Orson Welles Gets Metaphysical Wearing a Hat
May 3, 2011 § Leave a comment
This is what happens when Hollywood tries to break a man down. He rises from the figurative ashes in all-black, shrouded by his cape, and stands by a church to philosophize about beauty and posterity.
Somewhere Billy Faulkner is watching this scene, blubbering in his whiskey.
“Because you make so little impression, you see. You get born and you try this and you don’t know why only you keep on trying it and you are born at the same time with a lot of other people, all mixed up with them, like trying to, having to, move your arms and legs with strings only the same strings are hitched to all the other arms and legs and the others all trying and they don’t know why either except that the strings are all in one another’s way like five or six people all trying to make a rug on the same loom only each one wants to weave his on pattern into the rug; and it can’t matter, you know that, or the Ones that set up the loom would have arranged things a little better, and yet it must matter because you keep on trying or having to keep on trying and then all of a sudden it’s over and all you have left is a block of stone with scratches on it provided there was someone to remember to have the marble scratched and set up or had time to…And so maybe if you could go to someone, the stranger the better, and give them something–a scrap of paper–something, anything…it would be at least a scratch, something, something that might make a mark on something that was once for the reason that it can die someday.”