailed into a coffin.

To be human is to be enchained...

by our institutions.

I'm going to the market gardeners' today.

The ad is in the paper.

It's hard to imagine
you among vegetables!

Why? It's hard for me...

to imagine you among machines...

and industrial peace.

You're being eaten, Mathilde.

My wife eaten.

I'm sure, that by eating us...

they turn us into the guts and balls...

of our enemies.

And when they've had enough,...

it's the sack.

Like for me.

I have to go.
Make sure the kids are...

dressed for school.
Don't fix spaghetti.

We're tired of it.

Try a vegetable.

Yes, love, a vegetable.

When I was little at school,...

I always lost races.

I'm looking for Marcel Certoux.
Do you know him?

I know him.

I'm Marguerite Certoux.

Is it about the job?

I saw the ad. I'm interested.

Are you experienced?

No, but I can learn. Is it hard?

No...

That's to say, yes.
You have to like it.

What's your usual job?

Workman?

Labour. Or work,...

if you prefer.

I'm work. And so, for hire.

I've been unemployed for three months.

I've got two kids.

And another one adopted.

If you're labour,
what does that make me?

You don't look like capital.

Then show me the books.

It's part of the contract.

Okay?

I've nothing to hide.

Why do you want to see them?

To see if...

the contract is fair.

It isn't usually. It never is.

So, you're hiring me?
- I guess so.

What do I do?

You get up early. On market days...

you load the truck.

You get manure.

The others don't want to anymore.

Others?

The two Zeros:
Zero one and Zero two.

The two idiots.

Idiots?

No, only a little wild.

And the manure?

Horse shit to make...

things grow.

No chemicals used here!

But it's harder. It's not so...

productive. And it's more work.

And horse shit is best?

The peasants keep the cow
shit for them.

And since there's so many stables...

All those useless horses...

They do...

one smart thing at last.

They shit.

Why did you lose your job?

The printing crisis.

Typesetter?

Yes. Staff lay-off.

And as a militant,...

you were fired first.

Here you won't have much chance...

to agitate, with the two Zeros.

You will be...

Zero three.

I prefer my own name:

Mathieu... Mathieu Vernier.

When do I start?

Tomorrow if you like.

Your photos?

Never take people?

Never.

Not even his kids.

Only animals.

And then he draws them.

They're more interesting.

We're the least interesting animals.

We're a mess.

And people haven't any mystery.

He only likes the Zeros.

And me too, a little.

Because you're a witch.

And the Zeros are a bit animal.

You like animals?

More or less...

You know whales are one of the few,

animals with inexpressive voices?

When a dog or a cat

express themselves, they bark

or meow expressively.

But whales only

make coded noises.

With mathematics we may

soon understand them.

Do you know what some sailors found

near Kamchatka? Unknown big pink

island. And uncharted.

Know what they were?

Schrimps. Immense pile of schrimps!

Schrimp islands.
And do you know why?

Why we're going to eat schrimps

three times a day? With dessert

and with coffee?

Because whales are killed

for lipstick.
And since whales eat schrimps

but can't since they're all killed,

we'll all die of indigestion
from schrimps.

And a good thing too.

Mr. Marco Perly,

who is your new history teacher.

He is replacing Mr. Genthod,

who has retired.

I know you'll make him welcome.

Don't forget my father is a butcher...

and my mother

sings operetta very well.

Who wants to cut the blood sausage?

In rythm.

That's fine for now.

Pieces of history.

What'll we call them?

Hours? Years? Centuries?

It's the same and never stops.

It's eaten with apple sauce.

Is this sausage like time?

Darwin thought so.

But the stuffing changed

from one end to the other.

Marx thought man would one day

stop eating sausage.

Einstein ripped off the skin,

and then it lost its form.

What's the skin made of?

Pig intestine.

Look at the whole sausage.

There are folds and bends.

I'm going to talk about

how the folds of time are made.

In agricultural societies,

time was thought to be cyclic.

Each season repeated the same moment.

Of course men aged.

But only because they wore out.

He was the fuel that made

the seasonal machine work.

Capitalism brought the idea

of the highway,

the highway of time and progress.

Progress means that the winners win not

only the battle. They've also been

chosen as intrinsically
superior beings.

Their superiority turned

the cycles and seasons...

"into a corkscrew; and the winners"

were the point of the corkscrew.

With their point they opened

the bottles of inferior cultures.

Drinking till they had enough.

Then they smashed the bottles.

A new kind of violence.

Weapons had killed in the past,

but now the verdict of history killed.

The winner's history.

With this new violence

came a new fear for the winners.

Fear of the past.

Fear of inferiors

in their broken bottles.

If the past caught up
with the winners,

it might show as little pity

as they had shown.

In the last century

this fear

became scientific.

Time became a road with no bends.

Its lenght was a fearsome abstraction.

But abstractions take no revenge.

From then on, 19th-century thinkers

preferred the fear of thought

to the fear of the savages

with their arrows.

And the road was marked with

perfect regularity. Millions

of years divided into eras,

dates, days, working hours...

Clocking in clocking out

like blood sausage.

Today the highway of capitalism

is collapsing...

for more reasons than I can tell you

in this bit of sausage, this lesson.

In the acorn is the blueprint

for the whole tree.

What each of you is,

was in chromosomes at my

conception. Excuse me,
your conception.

I'm no determinist

but in your first cell there was

a message you're now reading.

Some things make holes in time.

You could pass a skewer throught them.

My father, remember, is a butcher.

The pierced sausage.

Time bends so the holes coincide.

Why are prophets misunderstood
in their own time?

Because only half

the holes are there.

They're between time.

No one understood much of Diderot,

till Freud came and

was called a monster. It took

all that while for the holes to coincide.

The holes prophets make

to see the future

are the same ones historians use

to look at the past.

The holes made by Rousseau

today explain the 18th century.

You're looking at your watches.

We'll finish with a binary rhythm

like the heart's.

Between each beat there's time.

Time is knowing the second stroke

is not the first.

Time is reduced in synthesis.

The human embryo whistles

through evolution.

In a total synthesis,

time disappears.

I'm all in pieces, my love.

Everything'll be fine.

I've got a job.

At the market gardener's? Is it OK?

Seems so.

Fresh air, vegetables,

the market.

You in the market?

Sure, why not?

And your boss?

Friendly. He's a little odd.

He talks about murdered whales

and piles of schrimps.

Even better. I've found an apartment.

It goes with the job.

Fantastic! Is it big?

Enormous. Old.

In a country house.

With fields, gardens, birds.

So, we hit the jackpot.

As the idiots on the radio say.

We won't complain.

How big is it?

Big, big.

With lots of rooms.

Not enough of us to live here.

I think you'd better give me a baby.

I don't like empty spaces.

Nor an empty womb.

Nor empty breasts.

I want to be filled,

to overflow...

In nine months I'll be this big...

Satigny! Don't recognize me?

Yes, I do.

We were at school together.

What are you doing here?

Having coffee...

Let me buy you a whisky.

No thanks.

Come on. Nowadays revolutionaries
drink whisky.

Aren't you in the wrong place?

Trying to win money for
the party?

Now what were you?

A coco-marxist?

Come on. Have a drink...

Three Chivas Regals!

I've lost a pile.

You're far from ruined.

What are you selling?

The wind.

The wind blows

over the bread winners...

And I sweep up

the dough.

De Vandoeuvres

of the Geneva-Nassau Bank.

Papa's christmas present.

This is Madeleine. Fast and

efficient temporary secretary.

Is Nassau in Bermuda?

No, Bahamas.

Do you do business here?

No. Holidays. I do business here.

And now I'm going to do
good business here.

Between the surburbs
and the contryside.

Where the zoning laws are changing.

We have to empty all urban centers.

And people love the country.

We'll build luxury slums there.

Hello. What are you doing?

Do you want to see the Vandoeuvres?

No. I've come to see you.

How nice!

Have you got a minute?

I have to ask you something.

O.K. It's important?
- It is.

Can you come out? I can't talk there.

In five minutes.

I'll wait in the cafe on the corner.

Make sure you don't get caught.

I'll make photocopies
when nobody's there.

It's all in the file?

I think so.

The owners' name anyway.

I bet it's the usual speculation

racket around re-zoning.
He has friends

in politics, connections.

They'll offer land further out

in exchange, threatening expulsion.

And three years later

sell for four times as much.

Will you tell the owners?

Spill it all?

I don't think so.
I'll just warn them

without giving details.

If they don't sell,

the prices will go up and up...

And they can draw

their own conclusions.

What do you do?

I work for a paper.

Are you going to write
about all this?

I don't write anymore.

I'm a proofreader.

I correct other people's bullshit.

Aside from typing other people's

bullshit, what do you do?

I earn as much money as quickly

as I can, and then leave.

Where to?

Last time it was India.

I'm going to go back.

Alone?

I suspect you're

a jet-set hippie...

Or else you're looking for God.

Already found him.

What's he like?

He's here,...

in the explosion that opens

the lotus on top of your head.

When you make love standing up,

holding back your seed...

and letting it rise transcendant...

along your spine... just to here.

The energies join

to make the great emptiness,

thoughts without objects.

Commonly called

getting horny.

Very commonly.

I'll show you someday, if you like.

I usually do it differently,

But why not?

Thoughts without objects...

must be like playing roulette...

When can you do these copies?

Tonight.

You are efficient.

Your lotus, is it Zen or Tantra?

Tantra.

Do you have any cabbages?

Yes. But I'm cooking now.

Ask Mathieu, the new one.

Are they for your supper?

No. For my history lesson.

Eating alone?

You can eat with us.

O.K. Thanks.

Have you noticed

when you cut a cabbage in half

it looks like

the lobes of the brain?

Do you teach botany or anatomy?

History.
I'll need some seeds to plant,

so we can watch them grow.

We're studying time.

How much are cabbages?

2,90 a kilo.

Expensive, two kilos, this one.

That's inflation!

Everyone says that.

Beer is two francs... inflation!

Cabbages... inflation.

No one knows what it is.

Some words have lost their meaning.

Inflation. Recession.

I know what recession is.

Can you explain

it clearly?

Sure, why?

My students asked me

what it meant. And how it worked.

I couldn't say.

So, they had a right to be angry.

Sure. A history teacher!

Could you explain it?

Will you come in one day
to explain recession?

Sometimes I invite outsiders to talk.

On two conditions.

First I have time. And I tell the truth.

You"ll have the whole hour.
And of course the truth.

That's unusual.
- Not with me.

It's risky.

Truth at school...

It won't be the first time.

What are we waiting for?

Marcel.

As usual. Where is he?

In his darkroom

or hide-out.

Still the photos?

He photographs chicken

and then he draws them.

It's buzzards.

I'm hungry.

And Marguerite?

She'll be back.
She's gone to the huts.

The Italian workers.

They're Spanish.

And Italian,

and Yugoslav, and Greek, and Turk.

The Turks should be hot.

She sells vegetables?

No, something else.

What then?

It cost twenty francs a go.

Not expensive. She likes it.

Marcel not so much.

We'll get yelled at.

You're kidding.

Marguerite's out?

She went out for a walk.

To the huts, I think.

Eating with us?

What are you waiting for?

You, as usual.

You're impatient.

Know what a tick is?

A bug that sucks blood.

Exactly!

We'll eat and I'll tell

you about the tick.

It falls from a leaf

onto a warm-blooded animal.
It sucks the blood

and falls to the ground when it's full.

It lays egg and dies.

The eggs hatch.

The new tick climbs the tree

and waits for

a warm-blooded animal.

Like you. An animal that stinks.

It can smell?

If one doesn't come, does it fly away?

No. It can only drop.

So it waits. And do you know

how long it can wait?

Without eating?

Eighteen years.

I don't believe it.

Yes. It's fantastic.
Eighteen years.

My ass. Without eating?

Without eating, idiot.
You two apes

can't wait five minutes.

Eighteen years...

You've started? I'm late...

The creature which lives
only one day

can wait eighteen years for it.

Two completely different
time scales...

in the same creature!

The tick.

You and your stories!

Finished eating?

To bed!

Where were you, witch?

Walking. You know.

I don't want to talk about it.

The mystery of nature.

All nature is mystery.

It's full moon.

People are funny tonight.

Hello.

I'm sorry to bother you.

I'm Max Satigny.

Is Mr. Certoux here?

I want to talk to you.

But I can come back later.

Come in. Sit down.

Bring a glass.

You have to talk to me?

Because of the full moon.

No. It's something else.

It's private.

It has to do with real estate.

Real estate?

My wife, my employees.

Our neighbour, Mr. Perly.

You can talk here.

You're big.

Since I was little. Big as

an elephant. And I never forget.

Briefly, this is what's up. A big

property speculation is going
on here.

Your land is included...

The idea is to cheat people.

I've come to warn you all here.

What kind of speculation?

You'll see. For the moment

refuse any offer to sell.
And see what happens.

How do you know? Who's doing it?

A company. A friend who works

in the bank financing the deal
told me.

Are you sure?

Do you work for a rival?

No, honestly. I saw the file.
You'll

get a letter,
then someone will come.

Thanks for the warning.

Why do you do this?

Just to see what happens.

It interests me.

I'll be back to see you.

Your health!

You come because
you like vegetables.

Ah yes, that too.

Cabbage, braised with bacon.

Your interest is political.

It doesn't help anymore.
Politics are finished.

11 francs 40.

You made a mistake.

You forgot the whisky.

I never make mistakes.

The whisky alone is forty francs.

11 francs 40 please.

Trying to teach me my job?

Well.

There's your change.

Don't you want to sit in front?

No, I want to stay in the back.

If you never spend your money...

You know you'll always

have some cash.

If you stay cool and never burn,

You'll never turn to ash.

If you lick the boots

that kick you,

You'll never feel the lash.

And if you crawl along the ground,

at least you'll never crash.

So, why, why, why...

What made you think you could fly?

Well, what a surprise!

Lotus flower!

I've already seen a lot of tenants.

The bank will move in soon.

They won't get anywhere.

It'll be interesting.

One thing I don't understand.

What's that?

You.

Your absurd job. Roulette,

and your getting mixed up in this.

It's complicated.

It's not. Maybe it is.

You're in some movement?

No. I used to be. Before.

During the sixties.

64, 65, 66, 67, 68,

69, 70, 71, 72.

Maybe '68 turned you off?

No. It was after.

I'm getting you out

of this hole. We'll spend

the night together.

We'll have a coffee?

I'll take you to the fair.

Good idea.

And roulette?

It's death.

Time standing still. Chance!

God the Father in a little ball.

The only place where he exists

beard and all.

Do you win?

No, I lose.

Everyone goes to
the casino to lose.

They don't know it,

but it's their deepest motivation.

The desire to be a loser.

The casinos, they know it.

True hapiness is losing all.

Usually disillusion like yours

comes around forty-five...

when hopes haven't been fulfilled.

Men want history to go

as fast as life

It doesn't work that way.

I first thought

you were an activist.

As you see, I'm not. Not anymore.

Everything, Charles.

And...

paid for?

What you find is yours.

Other people shouldn't

leave things around.

Marie, this won't end well.

And it bothers me.

It shouldn't.

Tell yourself

it's part of your pension.

You drove trains all your life.

But I loved it.

Then that's alright.

How are you doing?

O.K. But I'm a little bored.

I haven't seen anyone all day.

Didn't you go out?

I waited for you.

No. A stop over.

Full of adventure.

Beziers. July 1935.

It was terribly hot.

I was nearly killed.

Near the station was a cafe.

The Travellers' Cafe

And the owner was a
marvelous woman...

With a jealous husband.

Like a tiger. You guessed it.

I play the owner?

No, she wasn't like you at all.

An imposing sort of woman.

The way we liked them then.

Nowadays,
with your little bottoms

in your little pants...

How nice...

She was well known. Her husband

was an old fool. She got him

with the cafe. That's the way.

I was lucky. I spent

every other night in her bed.

Her name was Rose,

of course.

What's on your mind?

I'm trying to imagine you and Rose.

Wait.

Take this knife.

You can be her husband.

He tried to kill you?

It was a brawl!

Not up in the air like that.
A real knife thrust

What should I say?

Nothing. Just try to get
me around the table.

And Rose?

She was serving.
We were in the back.

You didn't call?

In those moments

one has dignity.

He said nothing?

I can still hear him:

I'll kill you.
I'll thrash you bastard.

Thrash you bastard!

Thrash you bastard!

What was May '68 for you?

Cherry blossom time?

Cherry blossom time.

And what then?

Afterwards nothing changed.

You think so? I'm not sure.

Nothing changed.

Everything's worse than before.

Apart from crazes.

Whole earth,

macro-something food.

Dirty children, casual sex,

Tantrism...

also rubbish.

I only see one thing:

Kissinger circling the world...

that's the bloody truth.

No!

It is!

You're protestant?

No. Why?

You once were.

Not at all. Never.

Your family was then.

You were influenced by it.

It's possible.
Why do you say that?

You're a pessimist, Max.

You want your acts to have

effects. You're a utilitarian.

I produce nothing.

Soon you'll make love to me.

And you'll think about morality.

That's interesting.

If you hold back your semen,

it's for a practical reason.

Making a baby or not.

If you hold it back,

it means you're

dissolving in the great emptiness.

And if you release it,
you're trying

to be one with
the fullness of life.

You change religion into morals.

I destroy morals
through religion.

Aren't you complicating

a very simple thing?

You complicate things,

dividing them in two.
Good and bad,

useful and harmful...

You think like a court a law,

always judges and lawyers.

I'm all that?

Tantrism is the erotic
game of

the cosmos inside the mind.

All the difference is here.

Max, you're death.

Not because of roulette

but by dividing things:

Masculine and feminine, head and body,

sex organs and the face.

It makes you aggressive
and stiff.

I'm whole and one:

Death by fusion

and dissolution in
the universe.

You're hysterical.
But I like you.

I like you too.

They propose a decent system

to reinforce the cooperation

of workers and management

and to avoid labour conflicts,

to guarantee

Switzerland future.

The progressive wing

of management

refuses the union demand

for participation,

a demand

without justification.

Mathilde,
I have something to tell you

I know.

To explain all the smallest

bit of matter

is so filled with faith
that it must

be considered the
begining of life,

to explain where

this belief lays,

is impossible.

All one can say is that
this faith is

the very essence of things

and relies on nothing.

Crocodile egg.

Tell papa

I've soaked then beans.

Know paper money's origin??

No, but I'm interested.

I'm learning a lot from you.

It's the retention of feces.

I think of that when
I see Vandoeuvres.

It's funny.

Retaining feces.

It's transformed into an economic sign,

into gold and notes. Gold and shit:

We hide them both. The origin

of the Protestant Bank.

Unlike most of
what you've told me,

that seems to quite true.

It reminds me of something:

A medical friend of mine

planned a thesis

about Calvin's constipation,

which explained everything.

Calvin was constipated?

That's what he said.
Extremely constipated.

Geneva is a retentive city,
isn't it?

Yes.

Mani padme.

The password.

What does it mean?

The jewel in the lotus.

Take off your shoes please.

Must I?
- Absolutely, always.

We'll eat,

but never each other.

You can take your clothes off

I will because

I eat with my fingers.

It's part of the rite.

Part of my heresy.

Transgressing all. Meat,
alcohol,

sex. There is whisky in
the kitchen.

A form of Tantrism
consisted of

eating impure food off
the body

of a naked virgin and making

group love in a cemetery.

But you're not a virgin,
and cemeteries

are cold this time of the year.

Too bad!

I feel my protestant

upbringing coming out.

Really.

Relax. It will disappear
in smoke.

Day dream and talk to me.

I'm going to eat.

Noon, summer,
the street is filled

with tomatoes.
The light is cut

in two tomatoes halves.

Juice flows down the streets...

...with its own light,

its majestic generosity.
Unfortunately we must

kill it. Th knife slices

the living flesh.

Red inside! A new sun!

No chemicals in our leeks.

Buy our vegetables.

Our beautiful vegetables.

Buy a beautiful lettuce.

No chemicals.

Without scales or bones.

It offers us its wild freshness,

the whole

of its freshness.

Are you Mr. Certoux?

No. I'm the king of shit.

But I can take you to him.

You had my letter?

Yes, we got it.

We threw it out.

So many paper do come in the mail.

It's not important
now that I've come.

I will explain our project.

May I sit down?

You've no doubt noticed
the city

developing out here...

You want us to move out.

Not at all!

There's no question of
that at present.

We'll examine the question

together, calmly...

The problem that will
come up here

soon concerning industrial
development.

What time do you wake up?

Around 7.30. Why?

You read the shitty newspaper?

At six or earlier in summer

you can hear birds sing.

So many... As numerous

as the headlines.

They send messages
all around us.

They're easy to hear if you

don't read the paper.

But man has invented

a terrible silence.

Building it

stone by stone.

And no longer hears
the messages around him.

If he could hear them,

he'd be a little encouraged.

He's not the only one to speak.

The only one who keeps

the world turning.

Have you heard a nightingale?

A few times.

Lying in bed?

No. I live in town. But

your children won't be able

to live off nightingales.

Though they are eaten.

Yes, they are eaten.

In pat�, or skewered,
which is even better.

By then your chemical products

will have killed them.

I'm not in chemicals.

Your brothers are. You give them

money so they can destroy whales

or dump mercury in the lake.

Do you eat fish from the lake?

I do indeed.

These problems are exaggerated.

The fish can adapt to changes,
like us.

The fish may adapt,
but not your organism.

And when your brain's filled with

mercury, all shrunk up?

You accuse me of everything?

Yes.

You murder whales,

and destroy the ozone.

You grow pigs with extra chops

and run highways through
beet fields,

and make penicillin calves

and blind hens.

I think you're changing
the subject.

Did you know whales love music?

No. But I like music a lot.
So what?

Nobody murders you for it.

I'm going to eat him.

What's that?

It seems he wants to eat you.

Let's get back to business.

I'll explain our little problem.

There's no problem.

We'll have some music
since you like it.

Go on, baboon.

I'll eat him afterwards.

When he's stopped playing you can go.

Crises don't just happen.

They are linked to
the structure and

function of capitalism.

They can be provoked.

Like the fake oil crisis.

"Or they can be organised"

and staged.

Like the governments
of capitalist

countries are now doing

to purge the system,

eliminate the weak

and concentrate more power

among the strong.

Recession and the unemployment

it brings

has both advantages
and drawbacks.

The advantages are obvious
for the system:

Unemployment keeps workers

in a state of fear,

of insecurity, and consequently

they make no demands

and the right is permitted
to attack

social legislation,

as is happening in our
country now.

But there is a paradox here:

Since profit comes essentially

from surplus value,

which is produced by men working,

it's necessary to maintain
a balance,

a sufficient rate
of unemployment,

to control a crisis

so profitable to the monopolies.

But a crisis may end
like the last one,

with 60 million dead.

I myself hope you're all

in one piece in 2000.

4 Francs 30.

Wrong again.

This time you forgot
the wine.

No. Don't be such a pain
in the neck.

I beg your pardon.

I was waiting for you.

I wanted to talk to you after

what you'd done for me.

I do it for others too.

Usually old people who have

only their pensions.

Prices are so high
they'd starve.

That's why they line up
at your register?

I suppose so.

But I'm no pensioner.

You just looked funny

at the cash register
with your whisky.

I'll buy you a drink.

I haven't time. I live far away.

On the other side of the border.

No permit to live here?

I have to sleep in France.

Do you have a car?
- I take the bus.

I'll drive you there.

I'm going to a friend's
who lives near me.

I'll take you there
if he doesn't mind.

He doesn't mind.

What's your name?
- Marie.

Marco. I've my car here.

Let me help you.

I'm coming.

You're with a friend?

A dark young man.

Marco... Charles.

He brought me in a car.

Got everything?

I think so.

And paid for it?

Yes. Nearly, that is.
Not everything...

You mustn't!

I tell you all the time.

She does it for you?

It's usually for old ones like me.

She'll get caught.

She'll go to jail.

Do you work in groceries?

No, I'm a teacher.

Have you known Marie for long?

For about... a year or so.

A year? And you never
introduced me

to your boy friend?

He didn't have a car.
He lives far away.

Well, I'll fix dinner.

You could have told me.

I tell you everything.

She lives across from me and I

didn't know she had a boy friend.

That's women for you.

She did tell you about me?
Foorplate Charlie!

Certainly.

Nevertheless!

Did you drive that one?

It's beautiful!

However.

I began with her.

Later, I drove her twin.

And her cousin.

She's one of the last steam engines.

A beauty, and powerful!

With overheating and double expansion.

It developed an enormous strength.

I was on the eastern railway.

In winter it wasn't very warm.

And you drove trains in the war?

In the occupied zone.
I worked for the germans.

We arranged quite

a few accidents.

Now French and German towns

adopt one another.

People forget.

And you?

Have you forgotten?

I don't forget anything. I can still

hear the screech of the points.

Everything.

Do railroads

interest you?

What you say does.

I'm a history teacher.

I'll tell you something:

Travelling in a train
and driving

a train are two
different things.

Because of the rails.

Do you ever ride a train?
What do you see?

The landscape passing,

like at the movies.

I don't go to the movies anymore.

But, on the footplate,

the landscape doesn't pass by.

You go into it. And into it.

And into it.

It's like music.

You go straight ahead,
right to

where the rails join.
And however far

you go... They never join.

Max? It's Madeleine.
How are you?

Not too bad.

What are you doing?

I'm eating bread and
jam and reading

the papers. It's Sunday.

And Perly and Certoux?

That's going O.K.

It's caused bedlam at the bank.
Real trouble.

And they don't suspect?

No. Not a thing.

It makes me think about you.

You've done a good job.

I'm making two calls at once.

The first is about the bank.

The second is about sex.

It's Sunday. I'm alone.

I want to make a silent explosion

in your head that will open
a superb lotus.

I want to caress your vagina

while you caress my balls.

Max, are you there?

Yes. I'm trying to understand.

Aren't you getting things
a little mixed?

In fact I wanted to see Certoux

and find out what's happening.

I have to go there.

I have to go there. We could

explode a lotus later, then.

You didn't fasten your safety belt.

You neither. And you're smoking.

Is it forbidden?

No. But it will be next year.

And the year after?

You won't be allowed to listen

to the radio in the car.

And after that?

No more talking in the car.

And after that?

No more dreaming.

And then there will be war,

or rather fascism.

What's your name?

Come on, Max!

We're going to draw you.

You're big!

Like an elephant.
I was always big.

We want to draw you.

You fly away.

Don't be so tense!

We've come for vegetables.

This is Marie... Mathieu.

They've pinned you to the wall.

This is Marie.

She's Madeleine, Lotus flower.

I've got a cramp.

Unfortunately!

But it was perfect.
Stay there!

I'm crucified.

Am I an elephant,

a butterfly or a prophet?

You're a bear,

a bear marks off his territory,

in the Canadian forest,

by scratching on tree trunks.

The bigger the bear,

the higher the mark.

Thus the big bear announces

to little bears

that he is bigger than them and

that they should watch out.

My territory is as far
as I can see.

No more.

My country exists only
on the map.

I'm never at home.

We're all borderline cases!

Of course, my little bear.

No one can refuse

changes.

Cities today aren't like in the

Middle Ages. You agree?

The overcrowding

can't go on.

The population increases.

We must find new jobs.

Economic progress can't stop.

In the end everything must

give way to it. Our goal, our duty

is to foresee these changes,

foresee them, well in advance.

Your place?

Not today.

Here are the rules:

This is Marie.

She works in a supermarket.

I'm supposed to give
a history test

today. And give you grades.

But since neither you
nor I want to

do that, I suggest we do this:

One at a time, but in any order,

you ask Marie questions.
I'll grade you

on the quality of your questions.

One more thing: Marie has to sleep

every night in France,

although she works
in Switzerland.

That's tough. You sleep there too?

Can I ask one thing
before starting?

Are you in love with Marie?

That has nothing to
do with it.

I know, but answer anyway.

Yes, I'm in love with Marie.

Now to test your knowledge of

history by your questions

to a supermarket worker

who works in Switzerland

and sleeps in France.

Who wants to begin?

How long does it take you
to get to work?

About one hour on the bus,

less in a car.

Do you hitch-hike?

Sometimes,
but I don't like it.

Why?

Does it count as a question
if I ask why?

"Explain your "why"."

Is it because of the men
who drive the cars?

You don't want to save time at the risk

of getting interfered with?

That's it.

And it always happens.

I'd like to go on.
This is important.

I'm linking economic history -

sleeping in one country and working

in another- with the history

of sexuality.

The behaviour of the men who give

Marie a lift. In economic terms,

that's to say who might allow her

to sleep

later

in return for being allowed to feel

her up, or better...

To slide it in!

Very clever! You have no respect.

Give him a zero.

Already have. Write a few pages

developing your idea.

Marie, how much do you earn?

I mean, living in France,

with a Swiss salary,

do you feel that you live better

than if you worked in France?

Perhaps. I don't know.

Anyway I don't live well.

Anyway I'm from Annecy.
I'd rather live there.

I don't like my job.

I've never before declared
my love in public.

It was funny. And nice.

Now you'll make me break the law.

Which law?

About sleeping in France.

I'm going to sleep

on the wrong side.

Does the wind feel the clouds?

Does the bicyle know it move?

Does water feel anything?

And if it's made to boil?

"Where does the word "sun"
come from?"

"Does it know it's called
"the sun"?"

When we move,

does the moon move too?

And if we stop

or change direction?

I'm dead tired. And fed up.

Aren't you?

I'm fed up too.

And I've got my period.

I don't have them anymore.

Will you please follow me, Miss?

Where to?

To my office.
I'm asking the questions.

Get lost.

Don't make

things worse for yourself.

Fourteen.

Now. Fifteen.

Does 3 go into it?

Now 18, Cecile.

In between.

Does 2 go into it?

Is it even?

Does 3 go into it?

What's happening?

I'm growing flower.

It's the perfect place.

But they should be at school.

They are.

What is all this?

Teaching in a greenhouse?

Yes. They like it.

How long as it been going on?

Two days.

And your work?

I fixed it with the two Zeros.

In some cases the kids will help.

Why not?

If they don't go to school,
we'll be

in trouble. It's the law.

You're crazy. The police will come.

By law they have to be taught,

not necessarily at school.

I'm working at it. Every night.

I'm serious. Everything will be O.K.

The toughest inspector

would be satisfied.

You have to put an end
to this act.

All this has to stop! It's impossible.

Wait and see,

before you decide.

We have enough problems.

And now kids who don't go to school.

What's wrong today?

No one wants to talk?

You're all asleep?

Connect what I've just told you

with your own experiences,

Your own desires.

That should help you find an answer.

What if we don't want to?

What if our desires are secret?

Tell us your desires first.

Why should we talk about our desires

and not you?

You're changing the subject.

If I asked you, right now,
what you desire,

would you answer?

It's that you wake up!

That's not true!

Your secret desire. Right now!

We won't be shocked.

What are you thinking about?
Marie?

I can't think of anything

with so much noise.

Quiet! Let him think.

He's thinking.

About Marie?

Yes, if you like that.
About Marie...

And perhaps about someone else...

Who else?

My dream is to go to bed with

two girls. Satisfied?

I've been fired.

Doesn't surprise me.

What'll you do now?

I think I've found a new job.

An old people's home.

Doing what?

They're labelled. Senior citizens.

Just throw them out.

I want to help them do things,

say things, sing.

Senior citizens...

Third rate citizens.

That's your third world!

The onion's a great vegetable.

Democratic,

it grows everywhere.

Its skin is thick,

protecting it from the cold.

It's considered vulgar.

It gives flavour to everything.

It lasts. You can eat
it raw or cooked.

It's sweet and a little bitter too.

It kills germs and it's cheap.

I like cabbage best.

So vegetables are politics now.

Eat vegetables!

You're going to an old people's home

to become a king of vegetable.

The pie would be better
if we had a wood stove.

The past again! Wood stoves. Old people.

Next time you'll arrive in a coach.

You're wrong to think the revolution' s

for the future.

The revolution is the past revenge.

You see the dawn.

I see an old tree.

You go backwards, Marco.

Because it's a time of disillusion

you go back.

Everybody looks for an escape:

The body, nature, sex,

onions, lotus flowers.

Small consolations
in an intolerable

world which is said to be unchangeable.

You don't allow little pleasures?

Little pleasures.
Everything's little

Little gimmicks.
Little tricks.

Teaching kids you could

change the future.

If you hadn't been fired.

I could undermine the present.

That's not the same.

Right, subvert the present

to build the future.

We have to sacrifice
for the future.

Shit! It's the old trick
of revolutions.

It's what capitalism has always preached.

You're living in the past.

You want a new 1905,

or 1917 or 1968.

What can you bring these old men?
Nothing.

You'd rather I teach dates?

I just want you to teach

capitalism can collapse.

I did. And they fired me for it.

You make me sick with all your talking.

It's so simple. We work

to earn a living.

With our work, they make a profit.

And with the strength left over,

some of us

try to fight the system.

It's simple. That's how it is.

With old men I can act crazy.

I can do anything.

I hope I never get old.

Then kill yourself.
I'm already old.

That's why I see it clearly.

The old understand
the value of time.

When you have a lot,

time is both future and past.

All memories are in the present.

And all hopes too.

But they don't

destroy the present.

That's why I like old people.

In ten years
you'll be tired of them.

And you of roulette.

I'm no hero. I've given up,

but not completely. You'll have to admit

that some
- and I'm hardly one of them -

were right to have priorities.

You'll have waited so long,

you'll be dangerous.

I hope so.

That's to say,

dangerous for your little comrades...

I have something to announce.

You're pregnant.

I guessed.

She's a witch, remember.

She reads stars and cobwebs.

You can't see it yet.
Only three months.

I guessed it from your face.

What do you mean?
Are there marks?

No. There aren't any marks.

You can just tell.

How am I?

I see it too. In your eyes.

You're big. Big Mathilde.

Enormous Mathilde!

Superb Mathilde. He's already

coming out of your eyes.

It's a boy.

Or a girl.

No. A boy.

Poor thing!

I bet on a girl.

I bet on a boy. I'm sure.

Can you know?

There's a technique.

Explain it.

That's not easy.

Is it a position?

Standing on your head

with your toes like a lotus.

Is it special?

No. Not special.

I know, Missionary position.

Simple!

It'll be a simple minded boy.

A missionary.

I don't believe it. I bet it's

a girl. Her name'll be Marie.

Marie? Why?

Because of Marie who's in prison.

Her name will be Marie.

Marie. That's a little
too much Jesus-Mary.

Three months already.

Born in autumn. Libra.

A girl, ladies and gentlemen.

A rose.

Rose-Marie, for Marco.

Or Rosemonde. The world's rose.

Her first husband will be the moon.

Mathilde, what name do you want?

Me, I'll know later.

I want Leon.

But that's awful.

Why Leon?

Because of Leon.

There aren't so many.

I want Emile.

Why? Because of Jean-Jacques?

Emile, L�on.
You're completely mad.

What do you think Madeleine?

No idea.

Unless Siva or Satki.

Who are they?

One and the other.

Him and her. Siva or Sakti.

Sakti or Siva. Or the two together.

People are both

male and female,

with a dominant side.

Why want a boy?

To leave the business to.

The empty body of love.

The abolition of duality.

Back to one.

Conceived in one moment:

The affirmation of time

and its negation.

The union of existence

and emptiness. Two in one:

Lotus and thunder, vulva

and phallus, the left hand...

Management and labour, exploiters

and exploited. It's all the same.

Nothing exists.

He's so stupid I could cry.

Marcel's been quiet.

Mathilde is right. It'll be a boy.

His name will be Jonah.

Mathilde is like a whale.

Your nature of course.

I'm complimenting you.

Whales are fine.

Jonah will come out of your womb.

He fell out of the boat,

the ship of fools we're on.

He fell in the water

and you swallowed him

because you're good.

You saved his life

and now you're going to disgorge him.

It's him.

It's Jonah.

Jonah. I like it.

In the year 2000,

Jonah will be 25.

At 25, the century

will disgorge him.

Or vomit him up.

The whale of history will

disgorge Jonah,

who will be 25

in the year 2000.

That's the time left to us

to help him

get out of the mess.

One year later.

Did you pay for it all?

Here's the receipt.

Did you find a job?

You shouldn't talk

about what happened.

How are you going to live?

I'll go and stay with Marco.

You can't. It's on the other side.

They'll arrest you again.

It's breaking of parole.

I'll just hide.

I don't want to move around much.

Still, you have to do something.

Why? Do what?

Cash registers, assembly lines,

It's just like being inside.

I want to play.

We haven't played for months.

I couldn't.

I felt we were crazy.

So we are...

No. Not trains.

Prison.

Prison?

Yes, prison.

You're in a cell. What do I do?

You're someone I think about.

Who's that?

You decide.

You have to be a woman.

Why a woman?

I only saw women for 6 months.

You saw the priest, didn't you?

That gives me an idea.

They don't knock. They come in

like a doctor in a hospital.

My child, I shall tell you

the parable

of the wine grower and the peasant.

That's not it at all. The priest

wasn't gaga. He was young.

When I saw him I imagined him

making love.

You rot inside, just rot!

If I can't be a woman or the priest,

who can I be?

There wasn't anyone else.

The door of your cell.

A warden spies on you.

She's out!

Open! Open!

Shut up you slut!

You can't imagine

what's it's like being inside.

I have to type all

the chemical additives?

Yes. It's frightening.

We have to hurry to get
the paper out on time.

But there are 27 chemicals here.

I know.

But it's like Chinese

all 27 go on the same lettuce?

Why did you want to go to bed
with two girls?

I don't know.

Everyone dreams like that once.

That's a dream.

Tonight it's not a dream.

Will she be in there long?

She's washing her hair.

Why was she in jail?

She stole something.

Is she really pretty?

Since you let me choose,
I wouldn't

have brought you a loser.

And it's just this once.

You promised.

I know. O.K. I would have liked

to see her before.

Nights must be long in jail.

No. They're short.

It's the evenings that are long.

Some girls only talk about sex.

They get exited and masturbate.

Some become lesbians.

Anyway when they're inside.

Like her?

At first I couldn't take it.

Afterwards,

it's different from
what you imagine.

Funny how someone changes

when you touch their sex.

But if you take your hand away

and it changes again.

But if you love someone
it's different.

It's the same

before and after.

She's taking her time.

She'll be out soon.

Now you're going to hear

the singing of the whales.

The first one
who talk will be hanged.

Will this take long?

Long enough.

Hurry up.
I've got a lot to do.

Not right now.
Nothing better anyway.

There's the carrots.

The carrots can take care
of themselves.

You think so?

What are you doing?

I'm fed up

Stay they have to finish.

They'll finish without me.

Go back to your place.

Go back. The others have done it.

Your game make me sick.

Just 5 minutes. It's important.

What's so important?

You're fucking stupid.

What do you say?

I don't have to pay you to draw

on walls. I don't give a damn.

For a year you've done nothing.

I work with the kids.

I didn't hire you for that.

I hired you to get the shit.

Your school is too expensive.

We can't afford your wages.

They're your kids.

They can go to school.

School kills them.

You went to school. And I did.

And Marcel. We're no worse for it.

It can't go on. I pay taxes for

schools and then I pay you too.

Do you want to see the books?

Come and see them.

We can't grow vegetables

and support your school too.

Fuck the books. Are carrots more

to you than your kids?

The kids will manage.

You just make them

and they manage.

So do pigs. Are you pigs?

Pigs or not,

tomorrow they go to school.

Not yours. The other school.

And you get back to work. I'm not

paying you for not working.

Out of the question.

I've decided.

Not for me. I'll do something else.

Suit yourself. Tell me tomorrow.

I'm telling you now. Send them

to the slaughterhouse.

I'm keeping my pad, comrade-proprietor.
For Jonah.

Keep it if you want. For Jonah.

And fuck you.

A month later.

How many workers?

About a hundred. Or more.

Is it lousy?

Yes. It's shitty.

You should try the printer's.

I don't want to print anything.

You'll die of cold on your bike.

Yes.

Oh Marguerite the witch,

Oh Marco the philosopher,

Oh Marie the thief,

Oh Marcel the hermit,

Oh Mathilde my love,

Oh Max the former prophet,

Oh Madeleine the mad...

I'll try to keep

your hopes together

so they don't disappear.

I'm going back to work.
I'll be exploited.

I'll try to use

your hopes as levers.

I'm cold.

I'm in the 20th century, Jonah.

I'm only asked to keep quiet,

to accept everything.

I'm only permitted to do

what I'm paid to do.

I'm labour.

Labour on its bicycle.

Mother fucking red light.

It's cold early in the morning.

I'm thinking of my warm bed.

Jonah, the game isn't up.

Look at our lives! From the day

we learn to walk,

the day the army fires

on thousand of us.

From your first

reading lesson to the last

democratic decision:

To yield nothing

despite all threats.

Will it be better for you?

The better is systematically
put aside.

I say: nobody is to decide
for us anymore.

The first time nothing may happen.

The tenth time
there'll be a comittee.

The hundredth time a strike,

and another reading lesson

for you, Jonah.

As often as I ride

to work...

More.

As many times as the days of my life.

A pack of gauloise!

2 francs 30, please.

Yesterday it was 2 francs 10.

Prices go up. It's inflation.

One day in 1980

Needs change according
to men's situations.

There is a great difference

between natural man in nature

and natural man in society.

Emile is no savage to send

to the wilderness.

He is a savage made
to live in cities.