Howlings in favour of Sade

Voice 1 The film by Guy-Ernest Debord, Howlings in favour of Sade…

Voice 2 Howlings in favour of Sade is dedicated to Gil J Wolman

Voice 3 Article 115. When a person shall have ceased to appear at his
 place of abode or home address for four years, and about whom
 there has been no news whatsoever, the interested parties
 shall be able to petition the lower court in order that his
 or her absence be declared.

Voice 1 Love is only worthwhile in a pre-revolutionary period.

Voice 2 None of them love you, you liar! Art begins, grows and
 disappears because frustrated men bypass the world of official
 expression and the festivals of its poverty.

Voice 4 (young girl) Say, did you sleep with Francoise?
Voice 1 What a time! Memorandum for a history of the cinima:
 1902 — Journey to the Moon.
 1920 — The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari.
 1924 — Entr'acte.
 1926 — Battleship Potemkin.
 1928 — Un Chien Andalou.
 1931 — City Lights
 1951 — Birth of Guy-Ernest Debord.
 1952 — The Anti-concept.--Howlings in favour of Sade.

Voice 5 "Just as the film was about to start, Guy-Ernest Debord would
 climb on stage to say a few words by way of introduction.
 He'd say simply: 'There's no film. Cinema is dead. There can't
 be film any more. If you want, let's have a discussion'."

Voice 3 Article 516. All property is either movable or immovable.

Voice 2 In order never to be alone again.

Voice 1 She is ugliness and beauty. She is like everything that we love
 today.

Voice 2 The art of the future will be the overturning of situations or
 nothing.

Voice 3 In the cafes of Saint-Germain-des-Pres!

Voice 1 You know, I like you very much.

Voice 3 An important Lettrist commando made up of some thirty members,
 all donning the filthy uniform that is their only really
 origional trademark, turned up at the Croisette with the firm
 desire of indulging in some scandal capable of drawing
 attention to themselves.

Voice 1 Happiness is a new idea in Europe.

Voice 5 "I only know about the actions of men, but in my eyes men are
 transposed, one for the other. In the final analysis, works
 alone differentiate us."

Voice 1 And their revolts became conformisms.

Voice 3 Article 488. The age of majority is fixed at twenty-one years;
 at that age one is capable of all acts of civil life.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Voice 4 (young girl) His memory always rediscovered it, in a flash, as
 if burnished by fireworks on contact with water.

Voice 1 He knew quite well that nothing of his exploits remained in a
 town that rotated with the Earth, as the Earth rotated in the
 Galaxy, which is itself only a tiny part of a little island
 which recedes away from us to infinity.

Voice 2 All black, eyes closed to the excess of disaster.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Voice 1 A science of situations is to be created, which will borrow
 elements from psychology, statistics, urbanism and ethics.
 These elements have to run together to an absolutely new
 conclusion: the concious creation of situations.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Voice 1 A few lines from a newspaper from 1950: "A leading young radio
 actress threw herself into the River Isere, Grenoble. Young
 Madeleine Reineri aged twelve and a half, who, under the
 psuedonym of Pirouette, used to liven up the radio program
 'Happy Thursdays' on the Alpes-Grenoble station, threw herself
 into the Isere on Friday afternoon having placed her satchel
 on the river bank."

Voice 2 My little sister, we are nothing to look at. The Isere and
 la misere continue. We are powerless.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Voice 4 (young girl) But no-one's talking about Sade in this film.

Voice 1 The cold interstellar space, thousands of degrees below
 freezing point or absolute zero Fahrenheit or Centigrade;
 the first indicators of dawn approaching. The hurried passage
 of Jaques Vache through the clouds of war, that catastrophic
 haste which destroyed him; the rude lashing of Arthur Craven,
 himself swallowed up at that time in the Bay of Mexico…

Voice 3 Article 1793. When an architect or a businessman is given a
 contract for the construction of a building according to a
 plan agreed to by the landowner, he cannot demand a higher
 price either on account of an increase in the workforce or
 materials, or due to any changes or additions made to the
 plan, unless such changes, additions or increases have been
 authorised in writing, and the price agreed with the landowner.

Voice 2 The perfection of suicide is ambiguity.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Voice 2 What is a love that's unique?

Voice 3 I will only answer in the presence of my lawyer.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Voice 1 Order reigns, it doesn't govern.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Voice 2 The first marvel is to come before her without knowing how to
 talk to her. The hands of the female prisoners move no faster
 than race horses filmed in slow-motion, as they touch her mouth
 and her breast. In all innocence the ropes become water and we
 flow together towards the day.

Voice 4 (young girl) I believe we'll never see each other again.

Voice 2 Near a kiss, the llights of the winter street will end.

Voice 4 (young girl) Paris was very nice thanks to the transport
 strike.

Voice 2 Jack the Ripper was never caught.

Voice 4 (young girl) It's funny, the telephone.

Voice 2 What defiant love, as Madame de Segur used to say.

Voice 4 (young girl) I will tell you some stories from my country which
 are very frightening, but they have to be told at night in
 order to be frightening.

Voice 2 My dear Ivich, the Chinese neighborhoods are unfortunately less
 populous than you think. You are 15 years old. One day the most
 fashionable colours will no longer be worn.

Voice 4 (young girl) I knew you already.

Voice 2 The drift of the continents pushes you further apart every day.
 The virgin forest has moved less than you.

Voice 4 (young girl) Guy, another minute and it'll be tommorrow.

Voice 2 The Demon of Arms. You remember. That's it. Nobody satisfies
 us. All the same… The hail on the banners of glass. We will
 remember it, that planet.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Voice 2 You will see that they will be famous later! I will never
 accept the scandalous and scarcely credible fact if the
 existence of a police force. Several cathedrals have been
 erected to the memory of Serge Berna. Love is only worthwhile
 in a pre-revolutionary period. I made this film while there
 was still enough time left to talk about it. Jean-Isidore, in
 order to get out of that transient crowd. On Gabriel-Pomerand
 Square when we've grown old. The little skivers all had
 glorious futures in the school and college systems.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Voice 2 There are still many people that morality makes neither laugh
 nor cry.

Voice 3 Article 489. The adult who is in a constant state of
 imbecility, dementia, or mad rage must be detained even
 though his state allows for intervals of lucidity.

Voice 2 So close, so gently, I lose myself in the meaninglessness
 of language. I push into you, you're wide open, it's easy.
 It's like a hot stream. It's as smooth as a sea of oil.
 It's like a forest fire.

Voice 1 It's cinema!

Voice 3 The Parisian police force is thirty thousand truncheons strong.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Voice 2 "The poetic worlds close up and forget by themselves." In a
 corner ofthe night sailors are making war, and the ships in
 bottles are for you who loved them. You lay yourself down on
 the beach as hands more loving than the rain, the wind and
 the thunder play under your dress every evening. Life is great
 in Cannes in the summer. Rape, which is forbidden, becomes
 banale in our memories. "When we were on the Shenandoah."
 Yes. Of course.

Voice 1 And these resigned faces, which once bore flashes of desire
 like ink splattered on a wall, were like shooting stars. Let
 gin, rum and brandy flow like the Great Armada. This for the
 funeral oration. But all those people were so commonplace.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Voice 1 We've had a narrow escape.

Voice 2 The most beautiful is still to come, otherwise death would
 taste like a raw steak. And wet hair on the beach which is
 too hot and which is our silence.

Voice 1 But he's a Jew!

Voice 2 We were ready to blow up all the bridges, but the bridges
 let us down.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Voice 1 Young Madeleine Reineri, aged twelve and a half, who under the
 psuedonym of Pirouette used to liven up the radio programme
 'Happy Thursday's' on the Alpes-Grenoble station, threw
 herself into the Isere.

Voice 2 Mademoiselle Reineri, in that quater of Europe, you will
 always have your surprised face and that body, the best of
 promised lands. Like neon light, words repeat their banal
 truths.

Voice 1 I love you.

Voice 4 (young girl) It must be terrible to die.

Voice 1 See you.

Voice 4 (young girl) You drink far too much.

Voice 1 What are childish love affairs?

Voice 4 (young girl) I don't know what you're talking about.

Voice 1 I knew it. And there was a time when I regretted it very much.

Voice 4 (young girl) Do you want a orange?

Voice 1 The beautiful tearing apart of the volcanic islands.

Voice 4 (young girl) In the past.

Voice 1 I've nothing more to say to you.

Voice 2 After all the answers at the wrong time, and youth getting
 older, night falls again from on high.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Voice 2 We live like lost children, our adventures incomplete.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The end.