Barry: I should hang; Im a hypocrite. I ask for sincerity and I lie. I denounce the system as I embrace it. I want money and power and prestige: I want ratings and success. And I dont give a damn about you, or the world. Thats the truth: for that I could say Im sorry, but I wont. Why should I? I mean who the hell are you anyways you... audience! Youre on me every night like a pack of wolves because you cant stand facing what you are and what youve made! Yes, the world is a terrible place. Yes, cancer and garbage disposals will get you. Yes, a war is coming. Yes, the world is shot to hell and youre all goners. Everythings screwed up and you like it that way dont you? Youre fascinated by the gory details. Youre mesmerized by your own fear. You revel in floods and car accidents, unstoppable diseases. Youre happiest when others are in pain. Thats where I come in, isnt it? Im here to lead you by the hands through the dark forest of your own hatred and anger and humiliation. Im providing a public service. Youre so scared. Youre like a little child under the covers. Youre afraid of the boogeyman but you cant live without him. Your fear; your own lives have become your entertainment. Next month, millions of people are going to be listening to this show and youll have nothing to talk about! Marvelous technology is at our disposal, and instead of reaching up to new heights, were gonna see how far down we can go! How deep into the muck we can immerse ourselves! What do you wanna talk about, hm? Baseball scores? Your pet? Orgasms? Youre pathetic. I despise each and every one of you. Youve got nothing, absolutely nothing. No brains, no power, no future, no hope, no God. The only thing you believe in is me. What are you if you dont have me. Im not afraid see. I come in here every night, I make my case, I make my point, I say what I believe in. I tell you what you are, I have to, I have no choice! You frighten me! I come in here every night, I tear into you, I abuse you, I insult you, you just keep coming back for more. Whats wrong with you, why do you keep calling? I dont wanna hear anymore, stop talking! Go away! Bunch of yellow-bellied, spineless, bigoted, quivering, drunken, insomnia-tic, paranoid, disgusting, perverted, voyeuristic, little obscene phone callers, thats what you are. Well to Hell with you. I dont need your ferior stupidity, you dont get it. Its wasted on you. Pearls before swine. If one person out there had any idea what Im talking about... I... [answers caller] Barry: friend youre on night talk. Talk Radio (1998) - directed by Oliver Stone, written by Eric Bogosian and Oliver Stone, based on the play by Eric Bogosian and Tad Savinar.
Posted on: Thu, 20 Nov 2014 07:13:24 +0000
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