All language subtitles for Dragnet S02E18 The Prophet.DVDRip.NonHI.cc.en

This is the city, Los
Angeles, California.

Critics once called
it a cultural desert,

a city of sun baked people
and half baked ideas.

The new civic center is
helping to modify that image.

In Los Angeles,
ideas are big business.

For some, the
stranger the better.

As a rule, new ideas don't
stay new for very long here.

They grow big, but
sooner rather than later,

they all disappear.

Some ideas are
completely illegal.

That's when I go to
work. I carry a badge.

It was Thursday, September 12th.

It was warm in Los Angeles.

We were working the day
watch out of Juvenile Narcotics.

The boss is Captain Jack Morris.

My partner is Bill Gannon.

My name's Friday.

A man calling
himself Brother William

had set up shop in an old house

in an older section
of Hollywood.

He was distributing literature

favoring the legalization
of marijuana and LSD.

We also believed he was
selling narcotics to juveniles.

We had no positive
information to develop.

The captain had asked
us to go out and talk to him.

The story you are
about to see is true.

The names have been
changed to protect the innocent.

Does captain really think
we're gonna do any good

talking to this bird?

He wants us to let him know
we know he's in business.

He's not keeping it a secret.

You may enter.

Welcome, welcome.

Welcome to the Temple
of the Expanded Mind.

You William Bentley?

Not, legally, no.
I'm Brother William.

Police officers.

Oh, yes, I might have known.

You people are the only ones

who still refer to me by
my non-spiritual name.

Well, what brings
you to the temple?

We'd like to talk to you.

Surely not about mind expansion.

- Not here.
- We have information

you're selling acid and
marijuana to juveniles.

Is this an official visit?

How do you mean that?

Are you here to make an arrest?

- No.
- Then what brings you here,

- may I ask?
- We just told you.

We have reason to believe that
you're selling narcotics to juveniles.

Reason to believe?

You people lean rather heavily
on that phrase, don't you?

When it's the truth.

Now, now, now, you're
making a direct accusation.

If it reads that way to you.

- Do you have a warrant?
- No.

Then I wouldn't be throwing
false accusations about

unless I could prove
them, Lieutenant.

- Sergeant.
- Whatever.

Now let me see if I have
this clear in my mind.

You're not here
to make an arrest.

You don't have a warrant.

Then obviously you remain here

only if I desire that you shall.

So if it's polite
conversation that you wish,

I strongly advise
you to be civil.

With you?

Last time we bumped
into each other,

you were hustling old ladies
out of their pension checks.

You've been the route, Bentley,

and that's not an
accusation. It's a fact.

That is all behind me
now. I'm a man of God.

- People do change.
- Is that so?

This temple and my
affidavit say so, yes.

My charter is right
there on the altar.

- The what?
- The altar.

Presuming you can read
anything other than a police file,

I suggest you do so.

"Church of the Universal God."

I am an absolutely legitimate
member of the clergy.

You write your own Bible, too?

In a sense.

And like the Gideons,
I give it away free.

If some wish to offer a small
contribution to the temple,

it is accepted,
but not necessary.

- You wrote this?
- I did.

LSD opens the door to your mind,

permits you to experience
the whole of human expression.

You live out every experience,
no matter how bizarre.

You create your
own brave new world

without ever leaving
the comfort of your mind.

That's truth. Real truth.

For who? The kid
who reads this trash

and ends up in a psycho
ward at a hospital?

Or truth for the
guy making a profit

by turning him on to it?

I'm not here to make a
profit. I'm here to be a prophet.

I want to turn everybody on.

Let them find out for themselves

about the beauty
inside their own minds.

If you've never taken the
trip, you wouldn't know.

You haven't seen it.

Neither did the kid
who pulled his eyes

out of their sockets
to bet a better look,

or the 15-year-old
up in San Jose

who went blind from
staring at the sun.

LSD really opened up
a new world for them.

If it didn't, they're in trouble

because they'll never
see the old one again.

They're better off. Once
you've been out there,

you don't want to
come back anyway.

Ask anyone who has.

Compared to what is
in here, reality is a bore.

You don't really care
what damage you do

with this garbage, do you?

That is a holy book,
the Bible of our temple.

Treat it kindly, or put it down.

How to manufacture LSD.
The cultivation of marijuana.

I don't see anything in
here about methadrine.

I'm devoting an
entire book to that.

And you give this away, do you?

I do, for a small contribution.

What else do you peddle
for a small contribution?

You make it sound
like I'm selling poison.

Would people give
poison to their children?

I know one little 8-year-old

who stayed out on
a trip for three days

with her parents' permission.

Can you imagine that?

Three glorious days,
and that little girl,

I tell you, knows more
about the universe within her

than you will ever know.

Someday, all the
kids will turn on.

But you wouldn't
know, would you?

I mean, you don't
turn on? Do you?

- Not your way.
- Then don't knock it.

I haven't tried driving
a car off a cliff, either.

I've seen other people who did.

I don't have to take a pill

or shove a needle in
my arm to experiment.

I've seen it.

I've seen high school kids
so strung out on methadrine

they didn't know
their own names,

so high on LSD,

they couldn't even remember
how to feed themselves.

It does not bother
me in the least

that a few mental incompetents
never came back from a trip.

That's the price we
pay. It's evolution.

The survival of the fittest.

Those who don't survive the trip

could not have survived in life.

But, those who take
it and come back,

they are the winners.

They are the new generation,
an evolutionary breakthrough.

In 10 or 15 years, the
kids you're arresting now

will be the senators,
governors and presidents.

They'll be running
the universities,

and writing the
laws of the future.

How many kids
have you sold acid to?

Ideas. That's all I sell.

But you take LSD, don't you?

In the book, I've
said so in print,

I admit it. I smoke marijuana.

I take LSD from time to time.

Nothing you can do
about that. Is there?

How many times
have you taken acid?

Several hundred
times, and look at me.

I'm as sane as you
are. Maybe more so.

Why don't you arrest me?
You have my book as proof.

It takes physical
proof. You know that.

And if we had any, you'd have
been in jail a long time ago.

Aha. So there you
have it, my friend.

As I've been saying, I
deal in ideas, nothing more.

I may even sell you a few.

You couldn't sell me
directions to the men's room.

Let me ask you a question.

Do you really believe
that smoking marijuana

automatically transforms an
otherwise normal human being

into a depraved and
raving dope fiend?

We know that too many
kids hooks on heroin

began with marijuana.

On the books.

Possession of marijuana
is classified a felony.

You may be bound by public
policy to enforce the law,

but privately now,
just between us,

don't you think
the law is stupid?

It's still a law.

Possession of
marijuana is a felony.

It is classified as a narcotic
by the federal government.

It changes perception
of time, space, distance.

It warps judgment.

No law that restricts
what I can do to myself,

in the privacy of my own home,

on my own land, is a good law.

Policemen have
no right to tell me

if I may or may not
smoke cigarettes,

drink liquor, or use narcotics.

My body is mine.

What I do with my
body is my business.

You know, this entire new wave,

this new form of declaring
personal freedoms

in this country is disturbing

not because I'm
a police officer,

because I'm a citizen.

I'm a member too.

You people all stand
on the same platform,

the same termite-ridden,
decayed planks.

What about my
freedoms, my rights,

my family's way of living?

You don't concern
yourselves with that. Do you?

You say no law or authority

has the privilege of
depriving you of anything,

so long as it concerns only you.

Isn't that what you insist?

Precisely.

I claim the birthright
to live my life

as I deem fitting and proper.

And what about me?

I don't blow weed.
I don't drop acid.

You do.

And when you do,
you lose judgment.

You have hallucinations.

Hallucinations that can
and do prove dangerous

not only to you, the user,
but to people around you,

people who don't want your
warped and distorted sensibilities

to interfere with
their way of life,

sometimes even to the
point of taking their life.

Now suppose you tell me,

what gives you a privilege
greater than God's?

You go ahead.

You live your life
the way you see fit,

but don't you crowd me.

I demand the self same right.

And so far, the thin line
separating your kind from mine

are the laws of this country.

That's why there's a
stiff one for marijuana

and there should be.

And what about liquor?

It blurs vision, slows reaction,

causes mistakes in judgment.

At one time, there was
a law against that too,

was there not? That
law was changed.

When you pick
up kids for drinking,

you don't automatically
classify them as alcoholics.

But arrest a kid for
smoking for marijuana,

and you throw the book at him.

It's senseless, and you know it.

I'll tell you what I know.

I know that in
fact, too many kids

that begin with pot
end up with heroin,

then onto LSD.

I know that if you drink,
you suffer a loss of judgment,

if you drink to excess.

But I also know that judgment
returns when you sober up.

I know, and so do you,

when you flip
out on an acid trip,

you never know when
you're gonna slip out again.

This is now, Bentley,
not a couple of years ago.

We've had time now to see
and study the effects of LSD.

People who haven't
had a dose in weeks

sail out on another trip.
They never know when.

The minute they
drop one acid capsule

or ingest it in any way,
they've bought the farm.

They've lost any chance to
depend on and even restore

that most precious of all
inner senses, judgment.

And in my way of
thinking, without judgment,

you might as well be dead.

Your brain is, so why
not the rest of you?

We were talking about marijuana.

We still are.
Marijuana is the flame.

Heroin is the fuse.
LSD is the bomb.

So don't you try to equate
liquor with marijuana, Mister.

Not with me.

You may sell that jazz
to another pothead,

but not to somebody who
spends most of their time

holding some sick kid's head
while he vomits and wretches

sitting on a curbstone
at 4:00 in the morning.

And when his knees get
enough starch back in them

so he can stand up
and empty his pockets,

you can bet he'll turn out
a stick or two of marijuana.

And you can double your money

he'll be holding a sugar
cube or a cap or two.

So don't you con me with
your mind expansion slop.

I deal with kids every day.

I try to clean up the mess

that people like you
make out of them.

I'm the expert here. You're not.

Really? When's the last time

you were asked to
appear on television?

How about radio?

Had your picture in
the newspapers lately?

Now you better begin
to understand this.

You put that $400 a month
brain of yours to work, Sergeant.

I am the new way to
go, the way of the future.

I can't begin to fill all of my
personal appearance requests.

I've been asked to make
a phonograph record

setting forth my philosophy.

You want to bet that it sells?

I'm not just news, my
friend. I make news, big news.

So did Judas.

Lovely, isn't it?

One of the temple
maidens painted it.

Temple maidens?

One of the students of the
philosophy of mind expansion.

Looks like she hasn't
completed the course.

I might have expected such
a comment from a lay person.

The next question
most assuredly will be,

- what is its meaning.
- Right?

Does it have one?

It means nothing.
It means everything.

It means whatever
you want it to mean.

See, we in the temple
live in a totally free society

on all levels of
artistic endeavor,

particularly the two
vital ones, art and music.

Mm-hmm. I see it, and I hear it.

You know, at times,
I amaze myself.

How is that, Bentley?

That I permit you
people to linger here.

I've listened with
great patience

to your insulting gibberish
concerning my religion,

my philosophic advancements,
and my hope for the world.

You're not gonna throw
us out though, are you?

Can you give me one
good reason why I shouldn't?

- The best one.
- Yes?

There's a high school
two blocks from here.

Yes.

You know that we know
you've been selling to those kids.

My literature?

If it comes in a number 5 cap.

Now, look, I don't
preach to anyone

they should imbibe acid,

smoke marijuana
or inject heroin.

We have reason
to believe you do.

We think you sell it to them
at kid's prices, 50 cents a pop.

That's preposterous.

We don't think so.

We think you get
them all steamed up

with this stuff that you write,

then you sell them
a sample or two

at the right price,
promising them a look

at that so-called
beautiful world of LSD.

You preach all right.

And I have to admit,
you preach good.

Your kind always does.

Just enough of the intellect,
a sprinkling of phony religion

and kindness and love for all.

Oh, you're good.

I got to hand it
to you, Bentley.

I suppose I should regard
that as a compliment.

But, considering
the source, I won't.

Remember this.

You will never hear me
recommend to anyone

to become involved
with LSD or marijuana.

I say the choice is theirs.

I can only recount
to them the beauty

of the spiritual
transfiguration,

the elegance of having
passed through death unscathed

to touch the very
soul of the universe,

to find themselves.

For surely, in this chaste
world we live in today,

without LSD, no one
can know for certain

just who he or she is.

But, the choice belongs
to them and to them only.

This is a religion.

In this temple,
LSD is a sacrament.

You know, you're
really an enigma to me.

You appear to be a
moderately well-educated man.

I didn't think it showed.

Or rather, I seriously
doubted that you'd recognize it.

Oh, yeah. Policemen have
been known to go to school,

some even to college.

I can assure you I did.
Graduated magma cum laude.

Did some post graduate teaching.

It shows.

And I've come to
another conclusion here,

perhaps the most
pregnant of all.

You're dangerous, Bentley.

Maybe more so than
the narcotics you push.

You use that highly
trained intellect,

not the way those who taught
you intended that you should,

but you utilize it much the same

as a highly sophisticated
weapon, don't you?

You've had the finest
university teachings in the world.

You're a product of some
of the most skilled instructors

we've ever known to be educating

at the same given
period in history.

And having once
been gifted with all that,

how do you put it to use?

For the common detriment of man.

For the ultimate and positive
disintegration of the society

that made that learning
possible for you.

And the pity of it is,
you are believed in,

particularly by the young.

With the power of that
highly refined intelligence,

you can move mountains.

You're the big danger we
have to cope with, Bentley.

I'm delighted to see
that you recognize genius

when you're confronted by it.

Not genius, Bentley,
sickness. Genuine sickness.

How so?

Sickness because I
want to make the world

a more beautiful
place in which to live?

Sickness because I
believe the teenager

is the citizen of tomorrow?

Sickness because I believe

that in order for
the youth of today

to shape the future of
tomorrow, he must start now.

You call that sickness?

I call it vibrant
radiant health.

Like chromosome mutation.

That kind of radiant LSD health?

Oh, come now. You're
getting further out

than you claim I am.

Chromosome
mutation is nothing more

than pure conjecture
and you know it.

Well, from the
experiments conducted,

would you say
it's a possibility?

Perhaps.

And I hold mighty strong
reservations about perhaps.

Research has proven that it's a
little further along than simply perhaps.

But even if it's no
more than a possibility,

what kind of a
suicidal gamble is that?

To run the risk that any drug,

regardless of what so-called
pleasures it may bring,

can also bring a generation
of mutations into the world,

babies with no hands,
without an arm or a leg,

or two holes where
ears should be.

Even if it's only the
slightest chance,

is it worth the risk?

There are those
who check into this life

the self same ways
that you mentioned.

LSD wasn't the cause.

Maybe not. You
willing to compound it?

I won't even dignify
that with an answer.

You're not reasoning.
Now you're dreaming.

And you rule out
brain damage as well.

Pure fantasy.

You don't hamper
the brain with LSD.

You enhance it.

I think you're beyond knowing.

And what may I ask is
intended by that remark?

Well, you know
it's entirely possible

that you've been
on this stuff so long

that you've damaged
the very cells

that could determine for you

whether you have
brain damage or not.

You should really do
yourself a favor, Sergeant.

Yeah?

You should consider
taking the seashore test.

That's a hearing test, you know.

I've heard of it.

Really? I'm not
sure you can hear.

Either that, or
you don't listen.

Or maybe, like the rest
of society, you're guilty.

- Of what?
- Deceit.

I don't deceive
the young people.

I don't lie to them.
I offer them truth.

The youth of today cannot
and will not be satisfied

with a society based on deceit

where the single standard
of an individual's worth

is his material possession.

They look around them and
they see the world they inherited

pays nothing but
lip service to virtue.

They hear greed and cunning
denounced from the pulpit,

yet they see society
praise the men

who are the most greedy
and the most cunning.

They discover soon enough
that charity and humility

characterize the
failures in our society,

that aggression and avarice
are the mark of successful men.

Small wonder young people
prefer their own company,

prefer to revert to tribalism

than become part of a society

that has reduced love
to an advertising slogan.

Well, I've shown them the way,

a new approach to life, an
approach they can live with.

And die with.

They're not gonna find
what they're looking for

by dropping acid.

We let them be the
judge of that, my friend.

Then you figure that
every kid in the country

is gonna climb on your
bandwagon. Do you?

I do, in time. They all will.

You're wrong.

The kids you're talking about

are a little more
than a noisy minority.

The majority are more
concerned about their lives

than to throw them away.

You forget about the
kids in the Peace Corps,

the kids from good homes
who volunteer to work the slums,

the kids who go to
school and go to work.

Sure, they're dissatisfied.

You ever meet a
17-year-old who wasn't?

When you're 17, you're
full of enthusiasm and ideas,

and you're boiling
over with energy.

You want to change
things, so you look around.

You see a lot of things
that need changing.

People kill each other,
and they shouldn't.

People are hungry,
and they shouldn't be.

People are cold,
and they're illiterate.

They need shelter.
They need books.

And when you're 17, you're
seeing it all for the first time.

All at once, the world is
bigger than home and mother.

You find out that there
are more important things

than high school football games,

and because you're
17, you wonder why?

Why nothing's
been done about it?

Seems so simple to stop
wars, to feed the hungry,

to teach people how to read.

And the only answer they
get from our generation

is we tried and we failed.

And when you're 17,

failure is something that
happens to somebody else.

And so you try.

And maybe with a lot
of sweat the help of God,

you make a little progress.

People still kill each other.

But they're learning.

A few less die from starvation.

A few more learn the trick

of transforming
printed words into ideas,

and then, you're not 17 anymore.

Somewhere along
the line, you grew older.

You got married,
and you had children,

and one day, you have a son

who makes the same
discovery you did.

The world needs changing.

Well, it does need changing,

but it'll never get that way

by people who'd rather
drop out than stay in.

That's precisely the response
I expect from a policeman.

Preach conformity.
Wave the flag.

But history isn't
made by conformists.

To make progress, you've
got to break out of the mold.

You have to dare to experiment.

New ideas never go down easy.

The establishment's
used to that.

It doesn't matter that
history proves them wrong.

We like to forget that Socrates

was forced to drink hemlock,

that Galileo was excommunicated,

that even Christ
was put to death

for preaching a new idea.

Some ideas are worth dying for.

You talk about young
people in America.

I don't recognize them.
I don't think they exist.

I think your kind creates them.

You force them into little molds

and pop them out
like little plastic figures

off a production line.

You stuff them full of
preconceived ideas,

praise them for
turning out so well,

but they're not people.
They're machines.

Then you wind them up
like little tape recorders

and send them out into the world

to spread another
generation of lies.

This is the best of
all possible words.

This is a recording.

And the ones who escape
from your assembly line,

the rare ones, you
call them delinquents,

weirdoes, hippies, pill
heads, freaks, pot heads.

You tell them they're sick.

They know better.

They're not satisfied
with a little change.

They want it all.
They want it now,

and they know they
can't change the world

so they change themselves.

They seek others
who believe as they do.

They start communities, tribes.

They grow. They
share food, shelter,

and most importantly, love.

All they ask is
the right to live

the way they want to live,
without being harassed,

without being told what
they can or cannot do.

Now, is that too much
to ask, Mister Policeman?

No. If that's all they ask.

But it's not.

They're not asking
to be left alone.

They're asking for a handout.

If they really believe
what you say they believe,

they'd do something about it
besides panhandle in the streets

and use narcotics
to escape reality.

A lot of people have
started with an idea

and they've made it work,

but not by begging or stealing

or standing in line to
get paid for not working.

The Amish did it
in Pennsylvania.

They built self-supporting
communities.

The Mormons did it in
Utah. They built a city.

The Jews did it in
Israel. They built a nation.

But they were
willing to work for it.

We tried in San Francisco.

- Yeah.
- Well, you learned something.

- Didn't you?
- What's that?

If you're gonna live
with the rest of us,

then you'll have to learn to
play the game by the rules.

And in case you've forgotten
the name of the game,

we call it democracy.

I don't think we'll
have to build new cities.

I think we'll take over yours.

I think there will a day
when you'll be in the minority.

I wonder how you'll
like democracy then.

And it won't be long in coming,

10 years, maybe
15 at the outside.

When the kids start
going to the ballot box,

you better hope you're
ready to draw your pension

because all your hysterical
laws will be repealed.

Anyone who has the
courage and the curiosity

will be able to buy
LSD over the counter.

You really believe
that. Don't you?

I still insist, it's strictly
a personal choice.

The same with marijuana.

There's no shortcut to
getting through life, fella.

It's not easy. I guess
it wasn't meant to be

and sometimes it can
be an unhappy affair.

But nobody's ever succeeded yet

in putting happiness
in a bottle or a pill,

despite the claims on the label.

That law is there for
a very good reason.

It keeps the record straight.

Marijuana is a narcotic,
medically and legally.

It never did anybody any good

and does everybody
a lot of harm.

And we're right back
where we began.

You haven't made a point.

You claim marijuana
leads to hard narcotics

and ultimate
addiction. I disagree.

Because most people are normal

and only a psychologically
defective personality

is prone to true addiction.

- You're half right, Bentley.
- Half right?

It takes more than psychologically
defective personalities

to become addicts.

Really? What's that?

Something to become addicted to.

- Pity.
- What's that?

- I said it's a pity.
- What is?

That you do not
comprehend the glory

of becoming close to God.

Yeah. Well, you
don't get there on LSD.

You'll never know
the wonder of it all,

of being close to Him.

Oh, I don't know, Bentley.

I can tell you a better way,
and it's worked for centuries.

And what's that?

You begin by kneeling.

What do you think, Joe?

We won't lose his address.

The suspect was found guilty
of violating section 11502,

Health and Safety
Codes, State of California,

in that he knowingly
furnished a narcotic to a minor.

The penalty for unlawfully
selling, furnishing,

administering or giving
a narcotic to a minor

is imprisonment
in the state prison

from 10 years to life.