All language subtitles for 147-Sounds and Silences-eng

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You unlock this door
with the key of imagination.

Beyond it is another dimension-

a dimension of sound,

a dimension of sight,

a dimension of mind.

You're moving into a land
of both shadow and substance,

of things and ideas.

You've just crossed over
into the twilight zone.

Let's get with it,
conklin!

A tight office
is a happy office.

Idle hands make
for an unproductive poop deck.

Belay that,
miss abernathy.

Extraneous activity is
nothing more nor less

than sloppy seamanship,
in a manner of speaking.

You there,
fenstermacher!

Let's keep
an even keel there,

in a manner
of speaking.

Let's keep
an even keel there, man.

To all of you...

bear in mind
that we must all of us go aft,

climb up the old mast and,
in a manner of speaking,

set our sights
to a distant horizon.

Tight ship! A happy ship!

Damn the torpedoes
of competition

and full speed ahead!

Well shot, mr. Conklin.

Right between
captain bligh's eyeballs.

He's an exceptional voice;
my ears are still ringing.

You know, that fat boy
is headed for mutiny?

Where would you find a plank
heavy enough to hold him?

When i think of
all the kamikazes

they threw at us
during the war,

wouldn't you think
justonewould
have hithim?

One of these days...

one of these days,
all that noise

is going to come back
and bite him.

I hope i'm around
to see it happen.

This is roswell g. Flemington-

220 pounds of gristle,
lung tissue and sound decibels.

He is, as you have perceived,
a noisy man;

one of a breed who substitutes
volume for substance,

sound for significance,

and shouting to cover up
the readily apparent phenomena

that he is nothing more

than an overweight
and aging perennial sea scout

whose noisemaking
is in inverse ratio

to his competence
and to his character.

But soon, our would-be admiral
of the fleet

will embark on another voyage.

This one is an unchartered
and twisting stream

that heads for a distant port
called... the twilight zone.

Hello?

Hello?!

Who?

Oh, just a moment.
I can't hear you.

Please.

Roswell! Roswell!

Could you turn that down
just a little bit?

I can't hear a thing
on the telephone!

Do you know what that is, madam?

Collector's item.

The actual sounds
of the battleshipmissouri

bombarding okinawa!

But i can't hear
who's on the phone!

Lay on, gentlemen,
and let 'em know what's what!

Fire at will!

And by the good lord harry,

we'll show them
how the navy treats aggression!

And that, madam,
was an act of utter abomination

and the most callous vandalism.

May i remind you

that those were
the actual sounds

of the battleshipmissouri
bombarding okinawa?!

And there were
only 100

such records in existence.

Now there are only 99.

What you have done, madam,
is an act of desecration

not unlike the defacing
of a statue of john paul jones.

What are you, madam,
some sort of a fanatic?

Roswell, we've had
this out before.

What was once an
idiosyncracy of yours

is now an obsession.

This-this insistence
on blaring noises

and running a household

like it was a destroyer
escort on convoy duty-

the combination has now
become quite impossible,

and i can't live with it.

Stand, madam!

Oh, knock it off, roswell.

You are an insufferable,
noisy clown,

but you are not stupid!

I have had
you up to here,

and my ears
have had you,

and my stomach
lining has had you,

and whatever
part of the brain

that keeps a
person balanced-

that's had you, too.

In short, roswell,
ihave had you!

I am absolutely and completely
thunderstruck!

Are you, now?

I am, indeed.

My own wife-
and after 20 years!

20 years ago, roswell,
i wasn't taken in marriage.

I waspipedaboard.

And after 20 years,
the shrill piping

has become absolutely
unbearable.

So, at this point, roswell,
i'm leaving,

in a manner of speaking,
the ship's company!

You're deserting me!

In a manner of speaking,
roswell, you said it!

It wasn't locked,
roswell.

It might interest
you to know, madam,

that when i was
a young chap,

i had a mother who
insisted she was ill.

She was a whiny, petulant,
complaining female

similar to yourself.

And when i would come
home from school,

she would make me walk tiptoe
and whisper.

Whisper... whisper... whisper.

You know, in our house,

we never had any cookies.

All we had were fudge brownies,

because they made less noise
when you chewed them.

"Eat your brownie

"and run upstairs and change,

but keep it quiet."

And i tell you, madam,
i had quite enough of that!

And that is why
i went to sea!

And that is why
i've spent my life

in the very wholesome, healthy
and quite understandable pursuit

of the free and the unfettered.

And that is why
i am the owner,

manager, chairman of the board
and president

of the roswell g. Flemington
model ship company-

second to none in the field!

Whose motto is,
"damn the torpedoes,

full steam ahead
for fun and profits."

I know the company, i know
the president, i know the motto.

And i respond,
mr. Roswell g. Flemington,

with the following
nautical phrase

whichihave now taken to heart
and will proceed to implement.

The phrase is,
"lay aft, and dump the garbage!"

So, in a manner
of speaking,

consider yourself
dumped!

"Flight deck sounds of aircraft

leaving the carrierhornet."

Good riddance, madam!

I have never liked you.

I have simply suffered you.

Well?

Nothing abnormal,
mr. Flemington.

No excess wax, no
obstruction of any kind,

no inflammation.

By the great lord harry,

candor dictates, doctor,
that i tell you

that as a ship's surgeon,
you wouldn't make a cabin boy

in a manner of speaking.

Frankly, i
think consulting
another physician

might be an extremely
practical idea.

I only wish you'd had a modicum
of professional ethics

and given me this advice
before you went through

the motions of this
perfunctory examination.

As it is, i shall be
dunned with your bill

as well as the bill of
another ear specialist.

In point of fact,
mr. Flemington,

i wasn't going to recommend
another ear specialist.

Now, i had in mind
perhaps some, uh, well...

some psychiatric help.

I presume you
are being humorous, sir.

It is only that
charitable outlook

that prevents your
being called to accounts.

Psychiatrist, eh?

Well, let me
tell you, doctor-

and i use
the term loosely-

there are few people
walking this earth

as sane as i am.

I bid you good day, sir.

Good day.

What do you suppose
happened to lardhead?

Count your blessings, honey.

I've been here four years,

and this is the first
time he's been late.

Wouldn't it be
marvelous if his car

fell off the ferryboat
with him in it?

The millennium, the
absolute millennium.

Thus endeth the dream.

Good morning, mr. Flem-

i've been here five years
and that's the first time

he's walked in
without telling me

that the smoking lamp
was not lit

and that we had to move
full speed ahead

toward the shores
of prosperity.

Maybe he's sick.

Something incurable,
like barnacles on the brain.

Very good.

Conklin, get out your darts.

Only forget the portrait-
shoot for the record.

That's odd.

Very odd.

I've been here ten years

and that's the first time
i've seen him look frightened.

Let's keep it
quiet out here.

I was just...

with your permission,
mr. Flemington,

new shoes.

What have you
got in them,

pipe organs?

This ship has
got to shape up.

Repeat- shape up.

Noise is
not efficiency.

Let's secure now.

And watch this noise.

Yes, sir.

Unless i'm very much mistaken,

it is one of those very odd
phenomena, aural suggestion.

A person talks himself
into believing occurrences

when they are
figments of imagination.

Beyond that, there is
definitely some suggestion

that you are
resentful of your mother.

And have a preoccupation
with her imaginary ailments.

My guess for the moment

would be that this feeling
extended itself to your wife

who provided you with
a similar mother image.

But i can tell you this,
mr. Flemington,

and forgive me
if i repeat myself:

These occurrences are pure
figments of imagination.

I believe
that, doctor.

Now, snap your fingers.

Well, do you
think i, uh...

go ahead,
snap your fingers.

Any abnormal sound?

Normal!

Stamp your feet.

Normal again?

Happily, delightfully,
comfortingly normal.

You've cured
me, doctor.

By the good lord harry,

if admiral nelson had
had you at trafalgar,

he'd have saved
both his eye and his arm.

In naval parlance,
sir, you're 4.0.

4.0, sir, in a
manner of speaking.

That's all right,
mr. Flemington.

Slam it at will,
be my guest.

You, sir, have
the soul of a seaman.

Bless you.

Incredible.

Absolutely incredible.

Mind over matter.

My wife obviously the culprit

a miserable preoccupation
with noise

literally planted
the seed in my head.

Incredible what
one crew member can do

to a whole ship's company.

And the whole business,
mind over matter.

Madam, you
are not welcome

on this particular
quarter deck.

Nor shall i
stay here, admiral.

I forgot some
of my jewelry.

I will retrieve same

and then, whether you
pipe me ashore or not,

that's precisely
where i'll be heading.

And might i add this, madam...

despite your efforts
to capsize this worthy vessel,

in a manner of speaking,

against the rocks and
hidden shoals of petulance

and petty dissatisfaction,
the ship remains tight

and all your efforts,
worthless and wasteful.

Horatio, old pal,

let the following
be my final comments:

You are an overgrown sailor boy

with an undermanned head.

You are so full
of incredible neuroses

that i wonder that you
haven't cracked before this.

Belay that, madam, belay that.

It just so happens i have had
a psychiatric examination,

and if there is one thing
wrong with me, it is you.

It is simply you.

And furthermore, madam,

i can tell you
one other thing:

The whole business
is mind over matter.

Totally and absolutely
mind over matter.

Do you know what
i can do to you?

I can shut you off.

Do you realize that?

I can literally shut you off

because i am a man
of such incredible will

that i can do
anything i want to do.

Now, go ahead.

Yell at me.

Go on, yell at me.

Because even now,
at this moment

i am in the process of
exercising mind over matter.

I am shutting you...

out.

Flemington, i really
do wonder about you.

I wonder why no
one has committed you.

I really-

see! See!

I have shut you out.

Go on,
talk some more.

Really, roswell,
you do need help.

You really do need help.

Incredible... mind over matter.

I want to shut her out,
i simply shut her out.

Now, then.

What shall we listen to tonight?

"Anchors aweigh"?

"Midshipmans' march"?

Let's see.

"Actual sounds
of japanese destroyer

"exploding in lada bay.

"Complete with boiler hissings,

fantail cracking
and smokestack exploding."

Great, great.

Better get ready out there.

This will
galvanize you properly.

Louder! Louder!

Make more noise.

Let's hear it.

Come on, let's hear it.

Louder!

When last heard from

mr. Roswell g. Flemington
was in a sanitarium

pleading with the medical staff
to make some noise.

They believed the case
to be a rather tragic aberration

a man's mind becoming unhinged.

And for this, they'll give him
pills, therapy and rest.

Little do they realize that all
mr. Flemington is suffering from

is a case of poetic justice.

Tonight's tale
of sounds and silences

from the twilight zone.

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