Read My Lips

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Synopsis
French thriller about a deaf office worker who employs an ex-con and uses him
to take revenge on her bullying colleagues.
When the shy secretary takes on the petty criminal in a lowly position, she finds
herself becoming increasingly attracted to him, and after using him to execute a
little theft, she finds that he wants the favour returned.

Credits
Carla
Emmanuelle Devos
Paul
Vincent Cassel
Marchand
Olivier Gourmet
Annie
Olivia Bonamy
Masson
Olivier Perrier
Director
Jacques Audiard

Broadcast
1. Mon 6 Apr 2009
23:40
BBC Four

....There was a repeat of a drama recently about two men who take out their
anger over their failed relationships on a...blind woman. I was watching
something else but I did write about it before. I've still to copy some of Vision,
but it's all a part of a wider picture isn't it. Anyway, I already copied this, if I
can find it.
Interestingly, these two sections were written as is, one right after the other,
though I could easily copy the first section on L and attach it to a previous
section on The Prisoner/Girl Who Was Death.
...And I’m 19. I was going to add that yesterday; as a joke of course. The same
age L was when her boyfriend was stabbed to death by another girl. But she
saw it as her fault. That she was somehow a catalyst or instigator in the
situation. And seeing oneself as the cause of someone's death is worse than
feeling you’ve hurt someone emotionally. No wonder she was incapable of love
or had no faith in the supposed love of others. She was correct of course. Most
of us have no inkling of what it means to love another as ourselves, as like her
we haven’t learned to do that. She was/is us in extremis. And the end result was
murder. But it’s all murder.
Believing she could dump her guilt on me was just another form of the belief in
murder. The ego’s thought-system of kill or be killed. And if you can’t protect
yourself from someone's murder attempts, how could she possibly feel secure
with you? And all the while they’ll try to kill you in order to make themselves
feel stronger. But “you learn what you teach,” and all they do is teach
themselves security lies in attack and death. But as the ego has told us to
identify with the body as the body is of the ego, then clearly there’s no point in
looking to it for protection. The circularity of the ego as always. It’s no wonder
she was in a state of almost constant panic.
A favourite refrain was her fear of her own anger. That she felt that if she felt it
fully she would lose control. I’ve 'lost' my temper a number of the times over
the years and I’m sure it was as unsettling a sight as it was an experience for
me. But neither did I die and neither did I try and kill anybody.
Again, I 'understand' her psychology. How could her boyfriend be in a position
to forgive her when he’s dead? aside from the fact most people are inclined to
condemn for a whole lot less, including of course, herself, and as forgiveness
for what really happened is impossible she applies the same criteria to herself,
and the judgement is, if not death, then she at least believed it subconsciously.
An intolerable situation, therefore she would have to protect herself according
to her own dictates, through justification and rationalisation of the anger and
hatred she felt towards herself – and the deeper ontological terror at the thought
of having condemned herself in the eyes of God, never mind the world if it
knew or agreed with her. But as “an idea never leaves its source,” that’s how to
keep it and it stays in the mind where it always was as that’s where it
originated.
“Without you children, he’s nothing! The evil remains within him.” Captain
Kirk. Star Trek. I can remember those kids, and the lead little blonde girl who
features, from… over thirty years ago, back in the early ‘70’s, when I was in my
early teens. So she won’t be much younger than me now, yet that’s all the
memory I have of her, so it gives her a kind of immortality. As frozen in time
as if I’d seen her yesterday. I wonder if that was the episode that influenced
that later dream of malevolent children when I was involved with L in the early
days? But that was after I kissed her lightly on the lips by the door just before
she left. In the dream the children were like these malevolent little zombies
with dead lips. I had come to associate her with death, perhaps through reading
parts of Erich Fromm’s The Anatomy of Human Destructiveness, but also
because of her lurid little anecdote of having spent time in graveyard with her
friends, such as they were, as well as her ill-fated boyfriend.
“I’ve never slept in a graveyard, but I’ve fucked in a graveyard.” Billy
Connelly. I assume they did too. Some of them. Maybe not. She said there
were bodies lying around still to be buried. Maybe they dug them up for all I
know. Big laughs. Not a very happy or healthy-minded little bunny then.
Dominated by her father, introverted and withdrawn at school. There were
passing similarities in our backgrounds. But I was mainly all for life, not death.
I tended to see my mother and her bo as encompassing most of what I thought
of as unhealthy and what I disliked intensely; their emotional instability and
unreliability, the constant negativity and the endless chain smoking, more so on
her part and the predilection for booze on his.
They never read or watched anything of real substance, aside from a good film
that might come their way, as much by chance as intentionally on either of their
parts. But they also tried. It must have been difficult living with the monster
that was inside of them, while having no real comprehension of it or its
intentions.
And L grew up with her own monster, with as little real comprehension of it for
all her intelligence; and eight or nine years older than her I felt, in some
respects, little further forward, though a whole lot better from when I was 22
myself, though that was the year I wrote the letter to my mother and had the
experience of the Holy Spirit, though I was more inclined to see it in terms of
the kundalini as that was how it manifested itself shortly before, scaring the hell
out of me in the process.
The main experience was of a rushing wind or waves as described by Stan
Gooch. I read it years later in his book, The Supernatural. He was 26 at the
time. He lost consciousness and was told an intelligence had communicated
through him. This was his first experience of communication with the dead. I
see this as almost irrelevant in the light of a non-dualistic interpretation of the
experience, as I think that's the point of it and the source it stems from, so while
messages from 'the dead' or the 'other side' might be useful to some, for me it’s
neither here nor there. Not that I was aware of that then.
It’s a non-dualistic interpretation of forgiveness that is the only answer for
confused narcissists such as L, but also an answer for the rest of us, as we all
worship death unconsciously, as well as live in the same unconscious terror
over the thought of God’s wrath for having separated from Him, and worse,
murdered Him into the bargain. If we didn’t believe that we wouldn’t be here,
as there would be no need to be. Though again, it’s only a belief; we’re not
really here, we only think we are. “This world was over long ago,” ACIM. Is
there any other thought more incredible, more uplifting? That whatever seems
to happen in this world, in reality we are all safely in the arms of God. In her
Saviour’s Arms. DCD.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Orx6ou1OUKs&feature=related
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http://acim-search.miraclevision.com/std-second-edition-and-supps/index.html

IV. The Function of Time

V.
And now the reason why you are afraid of this course should be
apparent. For this is a course on love, because it is about you. You have
been told that your function in this world is healing, and your function in
Heaven is creating. The ego teaches that your function on earth is
destruction, and you have no function at all in Heaven. It would thus
destroy you here and bury you here, leaving you no inheritance except
the dust out of which it thinks you were made. As long as it is reasonably
satisfied with you, as its reasoning goes, it offers you oblivion. When it
becomes overtly savage, it offers you hell.
Yet neither oblivion nor hell is as unacceptable to you as Heaven. Your
definition of Heaven is hell and oblivion, and the real Heaven is the
greatest threat you think you could experience. For hell and oblivion are
ideas that you made up, and you are bent on demonstrating their reality
to establish yours. If their reality is questioned, you believe that yours is.
For you believe that attack is your reality, and that your destruction is the
final proof that you were right.
Under the circumstances, would it not be more desirable to have been
wrong, even apart from the fact that you were wrong? While it could
perhaps be argued that death suggests there was life, no one would
claim that it proves there is life. Even the past life that death might
indicate, could only have been futile if it must come to this, and needs
this to prove that it was at all. You question Heaven, but you do not
question this. Yet. you could heal and be healed if you did question it.
And even though you know not Heaven, might it not be more desirable
than death? You have been as selective in your questioning as in your
perception. An open mind is more honest than this.
The ego has a strange notion of time, and it is with this notion that your
questioning might well begin. The ego invests heavily in the past, and in
the end believes that the past is the only aspect of time that is
meaningful. Remember that its emphasis on guilt enables it to ensure its
continuity by making the future like the past, and thus avoiding the
present. By the notion of paying for the past in the future, the past
becomes the determiner of the future, making them continuous without
an intervening present. For the ego regards the present only as a brief
transition to the future, in which it brings the past to the future by
interpreting the present in past terms.
'Now' has no meaning to the ego. The present merely reminds it of past
hurts, and it reacts to the present as if it were the past. The ego cannot
tolerate release from the past, and although the past is over, the ego
tries to preserve its image by responding as if it were present. It dictates
your reactions to those you meet in the present from a past reference
point, obscuring their present reality. In effect, if you follow the ego's
dictates you will react to your brother as though he were someone else,
and this will surely prevent you from recognising him as he is. And you
will receive messages from him out of your own past because, by
making it real in the present, you are forbidding yourself to let it go. You
thus deny yourself the message of release that every brother offers you
now.
The shadowy figures from the past are precisely what you must escape.
They are not real, and have no hold over you unless you bring them with
you. They carry the spots of pain in your mind, directing you to attack in
the present in retaliation for a past that is no more. And this decision is
one of future pain. Unless you learn that past pain is an illusion, you are
choosing a future of illusions and losing the many opportunities you
could find for release in the present. The ego would preserve your
nightmares, and prevent you from awakening and understanding they
are past. Would you recognise a holy encounter if you are merely
perceiving it as a meeting with your own past? For you would be
meeting no one, and the sharing of salvation, which makes the
encounter holy, would be excluded from your sight. The Holy Spirit
teaches that you always meet yourself, and the encounter is holy
because you are. The ego teaches that you always encounter your past,
and because your dreams were not holy, the future cannot be, and the
present is without meaning.
It is evident that the Holy Spirit's perception of time is the exact opposite
of the ego's. The reason is equally clear, for they perceive the goal of
time as diametrically opposed. The Holy Spirit interprets time's purpose
as rendering the need for time unnecessary. He regards the function of
time as temporary, serving only His teaching function, which is
temporary by definition. His emphasis is therefore on the only aspect of
time that can extend to the infinite, for now is the closest approximation
of eternity that this world offers. It is in the reality of 'now', without past or
future, that the beginning of the appreciation of eternity lies. For only
'now' is here, and only 'now' presents the opportunities for the holy
encounters in which salvation can be found.
The ego, on the other hand, regards the function of time as one of
extending itself in place of eternity, for like the Holy Spirit, the ego
interprets the goal of time as its own. The continuity of past and future,
under its direction, is the only purpose the ego perceives in time, and it
closes over the present so that no gap in its own continuity can occur, Its
continuity, then, would keep you in time, while the Holy Spirit would
release you from it. It is His interpretation of the means of salvation that
you must learn to accept, if you would share His goal of salvation for
you.
You, too, will interpret the function of time as you interpret yours. If you
accept your function in the world of time as one of healing, you will
emphasise only the aspect of time in which healing can occur. Healing
cannot be accomplished in the past. It must be accomplished in the
present to release the future. This interpretation ties the future to the
present, and extends the present rather than the past. But if you
interpret your function as destruction, you will lose sight of the present
and hold on to the past to ensure a destructive future. And time will be
as you interpret it, for of itself it is nothing.

That lot came to mind again after watching a film on BBC Two, where a couple
of executive hotshots conspire to play an emotionally sadistic game where they
find a female wallflower to have a fake relationship with before spilling the
beans. The rationale behind this, as the main hunk says, is that no matter what
shit is played on either of them in the future, no matter how bummed out they
might feel, nothing will ever be as bad as the shit they played on this poor
sucker; something they will always be able to look back on.
Dreadful, horrible, misogynistic nastiness. But women play the same games I
know. I’m thinking of R, though L comes to mind. Her psychological and
emotional orientation would be the perfect protection against it. You always
have to give her that. She trusted no-one. This realization has came to me
many times.
The both of them strike up a friendship with her, leading to a relationship as
they predicted, as she wouldn’t be able to believe her luck. The film is either
very clever and ambiguous, or I just wasn’t paying enough attention, but I was
assuming the main hunk really was falling in love with her as he said, and this
was the twist of the film. The actual twist was, it was the other bespectacled
bloke who was, and who breaks the news of their scam to her, this after she
breaks the news to him that she’s in love with his friend and she’s deeply sorry
for having let it go on as far as it did, but she cares deeply for him and she did
genuinely have fun with him. He’s in love with her, or so he believes and we're
to believe it, and tries to force an engagement ring on her, which she rejects of
course, while he tries to convince her he’s “the good guy in all this.” Later, she
confronts hunky boy, and he’s pulling off the confused innocent act, but she
insists, and JJ says, “I was trying to let you off lightly, but fuck it,” as he laughs
at her. An incredibly cruel scene. He leaves, she’s devastated.
I forgot to mention she’s also deaf/disabled, with a corresponding speech
impediment; both are paragons of consideration and compassion through the
seduction process. His lovelorn buddy confronts him and spills the beans that
he himself is in love with her. This is of course, more than the sadistic hunk
could ever have hoped for, and worse for the other bloke, as hunky boy has
been involved with a flawless blonde the whole time who is in his bed at this
moment, and his weepy friend is cramping his style. So if he could get lost…
he’ll see him on Monday.
He gets back to bed for a snog and smugly watches her hair snake down his
chest as she gets in position for the fellatio. The other bloke pukes on the stairs.
The last scene is of him seeking the other woman out as she’s studying in the
reading-room. She ignores him. He is increasingly distraught, hysterical. The
film ends. I’m missing Malcolm in the Middle.
The psychopath manipulated both of them then. The other bloke wasn’t up to it
in the same way. She can’t return his feelings for her because what? The way
he used her? Which would reflect her own lack of forgiveness. That he wasn’t
his type anyway? Because serial-killer-like selfishness/social Darwinism
makes for better genes? Or because she feels guilty over having rejected him
for a counterfeit love and so is punishing herself for it as much as she is
punishing him? And because he colluded in bringing the situation about,
setting her up to feel guilty over her rejection of him as well as being taken in
by his friend and psychopath. And who but a psychopath would go along with
such a scheme... She got hurt and now so will he experience what she felt as
none of it might ever have come about if he hadn’t been a willing part of it.

A vicious cycle of unforgiveness it seems to me. Based on the premise others

have the means to give or withhold what we don’t ourselves have. The love of
God within us. Easy to say, I know. More difficult to keep in mind and put in
practice under emotional pressure or stress. God, don’t I know it. But I seem to
recover well from these unconscious common-garden variety sociopaths.
Society with its top-down petty hierarchies and power structures seem to breed
them like flies, as the worker drones are all too eager and ready to identify with
and give away their selves to illusory symbols of power they believe to be
outside of themselves and the only reality in place of the living (and loving)
God within.

It’s certainly tough at the time though (It's tough at the top; ha!), and I feel it as
keenly as anyone, if not more so sometimes. I can understand why CW felt he
need to switch it off in his twenties; that emotional grip a person can have over
you. I enjoyed feeling I was in love or as near as, certainly with the Canadian,
S. It seemed to permeate everything I thought and did. It felt like having
something that no-one could touch, or a secret treasure no-one knew about. Or
a pile of money in the bank you could dip into at leisure. I’m done with these
comparisons.
I think describing it as being the equivalent of an underfloor lighting,
emotionally, is the most accurate/emotive. And behind it all, the awareness it
could stop at any moment for any reason, which only makes it all the more
poignant. You could say the same of life. But ideally, life should be the same
everyday, with stable emotions and thoughts and no cares or concerns. That’s
the only real way to live.
And I experienced that Love Buzz briefly and intensely over K and I’m glad it’s
over and was glad when it was. And in retrospect, seeing it as a kind of brain
fever. But it’s more accurate to say it was a fever of the mind, of over-heated
emotions and exaggerated… expectations. Great Expectations. ...I couldn’t
believe it when I saw how the main character Pip was afraid of and treated so
severely by his mother. Even Joe, his dad or whomever he was, was afraid of
her. Reading this was a kind of revelation at the time. It was like a warm light
coming on in my mind. There can be nothing like discovering a version of
yourself in print, out there in the 'real world,' knowing it was written one
hundred years before, and the story is known all over the world.

“There was light at the end of the tunnel, and it wasn’t a train coming.” David
Bowie. Real love, real security has to replace the elation we feel through
involvement with others – it applies to things, ideas, as much as it does to
people, as it’s dependent on looking outside ourselves for that security when it’s
inside us. Not literally, not in the body, but in and of the mind, through the HS,
or Jesus, or whatever other symbol we prefer to identify with. If we believe it’s
outside of us, then we set ourselves up for believing it can be taken away and
will see ourselves as helpless victims of circumstance, the whims of others, as
well as our own capriciousness.
Right at this moment I have the thought of not having sorted it out yet, with the
usual obligations to this and that fuckwit hanging over all of this and it’s not a
pretty feeling/sight I can tell you. It takes me back to the ever so slightly sickly
feeling of when I was at school, or rather, wasn’t, as I was at the Lochee library,
in the reading-room at the back, soaking up Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn.
I knew I’d burned my boats for that period in time – and literal periods at
school, but for the time being I was in bliss, a taste of heaven on earth as I lost
myself in the deserted houseboat on 'the Great Mississippi,' exploring it with the
aforesaid Huck, and 'negro Jim,' as 'free' as they were, but their dangerous
situation was something far removed yet more serious than anything I might
encounter in the near future.
So this describes the feeling I have now, and the future beckons still, in all its
seeming uncertainty and my writing and analytical skills have improved
considerably since then, yet on the surface, little has changed, and I still feel
beholden to these outside authority figures and talentless lackeys for the most
past, all unconscionably motivated by the love of death and the will to murder.
Truth be told, if they really knew what I was about, I'm sure they'd execute me
on the spot.
In the meantime I can be patronised and condescended to and discouraged in
incremental stages by these death-worshipping, life-hating crazy people. That
fucker. I forget the context. I don’t care. And all those so-called teachers, by
elders and betters who are no more in my life and the schools is as gone as if it
had never been as is my deluded mother and her harping complaints, and as my
'advisor' and his fake company will be before my own time is over and gone,
but my thoughts might still be here as I made the effort to get some down.

All a matter of priorities, and I feel that love rising in me again in the midst of
all the madness over these years and the years over all, because my time is
coming, and for others like me as this was always our world. Not literally this
world, but the real world, here and now, in the midst of this, the old, the
counterfeit world, and the counterfeit people I’ve been describing. Alien to
themselves in the midst of their rejoicing at the death of life and creativity, but I
know they are in for the proverbial rude awakening. This time we really will
have some common sense. Soon we will see the world I’ve always dreamed of
and in all its true glory. World, Shut Your Mouth. Julian Cope.
What I’ve wanted to say, is what I want is focus. I think seeing that film drama
clarified it. Why preoccupy oneself with alternate realities and outcomes when
there is so much to get straight in this one? A lack of imagination? It’s all a
fiction. But until we're clear about the shit that’s being played on us is nothing
more nor less than a cosmic conspiracy by the ourselves in almost limitless
forms, we’ll never see the need for a real understanding of forgiveness of
ourselves through forgiving others; for what they never did to us.
But the extent of the hatred of theirs and ourselves has to be brought to our own
awareness before it can be let go of/and released. So rather than complicate
matters further, and perhaps unnecessarily, I’ve felt the need, or am feeling it, to
set things as straight in my mind as possible, which means searching for what
I’ve missed in my experience, meaning my interpretation of it.

Conversely, I see the need for this as I may have seen much that was coming,
but what I didn’t see was how it came about as well as my own input in helping
screw things up to a fair extent for myself. I’ve come to see it as due to my
tendency for false empathy, misplaced loyalty. I make the mistake of assuming
others to be as 'forgiving' as I am. Forgetting I don’t quite share the same
underlying terror of God that they do, and so as well as perhaps asking too
much of them, I also set the scene for setting myself up through giving them too
much ammo to play with, forgetting that for the former reasons, they have a
radically different way of being in the world than I do, for all my faults.

That I’m capable of forgiving myself in a way and through them that they are
incapable of following through my lead and forgiving themselves through what
they might forgive in me.
Very naïve of me. And incautious to the point of foolishness or downright
stupidity. Dumb and Dumberer. It’s all very well being certain of eventual
outcomes, but I’d like to experience it in a better or more receptive state of
mind instead of having to go through a kind of living hell in the meantime or
lead-up to it, not to mention be in one piece still. And if perceived stress is
playing havoc wish my immune system, then that may be as bad as being
actually injured in some way.
And I’ve brought it about myself. There’s the rub. But there is no satisfaction
like increasing insight and comprehension. And there will be no satisfaction to
compare to the reuniting and reconnecting with the source of all love and life.
‘Nuff Said. I have to go to bed. The permutations of my life are undoubtedly
limitless, but that’s no need to feel trapped by them. The past isn’t real. And if
I’m determined enough, nothing but nothing and no-one will stop me. I refuse
to let it happen, for anything and anyone. What do I care about their silly
delusions and guiltmongering? Unlike them, I learn by my mistakes. But the
world, and those who've never stepped outside the boundaries of the thinking of
the world would contrive and conspire to land you in hell and keep you there by
blaming you for its own past.