All language subtitles for In Praise of Nothing.eng

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IN PRAISE OF NOTHING

a whistleblowing documentary parody

not exactly in prose

wherein Nothing

tries to defend its cause.

[One day, Nothing runs away
from home, tired of being misunderstood.]

[It crosses 8 mountains and 8 seas…

...and arrives in our lost valley.]

Finally-

our first

date.

Not sure if I came

early

or late.

I've got so much to tell you

but I'm still wondering how.

I don't wanna suck up to you

nor make you bow.

There has never been a less exciting time

to be behind a camera,

on that I agree,

so let's set up this game
a little bit differently.

We will skip talking heads
and expert analysis,

special effects and
cultural paralysis.

No classic twists,

no money shots,

no side characters,

no subplots.

No saving the world,

no noble pretentions,

just portraits of you and me

in everyday situations

And a few lines of comments

to frame the debate,

just to make sure

that you will bite the bait.

[Nothing slides down a blank page
and descends among us.]

But who am I
to say "I" or "we"?

Am I really Nothing

or just my ego's mercenary?

They say I can only be
hinted at and never shown

unlike any other thing
currently unknown.

But I am actually there in every shot

If you bother to find me

If you don't,

imagine that what you see

is what I see.

Or just enjoy the scenery

and let your mind roam freely.

And don't worry -

I certainly won't take it personally.

[Nothing adjusts its belt.]

I know I shouldn't start
my sentences with "I"

and they warned me
not to ask too much "why"

but I think it's nice
to be an "I" who asks "why"

so I will try.

I came from God knows where

but I too now want everything quickly.

Can't believe I'm losing my patience

after being used to eternity.

Seems like I've caught
a typical local malady -

some strange sense of entitlement
has gotten hold of me.

I suddenly feel I deserve more
than I deserved previously

and I get bothered so easily,

even my brand new self-image
is ashamed of me.

I don't flinch at global misery

but I get disturbed significantly

by a stray bee
that invades my privacy.

By a fat person that
dares to walk in front of me.

By unsupervised
children playing loudly.

By dishes that don't wash
themselves instantly.

By a telephone that rings persistently.

By the size of my best friend's salary.

By the slightest awareness
of my own hypocrisy...

I don't know how to deal with this,

I hope that it's just temporary.

I almost wish that
someone had warned me,

but I guess that would have spoiled

the wisdom

of discovery.

[Nothing admits its knowledge of our world
used to be exactly opposite to ours.]

All I knew about love

was from letters that were never sent.

All I knew about faith

was from scavenging leftovers of dissent.

All I knew about you

was from things that you didn't do.

The words you never said.

The books you never read.

The ideas you never picked up.

The possibilities you never knew.

Now I see I have a lot to catch up.

Don't you?

[We don’t - and Nothing starts to feel rather unwelcome.]

I feel stalked.

I feel like a Stalker.

I wanted to help,

but you are boycotting my offer.

Confusion,

depression,

emptiness,

delusion,

obsession,

loneliness...

You are wrong to accuse me
for every line in your psychiatric history.

Sorry,

there's no shortcut out of purgatory.

No V.I.P.,

no duty-free,

no return policy,

no money-back guarantee -

Just a few lucky stars

and your own personal gravity.

Cruising altitude is a mirage,

the battle rages on,

whatever the paysage.

So don't blame me

when things get hard,

all I am doing

is letting you play in my backyard.

[Nothing is starting to get judgmental.]

I understand that it is hard to live

either with or without opinions,

alone among billions,

on a tiny star surrounded by trillions.

All your hopes of
persisting and transcending

end up in anti-climactic forgetting.

All your efforts to leave a mark

become at best

someone else's spark.

Realizing how small and
insignificant you are

cannot be compensated
by the size of your car,

a big tab at the bar,

a sexy avatar,

a smashed guitar

or one last cigar.

All I know is that you are afraid,

that your parking is paid,

that you want to get laid,

and that beyond this

your brain is marmalade.

[The truth is that Nothing is just as confused as we are,
but it eventually succeeds at grasping human nature.]

Live a balanced depression

Consume your fate

Do what you're told to like

Don't be late

Blend your virtues and sins

Insure your rise and fall

Hang on to your future

and broadcast it all.

[Yet Nothing remains sympathetic to our weaknesses,
and even adopts a few on its own.]

I like sweating

I like doubting

I like cabaret

I like tabouleh

I like worn out shoes

I like prison blues

I like rakija

more than wine.

I like beauty.

Not necessarily great beauty,

medium is fine.

And I have only one thing to say to History:

The question is not

how can there be poetry after Holocausts,

but how can there be Holocausts

after poetry?!

[Inspired, Nothing tries to adapt,
but things don’t go so smoothly.]

I slid into a lake
which was perfectly quiet,

but they kicked me out

because all the lakes
are now private.

I forged a bicycle path
across a new scenery

but I crashed miserably
when I tried to do it hands free.

I decided to travel light

but I ran out of clean underwear
the very first night.

I endured pain
in front of my buddies

but the girl went for the one
with more monies.

I reminded friends
of things that were free

but they turned each of them
into a profitable industry.

I wanted to help people
anonymously

but the cops
shot at me.

I tried to do everything

and then something

and then

anything

but it's hard to succeed

when you are Nothing.

[Yet Nothing feels too proud to go on welfare.]

I think I am the ideal candidate
for this job because...

I feel like a contemporary of
all the great minds in history

and a resident of the most
photogenic places on earth.

I think good and evil can't exist
without each other, and change,

even small change is what keeps
our minds and economies squirt.

I have no future, no past,
no friends and no money

but I'm paying for your virtues
and your attempts to be funny.

I am great at managing time

and I can always jump in
when someone forgets their line.

Team work is my specialty -

the greater the challenge,
the more you can count on me.

I'm willing to relocate
much more than you can anticipate

and I will outdate
even your youngest candidate.

I'm persistent, resistant,
always available,

malleable, reliable,
never failable -

I even know how the world will end and...
everything else that you couldn't have planned.

[No replies.]

I stole a tomato from a field in Italy

and it still tasted like shit.

In prison I tamed an ant

but nobody could see it.

I meditated for 62 years

but not a tourist would tip.

I tried not to care about the competition

but ends-of-months made me flip.

I shared all my possessions

until the white men said stop.

I empathized with nature

but birds and bugs ate my crop.

I lived up to what I believed in

until I broke bad.

I spent all my life doing good

then I became mad.

[For reasons not apprehendable to Man,
Nothing keeps talking in rhyme, all the time.]

Not to be

or to be?

Why bother in all this banality?

"If"

is a space.

"Why"

is time.

When you are happy or dead

neither is worth a dime.

If pictures create memories,

what does a surplus of pictures create?

The future of shopping will not be to buy

but to eliminate.

When your wife and kids want
something more than a full stomach

take away something they already have

then give it back.

The most elegant gesture
of the human body

is the act of refraining from action.

The most elegant gesture
of the human mind

is avoiding distraction.

What do you mean -
I shouldn't talk, shouldn't formalize?

Shouldn't suggest answers,
shouldn't verbalize?

Too easy.

Insist on any armimal or tree
and get philosophy?

Make any shot too lengthy
and get poetry?!

Fit your screenplay on a napkin
and claim humility?!

Film simple people uncritically
and redeem modernity??

Fuck that, baby.

We're beyond that.

Maybe.

OK, I agree.

Maybe it's just me.

Maybe I'm just a sarcastic old fuck

and life is as sweet as
you would like it to be.

[Soon after, of course, Nothing falls in love.]

Throw me a glove,

cry me a dove,

earthly love

is impossible love.

Particles and anti-particles
keep cancelling each other.

Why would then men & women bother?

Can't live with each other,

can't do without,

cool off

or burn out.

Your children will sell you
for a faster telephone

Your parents, for the right
to be alone.

Your partner, for a new hormone.

You like strawberry,

she likes quantumberry.

She wants to marry,

you want Tom & Jerry.

Faithful or not,

always an idiot.

The casting

rarely matches the plot.

[Nothing’s promiscuity draws international attention.
Americans spend a fortune trying to buy Nothing:]

"Listen,

we know you're right

but we can't let you win.

Come work for us

and become the ultimate sin.

Our policy is simple:

Decide & conquer.

We don't even hide it,

we are raw power.

Your job will be to generate fear

so that demand always beats supply
at the end of the year.

In the meantime,

we'll bullet-proof the boutique,

assimilate all critique,

spread freedom with our armed forces,

trade entertainment for natural resources

and blackmail the world
with paper value

until the last patch of our lies
becomes true."

To this I replied
with the following defence:

Thank you, dear friends,

you are my favorite clients.

But in your Disneyland of the free,

allow me to disagree -

You are too fat
to fit my glass menagerie.

What you are imposing on your subjects
is a wrong therapy -

charging them for the placebo that is
- money.

OK, the pills and thrills and frills

but life shouldn't be printed
on fake dollar bills.

People would love
to try your dream

but only at their own steam.

Work to live,

not live to work.

Press pause,

smell the cork.

There's nothing scary on a blank wall

nor in living life without a lucrative goal.

And talking about fear -

you're the ones
who should play the main role.

At the rate at which
you suck everything in,

you are this planet's
black hole.

[Asians try to clone Nothing:]

"Listen,

you're one of us

and you've always been.

We were the first to treat you

as our next of kin.

Numbers always work out
to our advantage,

nevermind our
limited sleeping mileage.

We make up one half of the planet,

just wait 'til we all
discover the internet.

We have 99 ideograms for Nothing
and 69 holograms for vagina,

even the Emperor's new clothes
are now made in China.

Let us mass-produce you
with our 12D printers,

with special pricing
for early-bird hipsters.

Too late now to erase the ego -

now it must be pleased
or face vertigo."

To this I replied
with the following defence:

Thank you
numerous friends,

I owe you my licence.

I understand my position
is central to your being

but you know that on an absolute level
I neither oppose nor support anything.

I appreciate the elegance
of your calligraphy,

the spirituality of your tea ceremony,

the negative space in your painting,

your meditations on the verge of fainting,

your practical tips about breathing,

your casual flirting with non-being...

But with all due respect to your might,

just because you can do everything

doesn't mean that you are right.

What you need, I think,

is to practice Kama Sutra

in a version that's
a bit more platonic.

Unite with the cosmos

in any single pixel

but sustain your lust

against every daily tickle.

Learn to let go off your omnipotence.

Take seriously your vow of balance.

And if other powers
want to make you sway,

dont worry.

Bruce Lee is alive

and he's on his way.

[Arabs try to re-tame Nothing:]

"Listen,

you know that we are right,

no need to wait for the
thousand and first night.

We invented coffee,
clean shave and algebra

and even what would
later become your camera.

We also saved the
classical knowledge of Antiquity

and gave prominent importance
to the notion of virginity.

We've been both cursed
and blessed by nature,

this always results in
an unpredictable mixture.

There's no money now
that we cannot spend.

Our goal is to create life

out of sand.

Welcome to our big
traditional family.

You'll be treated as our
newest common luxury."

To this I replied
with the following defence:

Thank you
honorable friends,

I admire your persistence.

Conjure me from a lamp,

anytime you need my stamp.

History has not treated you gently

but you are also
stretching time vigorously.

You gained my sympathy
by surviving in harsh conditions

but kinda disappointed me
with your current positions.

I don't think you should
impose your point of view,

neither upon the desert
nor upon the likes of you.

Feel free to advertise your alchemy

but don't take anyone else's
for blasphemy.

People won't accept fasting
unless you call it detox -

promises of heaven are already
clogging up their mailbox.

I wish you happy existential battles

in your sand and gold castles.

For anything else,

God have mercy,

but the final bill

is on me.

[Europeans are still discussing what to do with Nothing:]

"Listen,

let's first agree that we need
to set up a special committee.

Such a critical development
deserves outmost consideration -

it requires the consent of our entire
dysfunctional confederation.

We must establish a proper
explanatory framework for this question,

otherwise our policy will remain
just a vain suggestion.

Our goal is that everyone
feels they have gained something

but that we, of course,
remain on top of everything."

To this I replied with
the following defence:

Thank you old friends,

cheers to your eloquence.

You speak most fluently

but your verbal masturbation
fails me.

Dozens of alleged winners
and no proclaimed losers,

seems like you're jumping
into very tight trousers.

I didn't really get your proposal

but I see your frustrations.

Futility should be the subject
of your next strikes and demonstrations.

Condemned to be free

but fearing the freedom of others.

Imitating obnoxiously

your enemies and mothers...

Your noble arrogance
doesn't do it for me -

only tourists can be fooled
by your complex of superiority.

Each nation can be proud
of fragments of its history

but none of its entirety.

And even fewer should claim

any monopoly on morality.

Your reluctance to assimilate me

is in fact a key syndrome
of your drudgery.

Adopt me

or become your own failed colony.

[The rest of world believes Nothing can help them:]

"Listen,

we have nothing to offer you,

we just do what we are told to.

Paper-wall democracy
and profits for the few -

they convince you grindingly
that it's good for you.

Sometimes, if we are
particularly good,

they clean our files
and gentrify our mood.

They insist we're not screwed

when they hybridize our food

and dismiss our proud beliefs

as a mere historical interlude.

Deep inside we know
we're nat so autistic

but our reply to this
is either agnostic

or fatalistic.

We feel that we know you
and that we can trust you -

please advise us,
what should we do?"

To this I replied
with the following stance:

Well, global friends,

it is time to make amends.

Never mind the size of your shoes -

if you want to win,
you must not lose.

If you don't sacrifice yourself
no one will,

kicking history between the legs
requires no special skill.

We're all intelligent in different ways,

there are infinite possibilities
to get out of this maze.

Defend your territory,

both mental and physical,

all it takes is a few authentic,
non-CIA heroes

to set the example.

If that's not exactly you,

here's what else you could do:

Don't give them
what they want to hear -

just ignore them
when they come near.

Don't even bother to
challenge their prejudice,

even acknowledging it
would make you their accomplice.

Over time they will choose
weaker nuts to crack -

resist radically

and never turn back.

[A Russian poet then came to the edge of the world
and spat at Nothing.]

That was actually...

nice!

Thanks twice.

Now I see the power of your brand

and that it is actually
possible to make a stand.

Skip auditions -

dodge tuitions -

discard permissions -

shortcut ignitions -

ignore definitions -

praise intuitions -

invoke contradictions -

embrace oppositions -

and do keep your receipts -

One day I will really wash

all this scum off the streets.

From now on,

every thought must be tight.

It will be 20 tautologies

and 30 euphemisms every night.

Myth-busting for the shy & quiet -

an instant new post-ideological diet.

A smart cold digital heart.

Empathy -

only a la carte.

You're talking to me?

[Once again, Nothing’s noble threats
get very little attention.]

Is it me you're talking to?!

Time is shrinking,

the angels are drinking,

the Gods stopped playing
punishment & crime.

Tom Waits is retiring,

deadlines are expiring,

for no one
the bells chime.

No matter how you feel touche,

all I say will one day be cliche.

No matter how sleazy,

we will always look up to the bourgeoisie.

And the wind of the north,

freezes my snort.

And the wind from the south,

blows sand in my mouth.

And the wind from the west,

failed the drug test.

And the wind from the east,

I caught

but I missed.

[Desperate, Nothing starts a blog
on tactical pauses during sexual intercourse.]

These were actually
just notes from my diary

but someone took
them very explicitly.

Curved geometry
remains a mystery

unless you study the matter
a bit more deeply.

The intensity of the celebration

is directly proportional

to the period of
abstinence and stimulation.

The pauses between the notes

is what earned me the most votes.

Your preferences
they are like mine,

I heard it through
the grapevine.

Me.

You.

Library.

Now?

Wow!

Wow!

Wow!

Wow!

[But all it took for Nothing's popularity to explode
was one explicit selfie.]

[Success, though, comes at a price.]

Being famous and bitter

is worse than becoming
revolutionary litter.

I got trapped in my own curse -

I kept bullshitting,
but it filled my purse.

Vomiting my rhymes
as the agents advised -

Enough now?

We got prized.

Starring in docu-soaps
about fallen prophets,

baptizing galaxies,
comets and rockets,

Giving silent
motivational speeches,

bleaching sand
on polluted beaches.

Claiming copyright
on creativity in general,

on zero and infinity
and all things ephemeral.

Getting filthy rich
on apparitions of Nothing -

coining notoriously:

"Why something

instead of...

anything?"

[Despising itself more and more,
Nothing tries at least to be useful.]

Ha!

Indulgence is very cheap these days

but I have always preferred
my own ways:

Recycling the energy
of fallen enthusiasts -

Licking the wounds
of broken iconoclasts -

Granting sinners
essential silence -

Fine-tuning your
work-and-family balance -

Extending, then shortening
waiting times -

Teaching people tricks
for queuing in lines -

Making them lose
what they would later find -

helping them see
before they go blind -

Discouraging kids
from surplus toys -

Abolishing logos
and violent joys -

Insuring talents
against jury decisions -

Macheting the jungle to
clear space for their visions -

Turning philosophical
when people ask for direction -

Crisis-managing death
to near-perfaction.

Pointing inside
your playboy gaze -

Enamoring you,
without the self-praise -

Making you check twice
before you click SEND -

Stopping movies
10 minutes before they end -

Mixing up price tags of riches and

[Too late. The industry has got Nothing by the balls.]

"Mr. Nothing!
Mr. Nothing!"

"Can you describe
a perfectly empty room?"

"Is old too old?"

"Do you have a personal opinion
on top of the corporate one?"

"You claim you came into being
like everyone else -

by love
or misunderstanding.

What did you mean by 'love'?"

"You refuse to answer where you are coming from
and whether you exist at all.

Can we call you an
'ontological nationalist'?"

"What do you think of the phrase:

'We will sleep together one day,
but not tonight?'"

"We're making a festival of silence -

will you come?"

"Could you confirm that
there's Nothing after death?"

"Is cheap humor the
biggest threat to humanity?"

"Do you have a tattoo?"

[At the height of its popularity, Nothing decides to step down.]

Ho, ho, ho!

So, so, so!

It's hunting season on the albatross -

Time for me to toss my cross.

A big day today,

mathematics are
finally swinging my way.

I have proven to myself
that my opposite is possible

and that the two
are actually compatible.

Everything and Nothing
converge in a vanishing point

which is itself
another starting point.

How's that
for a borderline checkpoint?!

Philosophers,

priests,

scientists,

astronauts,

I challenge you to a duel

down in the footnotes.

You "saved" the world so mary times
it has grown immune,

restoring it right

is costing me a fortune.

If this will make your
lives more bearable,

I can officially proclaim that

quality,

passion,

curiosity,

consciousness,

and chocolate crises

are NOT sustainable,

I will also stop subsidizing

forgetting,

lying,

crying,

betting,

petting,

fleeing,

and any other 'necessary being'.

I further renounce on the
idea of my own contingency

and on the contingency
of reality itself.

If you don't know what
that means,

lucky you,

you're one happy little self.

[Nothing gives a farewell speech.]

Thank you for your hospitality,
ladies and gentlemen,

I have to go now,
though I have no other plan.

I have learned so much
from you over this weekend

that I couldn't
have hoped for more.

Please excuse me now,

I have other worlds to explore.

More than anything,
I will miss

my first piss

and our last kiss.

That's it now.

Nothing phone home.

I'm leaving you as I came,

without a big splash,

taking with me a single thing

- unstained -

and that is...

and that is...

my moustache.

[But Nothing finds no home to go back to,
so it pretends to have a few more things to say.]

Did I just dream that I am you

or did you imagine that you are me?

Was this my or your biography?

I wish I could forget
again what you know

and re-learn what you don't

but the fog of experience
has blurred that battlefront.

A perfect man is inefficient -

A faulty Nothing

is insufficient.

I see now that I don't fit
neither here nor there,

nor for that matter - anywhere.

A baroque minimalist -

a cynical optimist -

a gentle sadist -

an approximate perfectionist -

Pick any contradiction from the list...

If I have tried to run away
from myself,

I have failed.

If I came to pose on your cross,

I never got nailed.

But I have no regrets whatsoever

and no further plan

for I have been both Nothing

and for a while,

a Man.

I tried manhood,

now you try nothingness.

Embrace it daily

like a trendy new fitness.

[The takeaway, if any.]

Actually, there's no real conclusion
to what I had to say.

It's more about what went
through your mind along the way.

I give you back now
the mystery of life.

I'll be fine with the angel's share

and my next wife.

And falling asleep in cinemas,

on books and under trees,

hypnotizing traffic cops

into waiving your fees.

Helping bicycle passengers

keep that smile on their face;

making kids accelerate

the last few steps to your embrace.

Adding echoes and reverbs

to your inner gospel choirs,

Feeling nostalgic of Buenos Aires

even in Buenos Aires.

And provoking life

in detail and in full;

Hiding in your pocket,

like s Swiss-army tool.

Discarding warnings that
principles are irresponsible;

speaking in verse
just to prove that it's possible.

Indulging in art

without trying to be smart.

Rhyming, for example,

"fart"

and "fresh start".

Understanding, finally,

my epitaph and legacy:

STAND ON THE SHOULDERS OF NOTHING

AND EVERYTHING THAT COULD BE

I'm not sure if there's
a Japanese word for this.

There probably must be.

filmed by

filmed in

music by

additional music by

guest musicians
additional sound mix

sound editing
re-recording mixer

color grading

online brainstorming platform
poster art

co-producers
production assistants

assistant director

written, edited,
directed and produced by

narrated by

special thanks

[Nothing gets so carried away
that it doesn’t notice

the majestic monument in its honor
that we never built,

with a caption that we never wrote:]

[TO NOTHING,
THE HUMAN RACE IN GRATITUDE.]

a production by

in association with

with the participation of

commissioning editors

with support from

co-financed by

presented at

technical facilities

music edition

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