All language subtitles for The Twilight Zone s02e29 The Obsolete Man.eng

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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.

Wordsworth. Romney.
Obsolescence.

He's waiting, chancellor.

Order him in.

Wordsworth.

Romney.

Obsolescence.

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
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, mr. Wordsworth,

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.

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.

Iama librarian, sir.

Thatismy 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.

And you persist
in declaring

your occupation as
being a librarian.

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.

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!

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!

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,

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.

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.

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-

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.

Last year,
in the mass executions,

we televised around the clock.

1,300 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 right idea.

Yes, hitler.

Hitler, of course.

Stalin.
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 clutch at the past
and won't accept the new.

The sick, the maimed,
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.

And 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 going
to be blown to bits

within a half an hour?

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, wordsworth.

Shoe on the other
foot- that's the idea?

It's one thing for you

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 awhile.

They wouldn't want
to 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 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
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 namesake.

"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 transgression,

"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..."

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.

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.

Obsolete, obsolete.

You are obsolete.

Obsolete...

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?!

Please, i'm not obsolete.

I...

please, i...
please, i'm not obsolete.

L-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!

I want to serve the state.

Please, please!

No!

I want to serve the state.

Please, i'm... i'm not obsolete.

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.

Rod serling,
creator ofthe 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.

Be sure and watchgunsmoke,
starring james arness,

saturday nights over most
of these same stations.

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