Original subtitles

George, who's in, George?

Then you really don't want to.

No.

I prefer to get around on my own.

If you want to, shall I come back

later on?

Perhaps, perhaps, I don't know.

Well, if you like, okay.

Alright, see you later.

Bye, Barbara.

Bye, Paula.

Oh, oh, oh, I don't know, but then,

who knows?

What about peace?

What about love?

And what about hate?

And what about Mao?

And what about Karl Marx?

And what about Alan Seacrest?

And what about Ho Chi Minh?

And what about Nick Saxton?

And what about Che Guevara?

And what about Black Power?

And what about John Smith?

And what about Martin Luther King?

And what about drugs?

And what about sex?

And what about movies?

And what about asking questions?

So many, so many questions.

In a world of conflict Left and right

To you we only bring The better side

The better side It

used to speak From a heart that was

aflame It was tried Its objection overruled Now

we shout To love and not to change

It's our road But to you it may

seem strange The better side The better side

Look at them The other

side Stop and see Do

you wish to criticize It's where

the beauty lies The soul

cries The better side The better side Much

talk this morning, latest killing Naked woman found

slaughtered, tied obscene position You can't even imagine

what goes on between the sexes Wasted half

an hour imagining about it Dramatic scene Underground

filmmaker shot by new policeman It's warm in

here Swine

Him and me then You know

Yes A great society Bombs Bullets Bullshit Do

you want more out of your sex life?

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anatomy Complete with long life battery Ready for

use at a moment's notice This

fantasy of dreamlike frenzy Rushing through your head

Erotic scenes Conflict between Chastity you read Subconsciously

is your desire Although you won't believe it

But the truth is plain to see Why

try to hide it?

The truth is hard to hide Why try

to disguise it?

The truth is plain to see Just

as much as you believe Storming

through the channels of this myth But the

truth is plain to see But the truth

is plain to see But

how then?

Who's in charge?

Give her a rinse, will you?

Could you take care of this old cow

for me, dear?

Yes, sure What's wrong?

What do

you feel?

Cold Where?

Here Here?

Yes, here, here, here If I could

turn you on If I could drive you

out of your wretched mind If I could

tell you I would let you know I

would let you know Sure that if, in

spite of, by chance, when One is alone,

shut up at home In case, only if,

who knows But who could?

Lock the door, wash the dishes, feed the

cat Why did she buy that thing when

it needed a new hat?

Oh, forget it now, put it out Just

like the sun, don't let it come Yes,

I'd understood That hand in hand we again

become As one, two people signed To their

relation To their relation Just one more relation

Is this a fate?

A thing face

to face The relation is so real Second

thoughts pass through our mind And it's the

ideal Then the moon slips down behind the

cloud To run and burn the light she

saw He'd

just light the moon And throw his world

into the dark Every day from noon to

noon It's there, it's just an endless temptation

It must not come Just

one more relation Just one more relation One

more relation Paolo?

Yes?

Listen What?

I've got something to tell you What?

What?

What do you want?

Who?

You Me?

Yes Put a tiger in your

tank Second TV newscast Married woman alone at

home Woken at dawn by masked man near

bed Gagged, blindfolded Wrapped in sheet Tightly bound

Pushed into a sack with sexual parts exposed

Tortured Moans, whispers Must have enjoyed herself after

all Room handle thrust in Purred on a

spit Dreamt of two policemen Thrown

in cell Sniggering Stripped naked Forced to submit

Both of them in turn Beautiful Hot Plummeting

But one of just like that Oh Nine

Eight Seven Six Five Four

Three Two One Zero My

problem is that every so often while doing

chin-ups I have an orgasm This prevents

me from finishing my workouts But after relaxing

in the hot room I seem to feel

better than ever Nevertheless, there are physical and

moral implications which I'd like to have cleared

up One, is this physically harmful?

Two, since I usually know it's going to

happen and continue the chin-ups anyway would

the Catholic Church consider this masturbation and therefore

a sin?

The medium is the massage That is the

message Who knows why people who are afraid

of pubic hairs are the same people who

hate negroes, jews, homosexuals, beatniks and hissies A

sound mind In a sound body So

the proverb says It's for

everyone And so it should be read And

she Who believes In simple

words The rest of time Releases

All into the mist And her mind and

body grow A child

Would reach out

And lose control

To see you grow Tell

me Have you got a pussy?

An innocent child That sex is a sin

Whoever indulges in it Whoever deals in it

Will not rise to heaven But will be

condemned to hell Love

tunnel Come on All you need is love

Love tunnel Come on All you need is

love Love tunnel Come on All you need

is love Love tunnel Come on All you

need is love Love tunnel Come on All

you need is love Love tunnel Come on

All you need is love What is a

love commune?

The love commune Is an anarchistic organization Without

any authority of anger Have

a laugh Have a joke Run around In

our smoke We are free Our company You

try to lead We say no We don't

get overwrought What's the point?

Life's too short You can keep all your

laws But for us We say no Parking

meters How they treat us Try to change

the life We lead in every way Put

a gun in your hand, son Is this

what you're trying to say?

Kill yourselves Fight away In your books

What is love?

We don't need That kind of addiction It's

our addiction We say no You return Battle

worn In your torn Uniform It's opposed We

say no We

don't mind, but when it tries to push

us out, we have to shout, and we

say no, and we say no.

To encourage people to make love is forbidden

because it's dangerous.

But it's not forbidden, even though more dangerous,

to encourage them to make war.

So from this moment, the dangerous and forbidden

pictures of love scenes will be substituted by

pictures dangerous but not forbidden of war scenes.

Pornography of violence.

Take of our outstanding lives in Bolivia.

Numerous incidents of sexually orientated torture were reported

in the case of women.

The torturers shove as many fingers as possible,

or an object, into the vagina and twist

and tear brutally.

This is also done with the anus.

A tube is inserted into the anus and

water driven into the prisoner under very high

pressure.

In the case of men, beatings on the

genitals with long, thin sandbags have frequently been

reported.

One trade unionist was beaten so much that

a testicle was driven up into his body.

In observation, you can see the difference.

Colored people in the sky, others passing by.

Look down.

Which of the two do you admire?

Look at the sky.

It's like a fire.

You take this.

You won't miss.

Running round in circles trying to find your

mind.

Something trying to push you on.

And it's coming from the past.

Hope to be among the people.

People in the clouds.

In your life there's been a hole.

Have you found your goal?

At last.

Into a wall you've been hurled.

Can you guess

who will?

The 1968

Saigon show proved the medium wasn't a message.

Crazy.

Your body is weak.

You wish you could sleep.

The troubles get worse.

You sit on your bed.

Your face in your hand.

You start to decline.

When did you lose peace?

Into the fray.

The things that deceive.

It's a

purely physical act.

Let's look at it through the microscope.

It is an insignificant act.

Wholly devoid of morality.

So don't sit around.

Get off the ground.

Just step inside.

Tension inside.

We'll start to unwind.

Something like a dream.

...are preparing to defend the capital against the

rumoured Vietnam Spring offensive expected to come with

the warmer weather.

General Callaghan has requested extra troops to combat

the National Liberation Front of the mines.

After a quiet winter of preparation, the Viet

Saloon are to be seen more and more

frequently in the streets and parts of London.

It is believed that they have had an

amazingly successful recruiting drive over the last few

months and have increased their forces by hundreds

of thousands.

The Viet Saloon are believed to have developed

the second weapons capable of blowing the greatest

mine.

Search and destroy.

Despite continued search and destroy sorties carried out

by great forces, they have failed to force

the Viet Saloon's underground.

They have no known leader except the legendary

Saga, a beautiful nude goddess who is rumoured

to live in an enchanted forest in the

vicinity of Amphanpset Inn.

Unidentified flying objects have been seen in the

area recently which could wade to the rumour.

Dreamt of knives, pencils, umbrellas.

Dreamt I was about to cross a street.

Car coming down on me on purpose.

Saw me.

Could have missed me.

Instead, no.

Dreamt of squeezed oranges, mincemeat, crumpled cars, wholesale

goods, drained, bone dry.

Dreamt.

Was frightened.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Hey, lady.

Please.

Your pictures.

You forgot your pictures.

Here.

Take a look.

Take a look.

Please.

Get him.

There.

Stop him.

Swine.

Give it to him.

Come on, go.

Quick.

Scram.

Filthy nigger.

Get him.

There.

Grab him.

Grab him, swine.

Come on.

Give it to him.

Scram.

Stop him.

Grab him.

Just a whisper of a panty with no

crotch at all.

Even the jet set was shocked at this

one.

Order in black or in shocking red.

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Help.

Help.

Come back here, baby cow.

Little slut.

Coward.

Swine.

Coward.

Dialectical masturbation.

Alienation as our present destiny is achieved only

by autodiduct violence perpetrated by human beings on

human beings.

The question of violence must be raised.

If you collect people together who, as all

of us, are victims of a psychological frustration

that is part of the system we live

in, the only way to exorcise this frustration

is violence.

And then they say Negroes are savages.

What savages?

Savage, that white coward murderer.

She was probably one of them and he

was her pimp.

Well, who knows why?

Who knows why I always hate blood?

If one could do what one likes without

limits, taboos, fear, things like that.

Here, always the same.

Here, look, a hangman.

Here lived Karl Marx, who was...

But who knows?

And that outraged, raped, murdered.

Another sexual fact.

Everything like this.

All sex exhibited, exploited.

All forbidden.

Has to be all forbidden.

Everything forbidden.

Otherwise, goodbye to speculation.

Goodbye business.

The whole thing, industry.

Even sex, like any other.

Even more important than another.

Than all the others.

The others have to rely on sex too

to sell their goods.

All advertising based on sex.

With sex you sell everything.

All sex.

Only sex.

Misery.

Sadness.

Only about sex and about nothing else.

So they're good and they do what they

have to.

All very proper.

Their proper job.

Just like Paolo.

Always efficient, symmetrical, on the ball.

There he is.

Yes.

I think.

Yes, of course it's him.

So, for the passive part, in an anal

intercourse, I enjoyed that sexual experience very much.

Shit.

When I

left a fellow in the house opposite across

the way, watching, peeping, while I undressed, I

knew he was poised behind his window.

I'd seen him sometimes.

Maybe he even took some photos of me.

But I enjoyed myself tantalizing him.

And it excited me.

Like the nights when I left the light

on and Paolo wanted to close the curtains.

No, I said, it's no use.

It's hot.

No one's around.

Well, all the time I knew that fellow

must have been by the window of the

opposite house.

But Paolo didn't want it.

He wanted silence, darkness, mystery.

He always wants silence, darkness, mystery.

But what mystery?

That's the whole trick.

They invent mystery where there isn't any.

This is their great discovery.

Keep everything hidden, everyone in the dark, so

the mystery breathes mystery and fear.

But instead, no.

Bloody hell, air, lights on, open window.

No mystery, no fear.

Once in a week, it's really a little

thing, only on Saturday night.

But Paolo is always so efficient, symmetrical, diligent,

only on Saturday night.

And meanwhile, I was getting undressed very slowly

and even excited.

And Paolo was excited.

When feminine hygiene is a matter of concern,

Cupid's quiver connects.

Raspberry douche.

Safe, gentle, refreshing douche of exceptional fragrance.

A unique experience in a four-ounce unbreakable

flask.

Start with raspberry, then come back for pineapple,

lemon-lime, cherry, peach-rum, and tutti-frutti.

And so we started making it on the

bed.

And Paolo did it, and I did it.

Without fear, without mystery, et cetera, et cetera.

And when we had almost got to the

best bit, then tick, I switched off the

light and took.

But what is he doing?

Stupid.

What an approach.

Oh, well, one approach is as good as

another.

Like dancing.

Come on, move.

Let's go.

One, two, three.

Stupid.

But if, for example, I walked without a

skirt, why not?

Let's see, first of all, quiet.

And then one, don't look back.

Two, go on walking.

Three, don't wiggle.

Four, it's time for decision.

Five, even Paolo tells me.

Six, well, what's wrong with that?

Seven, I made like that.

Eight, I can walk only like that.

Nine, there's nothing.

10, to be ashamed of, I'm sure.

11, that my bottom.

12, is nothing at all.

13, to hide.

14, but surely, of course, 15, that also

in front.

16, I'd like to be seen.

17, naked.

18, to see 19, look in his face.

20, everybody says.

21, that I've got beautiful breasts.

22, when I jump.

Then 23, either I run.

24, I dance.

25, they also dance beautifully.

26, it's not a lie.

27, and then 28, who are they?

29, don't know.

30 and one, 31, really, I don't know.

Nothing to do.

He still doesn't understand.

My fault, I've dragged on for too long.

Now stop.

Yes, but if then there are consequences, complications,

think of Paolo's face if I give him

a little negro.

By the way, what's the date today?

The seventh.

Last month I got it on the 17th.

This time, just wait, it'll come on the

13th.

Sunday's the 8th, Monday the 9th, Tuesday 10th,

Wednesday 11th, Thursday 12th, Friday 13th.

We'll already be back in room.

Why then, considering I'm here, don't I take

advantage of it?

Why not the pill or something else?

Yes, so I won't have all this worry

about pregnancy.

No doubt at all.

Freedom to have children when you want to,

only if you want to.

For a woman, real freedom, just this.

Only then you can do it when you

want to, as you want to, where you

want to, with whoever you want to.

Oh yes, I'll go in.

In some way I'll make them understand.

Now I'm ashamed, ashamed, ashamed.

If I knew I had to be fitted,

I wouldn't have come in.

Run away.

What a fool I made of myself.

Anyway, I'm here, I'll stay.

And then what's up?

He's a doctor, just a doctor, so stop.

I'm ridiculous, stupid, ridiculous.

Think of other things.

Be indifferent, look nonchalant, emancipated, used to such

things.

Yes, as though he wouldn't understand that it

makes me laugh.

I'm nervous, hysterical, an idiot.

Of course it's a very useful thing.

Nothing to say, simple, plain, quick.

You just go in and ask.

No appointment.

What appointment?

If you make an appointment and at the

last minute you think it over and you

don't do anything.

So instead, come on, let's go.

In and out, without thinking about it.

And now what's he doing?

He's putting on contraceptive fingers.

Why?

Don't know.

Perhaps not to leave fingerprints.

What a fool I am.

Like a murderer.

Well, of course.

Really, I say.

I think he's got a murderous face.

If you really were a sexual maniac, yes.

Yes, like that one scene in the park.

Outraged, raped, murdered Italian woman found strangled Hyde

Park.

Fine title, like the one read yesterday.

Hotel waitress found strangled, tortured.

Looked like she'd been kept prisoner for weeks.

Outraged every day a bit.

Her pussy full of dead cigarette butts spouted

out inside.

Even the other one who was following me

looked like a murderer.

Grabbed, caressed, slammed, strangled, cut up.

After all, what's a cut?

What is it?

Just a cut.

And now what's he doing?

He excites me.

I get excited.

Oh God, I cry.

Oh God.

I know the wound must be dilated like

when I am excited.

Otherwise it's no use.

I know the size doesn't correspond.

Oh God, Paolo, Paolo.

Yes, if I think of Paolo.

Paolo, Paolo.

But with Paolo I don't always get excited.

Only a bit.

Sometimes not even a bit.

Perhaps because he's always so symmetrical, proper, regular.

He doesn't care at all about me.

Certainly anyway I'd like to try the Negro's

one.

With the Negro, yes.

With him waiting for me outside.

Inside.

Yes, inside.

Yes.

Paolo, no.

Paolo, yes.

Paolo, no.

Paolo, yes.

Paolo, yes.

Yes, yes.

Forbidden.

OK, number 65.

Still here.

OK, he understood.

I understood.

Just an attraction.

Yes, an attraction.

Stronger, different.

To try, see, dare do what is always

believed to be forbidden.

No.

Don't move yet.

Wait.

Well, now you can go.

Now you're free.

Now you are ready.

Go.

Go now.

Go.

Go.

Go.

Go.

Go.

Go.

Go.

Go.

Go.

Go.

Go.

Go.

Go.

Go.

Go.

Go.

Go.

each night.

In other words, the nightly ration is 4

,062,867,000 inches, and that's an awful

lot of pita.

The pointed issue is, am I getting my

share?