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delphipsmith"The Obsolete Man," starring the small but indomitable Burgess Meredith (try not to think of him as The Penguin).
"I am a librarian! That is my occupation! That is my profession! If you people choose to call that obsolete--"
"Since there are no more books, Mr.Wordsworth, there are no more libraries, and of course, as it follows, there is very little call for the services of a librarian."
"[Y]ou cannot destroy truth by burning pages!"
"You have no function. You are an anachronism...You're a librarian, Mr.Wordsworth. You're a dealer in books and two-cent fines and pamphlets in closed stacks in the musty mines of a language factory that spews meaningless words on an assembly line. WORDS, Mr.WORDSworth. That have no substance, no dimension, like air, like the wind. Like a vacuum, that you make believe have an existence, by scribbling index numbers on little cards...You inject into your veins with printer's ink the narcotics you call literature: The Bible, poetry, essays, all kinds, all of it are opiates to make you think you have a strength, when you have no strength at all! You are nothing, but spindly limbs and a dream."
"I don't care. I tell you: I don't care. I'm a human being, I exist....and if I speak one thought aloud, that thought lives, even after I'm shoveled into my grave."
And then the old man proceeds to show him just what librarians are made of. No wonder this one ranks #8 on the list of Top 25 Twilight Zone episodes. Yay for my chosen profession :)
"I am a librarian! That is my occupation! That is my profession! If you people choose to call that obsolete--"
"Since there are no more books, Mr.Wordsworth, there are no more libraries, and of course, as it follows, there is very little call for the services of a librarian."
"[Y]ou cannot destroy truth by burning pages!"
"You have no function. You are an anachronism...You're a librarian, Mr.Wordsworth. You're a dealer in books and two-cent fines and pamphlets in closed stacks in the musty mines of a language factory that spews meaningless words on an assembly line. WORDS, Mr.WORDSworth. That have no substance, no dimension, like air, like the wind. Like a vacuum, that you make believe have an existence, by scribbling index numbers on little cards...You inject into your veins with printer's ink the narcotics you call literature: The Bible, poetry, essays, all kinds, all of it are opiates to make you think you have a strength, when you have no strength at all! You are nothing, but spindly limbs and a dream."
"I don't care. I tell you: I don't care. I'm a human being, I exist....and if I speak one thought aloud, that thought lives, even after I'm shoveled into my grave."
And then the old man proceeds to show him just what librarians are made of. No wonder this one ranks #8 on the list of Top 25 Twilight Zone episodes. Yay for my chosen profession :)
