Paul Schrader

You've got your head so far up Obama's ass that all you can see is his shit anymore.

What the hell are you doing here? Haven't you heard? The CIA fell from the Berlin Wall and all the president's men can't put it back together again! It's broke! Not reliable. Not trustworthy. Can't stand up to the White House. Backstabbers. Watching porn, tapping phones. Best and brightest quit or retired. What in the name of Jesus Christ nailed to the cross are you doing here?

Because you heard the call. That's why. Your future spread out before you like a cruise-ship buffet. You were teaching in a classroom, working in a kitchen, training in a gym, and you heard the call. For some it was adventure. For some, mystique. For all, it was 9/11 and you heard the call, and it was the call of duty and love of country. Why? Because you have values!

The CIA has taken some hits. Some deserved. We've been down on the canvas, but we're on our feet again, because we've got no choice, and because our country needs us, and because we've got what? Values!

Saving someone's life is like falling in love. The best drug in the world. For days, sometimes weeks afterwards, you walk the streets, making infinite whatever you see. Once, for a few weeks, I couldn't feel the earth - everything I touched became lighter. Horns played in my shoes. Flowers fell from my pockets. You wonder if you've become immortal, as if you've saved your own life as well. God has passed through you. Why deny it, that for a moment there - why deny that for a moment there, God was you?

Oh, I see. With all the poor people of this city who wanted only to live and were viciously murdered, you have the nerve to sit here, wanting to die, and not go through with it? You make me sick!

I'd always had nightmares, but now the ghosts didn't wait for me to sleep. I drank every day. Help others and you help yourself, that was my motto, but I hadn't saved anyone in months. It seemed all my patients were dying. I'd waited, sure the sickness would break, tomorrow night, the next call, the feeling would drop away. More than anything else I wanted to sleep like that, close my eyes and drift away…

The street is so much more unpredictable than the ER and to prepare for the unexpected I was taught to act without thinking, like an army private who can take apart and reassemble a gun blindfolded. I realized that my training was useful in less than ten percent of the calls and saving someone's life was rarer than that. As the years went by I grew to understand that my role was less about saving lives than about bearing witness. I was a grief mop and much of my job was to remove, if even for a short time, the grief starter or the grief product. It was enough I simply showed up.

Taking credit when things go right doesn't work the other way.

We have rules against killing people on the streets, okay. It looks bad. There's a special room in the hospital for terminating. A nice quiet room with a big bed.

You have to keep the body going until the brain and the heart recover enough to go on their own.

Rose's ghost was getting closer. It had been six months since I lost her. A homeless girl, asthmatic, 18 years old. I used to block the bad calls out. I used to forget, but she wouldn't let go. And now she'd come to bear witness for all of them, all that had been lost. These spirits were part of the job. It was impossible to pass a building that didn't hold a ghost of something. The eyes of a corpse. The screams of a loved one. All bodies leave their mark. You cannot be near the newly dead without feeling it. I could handle that. What haunted me now was more savage. Spirits born half-finished. Homicides. Suicides. Overdoses. Accusing me of being there, witnessing a humiliation, which they could never forgive.

In the last year, I'd come to believe in such things... as spirits leaving the body and not wanting to be put back. Spirits angry at the awkward places death had left them. I understood how crazy it was to think this way. But I was convinced that if I turned around, I'd see old man Burke... standing at the window, watching, waiting for us to finish.

The biggest problem with not driving is whenever there's a patient in the back, you're in the back. The doors close. You're trapped.

5 or 6 in the morning is always the worst time for me. Just before dawn. Just when you've been lulled into thinking it might be safe to close your eyes for one minute. That's when I first found Rose. She was on the sidewalk, not breathing.

I washed my face with three kinds of soap, each smelling like a different season. It felt good to be in a woman's room again, especially a woman who wasn't comatose or severely disabled. I felt that perhaps I had turned a corner, like I saved someone, though I didn't know who.

The historical facts are known by everyone. All of Lawford, all of New Hampshire, some of Massachusetts. Facts do not make history. Our stories, Wade's and mine, describe the lives of the boys and men for thousands of years: boys who were beaten by their fathers, whose capacity for love and trust was crippled almost at birth, men whose best hope for connection with other human beings lay in detachment, as if life were over. It's how we keep from destroying in turn our own children and terrorizing the women who have the misfortune to love us; how we absent ourselves from the tradition of male violence; how we decline the seduction of revenge. Jack's truck turned up three days later in a shopping mall in Toronto. Wade killed Jack, just as surely as Jack did not kill Evan Twombley, even accidentally. The link between Jack and Twombley, LaRiviere and Mel Gordon existed only in Wade's wild imaginings. And briefly, I admit, in mine as well. LaRiviere and Mel Gordon were indeed in business. The Parker Mountain Ski Resort is now advertised across the country. The community of Lawford, as such, no longer exists. It is an economic zone between Littleton and Catamount. The house is still in Wade's name, and I keep paying taxes on it. It remains empty. Now and then, I drive out there and sit in my car, and wonder, why not let it go? Why not let LaRiviere buy it and build the condominiums he wants there? We want to believe Wade died that same November, froze to death on a bench or a sidewalk. You cannot understand how a man, a normal man, a man like you and me, could do such a terrible thing. Unless the police happen to arrest a vagrant who turns out to be Wade Whitehouse, there will be no more mention of him. Or his friend, Jack Hewitt. Or our father. The story will be over, except that I continue.

You will say that I should have known terrible things were about to happen. You will say that I was responsible. But even so, what could I have done by then? Wade lived on the edge of his emotions. He was always first to receive the brunt of our father's anger. He had no perspective to retreat to, even in a crisis.This is the story of my older brother's strange criminal behaviour and disappearance. We who loved him no longer speak of Wade. It's as if he never existed.

This is the story of my older brother's strange criminal behaviour and disappearance. We who loved him no longer speak of Wade. It's as if he never existed.

I was always careful around Pop. I was a careful child. And I'm a careful adult. But at least I was never afflicted with that man's anger.

Pop was okay but out of it. Worse than usual, maybe, but no drunker than usual.

Okay. It's likely there are people in the union who don't want Twombley to testify. That probably includes his son-in-law, who's vice president, and will probably be the next president.

want to know who my God is? Fear. You look inside me and that's all you'll find.

Lucifer is inside me. He says to me, "You're not the Son of King David. You're not a man. You're the Son of Man. And more, the Son of God. And more than that, God." Do you want to ask me anything else?

Father, will you listen to me? Are you still there? Will you listen to a selfish, unfaithful son? I fought you when you called, I resisted! I thought of no more. I didn't want to be your son! Can you forgive me?

Brothers, my old friends! Listen to me! It's me the prophets preached about. God talked to me in the desert; he gave me a secret and told me to bring it to you. Didn't you hear me coming? I ran here to Nazareth, where I grew up, to bring you the news. The word of God is here now.

The Messiah doesn't need miracles. He is the miracle. Now he's here. Are you ready for me? I'm here to tear down everything around you, and you know what I'm going to replace it with? Something new: God. The World of God. So take your bread and give it to the poor. What difference does it matter what you own? You have gold and silver? It's going to rot, and that rot is going to eat away your heart. All of you! There will be a flood, and there will be a fire. Everything will be destroyed. But there will be a new ark riding on that fire, and I hold the keys and I open the door, and I decide who goes in and who doesn't. You're my brothers from Nazareth, and you're the first I invite on the ark. Don't wait. Don't waste your life. Come with me.

Judas, my brother, I have something to tell you. I have a terrible secret from God. You know why I came to Jerusalem?

Last night, Isaiah came to me. He had a prophecy, I saw it written. It said, "He has borne our faults; he was wounded for our transgressions, yet he opened now his mouth. Despised and rejected by all, he went forward without resisting, like a lamb led to the slaughter."

Now I finally understand! All my life-all my life, I've been followed by voices, by footsteps, by shadows. And do you know what that shadow is? The cross. I have to die on the cross, and I have to die willingly. We have to go back to the temple.

If I could touch every stone, if I could breathe on every branch, they'd get up and follow me. So what's wrong with you?

The feeling begins. Very tender, very loving. Then the pain starts. Claws slip underneath the skin and tear their way up. Just before they reach my eyes, they dig in. And I remember. First I fasted for three months. I even whipped myself before I went to sleep. At first it worked. Then the pain came back. And the voices. They call me by name. Jesus.

I didn't say death! I said love! I said love!

The pain begins. It slides up my back and just before it gets to my eyes, it digs in its claws.

Who has never sinned? Who? Which one of you people has never sinned? Whoever that is, come up here! And throw these!

In the desert, the baptist warned us, God is coming. Well, I'm telling you it's too late! He's already here. I'm here! And I'm going to baptize everybody… with fire!

Do you think that God belongs only to you? He doesn't: God's an immortal spirit who belongs to everybody! To the whole world! You think, you are special? God is not an Israelite!

God is inside every one of us. The Devil is outside of us all around us in the World. In the sick and the rich.

You think it's a blessing to know what God wants? I'll tell you what he wants! He wants to push me over!

Father, will you listen to me? Are you still there? Will you listen to a selfish, unfaithful son? I fought you when you called, I resisted! I thought of no more. I didn't want to be your son! Can you forgive me? I didn't fight hard enough. Father, give me Your hand. I want to bring salvation! Father, take me back! Make a feast! Welcome me home! I want to be Your son! I want to pay the price! I want to be crucified and rise again! I WANT TO BE THE MESSIAH!

I'm not inviting you to a celebration. I'm inviting you to a war.

This is my heart. Take it. God is inside of us. The devil is outside us, in the world all around us. We'll pick up an axe, and cut the devil's throat. We'll fight him wherever he is. In the sick… in the rich… even in the temple. I'll lead you. If you have sheep, give them away. If you have a family, leave them. I believed in love.

Now I believe in this! Who's with me?

You're thirsty for justice! For people to treat you fairly, for people to treat you with respect. What I'm telling you is, whoever's hungry for justice, they are the ones who'll be blessed. They'll be filled with bread. They'll never be hungry again. They'll have the real value, the value of love. To love, share and comfort. They'll have the courage to do the good. And you, you're mourning. Mourners will be blessed. You'll have God to comfort you. You won't need men to do it. And the meek. They're the ones who'll be blessed. And the suffering, they'll be blessed, too. And the peacemakers and the merciful and the sick, and the poor, and the outcasts, you'll all be blessed because heaven is yours! And believe me, believe me, those who are laughing now, will be crying later.

I'm sorry, but, the easiest way to make myself clear is to tell you a story. A farmer was planting in his field. Some seed fell on the ground and the birds ate it. Some seed fell on rocks and dried up. But some seed. Some seed fell on rich soil and grew into enough wheat to feed a whole nation. Can you hear me?

Let me explain something to you. What do you think heaven's like? It's like a wedding. God's the bridegroom and man's spirit's the bride. The wedding takes place in heaven and everyone's invited. God's world is big enough for everyone.

I'm the end of the old law and the beginning of the new one.

I'm throwing away the law. I have a new law and a new hope.

Father in heaven. Father on earth. The world that you've created, that we can see, is beautiful. But the world that you've created, that we can't see, is beautiful, too. I don't know. I'm sorry, Father. I don't know which is more beautiful.

Oh, please, Father. I've been with you for so long. I never asked you to choose me. I always did as you said. You made many miracles for others. You opened the Red Sea for Moses. You saved Noah. You took Elijah to heaven in a fiery chariot and now you're asking me to be crucified. Can I ask you - one last time? Do I have to die? Is there any other way? You're offering me a cup and I don't want to drink what's in it. Please, take it away. Please, stop. Please, Father. Father. Please.

Listen to me. Take this bread. Share it together. This bread is my body. Now drink this wine. Pass the cup. This wine is my blood. Do this to remember me.

Loneliness has followed me my whole life, everywhere. In bars, in cars, sidewalks, stores, everywhere. There's no escape. I'm God's lonely man.

Listen, you fuckers, you screwheads. Here is a man who would not take it anymore. A man who stood up against the scum, the cunts, the dogs, the filth, the shit. Here is a man who stood up.

I realize now how much she's just like the others, cold and distant, and many people are like that, women for sure, they're like a union.

I first saw her at Palantine Campaign headquarters at 63rd and Broadway. She was wearing a white dress. She appeared like an angel. Out of this filthy mess, she is alone. They… cannot… touch… her.

June twenty-ninth. I gotta get in shape. Too much sitting has ruined my body. Too much abuse has gone on for too long. From now on there will be 50 pushups each morning, 50 pullups. There will be no more pills, no more bad food, no more destroyers of my body. From now on will be total organization. Every muscle must be tight.

I got some bad ideas in my head.

All the animals come out at night - whores, skunk pussies, buggers, queens, fairies, dopers, junkies, sick, venal. Someday a real rain will come and wash all this scum off the streets. I go all over. I take people to the Bronx, Brooklyn, I take 'em to Harlem. I don't care. Don't make no difference to me. It does to some. Some won't even take spooks. Don't make no difference to me.

Now I see this clearly. My whole life is pointed in one direction. There never has been a choice for me.

I'll tell you why. I think you're a lonely person. I drive by this place a lot and I see you here. I see a lot of people around you. And I see all these phones and all this stuff on your desk. It means nothing. Then when I came inside and I met you, I saw in your eyes and I saw the way you carried yourself that you're not a happy person. And I think you need something. And if you want to call it a friend, you can call it a friend.

Loneliness has followed me my whole life. Everywhere. In bars, in cars, sidewalks, stores, everywhere. There's no escape. I'm God's lonely man… June 8th. My life has taken another turn again. The days can go on with regularity over and over, one day indistinguishable from the next. A long continuous chain. Then suddenly, there is a change.

I would say he has quite a few problems. His energy seems to go in the wrong places. When I walked in and I saw you two sitting there, I could just tell by the way you were both relating that there was no connection whatsoever. And I felt when I walked in that there was something between us. There was an impulse that we were both following. So that gave me the right to come in and talk to you. Otherwise I never would have felt that I had the right to talk to you or say anything to you. I never would have had the courage to talk to you. And with him I felt there was nothing and I could sense it. When I walked in, I knew I was right. Did you feel that way?

Hey, I'm not square, you're the one that's square. You're full of shit, man. What are you talking about? You walk out with those fuckin' creeps and low-lifes and degenerates out on the streets and you sell your little pussy for peanuts? For some low-life pimp who stands in the hall? And I'm square? You're the one that's square, man. I don't go screwing fuck with a bunch of killers and junkies like you do. You call that bein' hip? What world are you from?

Hello Betsy. Hi, it's Travis. How ya doin'? Listen, uh, I'm, I'm sorry about the, the other night. I didn't know that was the way you felt about it. Well, I-I didn't know that was the way you felt. I-I-I would have taken ya somewhere else. Uh, are you feeling better or oh you maybe had a virus or somethin', a 24-hour virus you know. It happens. Yeah, umm, you uh, you're workin' hard. Yeah. Uh, would you like to have, uh, some dinner, uh with me in the next, you know, few days or somethin'? Well, how about just a cup of coffee? I'll come by the, uh, headquarters or somethin', we could, uh… Oh, OK, OK. Did you get my flowers in the…? You didn't get them. I sent some flowers, uh… Yeah, well, OK, OK. Can I call you again? Uh, tomorrow or the next day? OK. No, I'm gonna… OK. Yeah, sure, OK. So long.

May 10th. Thank God for the rain which has helped wash away the garbage and trash off the sidewalks. I'm workin' long hours now, six in the afternoon to six in the morning. Sometimes even eight in the morning, six days a week. Sometimes seven days a week. It's a long hustle but it keeps me real busy. I can take in three, three fifty a week. Sometimes even more when I do it off the meter. All the animals come out at night - whores, skunk pussies, buggers, queens, fairies, dopers, junkies, sick, venal. Someday a real rain will come and wash all this scum off the streets. I go all over. I take people to the Bronx, Brooklyn, I take 'em to Harlem. I don't care. Don't make no difference to me. It does to some. Some won't even take spooks. Don't make no difference to me.

Dear Father and Mother: July is the month I remember which brings not only your wedding anniversary but also Father's Day and Mother's birthday. I'm sorry I can't remember the exact dates, but I hope this card will take care of them all. I'm sorry again I cannot send you my address like I promised to last year. But the sensitive nature of my work for the government demands utmost secrecy. I know you will understand. I am healthy and well and making lots of money. I have been going with a girl for several months and I know you would be proud if you could see her. Her name is Betsy but I can tell you no more than that… I hope this card finds you all well as it does me. I hope no one has died. Don't worry about me. One day, they'll be a knock on the door and it'll be me. Love Travis.

You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me?

Each night when I return the cab to the garage, I have to clean the cum off the back seat. Some nights, I clean off the blood.

June 29th. I gotta get in shape now. Too much sittin' is ruinin' my body. Too much abuse has gone on for too long. From now on, it will be fifty push-ups each morning, fifty pull-ups. There'll be no more pills, there'll be no more bad food, no more destroyers of my body. From now on, it will be total organization. Every muscle must be tight.

Dear Iris: This money should be used for your trip. By the time you read this, I will be dead. Travis.

All my life needed was a sense of someplace to go. I don't believe that one should devote his life to morbid self-attention. I believe that someone should become a person like other people.

May 26th. Four o'clock p.m. I took Betsy to Charles Coffee Shop on Columbus Circle. I had black coffee and apple pie with a slice of melted yellow cheese. I think that was a good selection. Betsy had coffee and a fruit salad dish. She could have had anything she wanted.

I realize now how much she's just like the others - cold and distant, and many people are like that. Women for sure. They're like a union.

The idea had been growing in my brain for some time. True force. All the king's men cannot put it back together again.

I called Betsy again at her office and she said maybe we'd go to a movie together after she gets off work tomorrow. That's my day off. At first she hesitated but I called her again and then she agreed. Betsy, Betsy. Oh no, Betsy what? I forgot to ask her last name again. Damn. I got to remember stuff like that.

Loneliness has followed me my whole life. Everywhere. In bars, in cars, sidewalks, stores, everywhere. There's no escape. I'm God's lonely man. June 8th. My life has taken another turn again. The days can go on with regularity over and over, one day indistinguishable from the next. A long continuous chain. Then suddenly, there is a change.