You might be a nerd if…

…you can pick out an obscure quote from a semi-obscure science-fiction television show during a completely unrelated radio ad.

I was sitting in my car on the way down to Richmond on Thursday a little before noon listening to WINC 92.5 FM out of Winchester. While listening to the radio, I heard an advertisement for their “retro” hour of music and it had a distinctive quote that I recognized, “Time is meaningless and yet it is all that exists.”

I sat there thinking for a second, knowing for a fact that I recognized not only the distinctive voice but also the quote. Then it came to me, it was from an episode of Farscape, specifically the episode “Unrealized Reality” (season four, episode eleven). Here’s video of the scene:

You can read a transcript of the scene below the fold.

Act opens with close on John [Crichton], on his back, eyes closed, in a field of white. Eyes opening almost immediately, he lifts his head slightly, peering through the clear face shield to take in his surroundings. His voice expresses low certainty, and then mild disgust.

JOHN: Kansas… in the winter.

Cut to long and angle down as he levers himself to hands and knees and then to feet. He looks around what appears to be a large ice floe at the center of a black, featureless sea. Pillars of white ice surround a fractured central valley.

JOHN: (comming) D’Argo… Pilot…. (to self) Ah, hell, I’m gettin’ that “goin’ to the Island of Misfit Toys” thing.

He moves to the edge of the ice floe and peers into the blackness, then looks around the ice.

JOHN: (continues muttering to self) Or just waitin’ on the Titanic. Well, as long as this whole deal doesn’t end up with me as an old man. (shouting) Hello! Nanook?! Beelzebub?!

His hail is interrupted by a swirling noise as the water around the ice floe churns with several black whirling vortexes which surround the ice.

JOHN: Yeah, let’s get it on. Get it over with.

In the relative silence John turns abruptly, correct in sensing someone behind him. On the other end of the ice floe a man wearing a black suit and tie stands, hands folded at his waist, his eyes black and fathomless. They watch each other silently for a long beat broken by John’s caustic good humor, replacing that compassionate understanding thing.

JOHN: Nice threads. Helps to humanize you. Makes it easier for me to sympathize with your problems.

MAN: Time.

John tilts his head slightly, makes no response.

MAN: Time.

JOHN: Zzup?

MAN: Time.

JOHN: Flies.

MAN: Time.

JOHN: Bandits.

MAN: Time.

The man begins moving closer, John’s response taking on a harder edge.

JOHN: Wounds all heels.

MAN: Time.

JOHN: (singing) Rosemary and Thyme…

MAN: Time.

John pulls a small pulse weapon from the flight harness over the EVA suit and fires.

JOHN: Zzup.

The energy of the pulse bolt freezes about a foot from the well dressed man’s face. The man looks… vaguely disappointed, turning he moves back toward the far side of the ice floe, muttering one more time…

MAN: Time.

John eyes the small pistol wryly.

JOHN: (to self) Either stop pointin’ guns at people or get a bigger gun.

John takes a few steps closer, almost following the well dressed man who appears to be examining the frozen pulse bolt, which is, itself, continuing in it’s flight… at a much subdued rate.

MAN: Time is…

Long pause while John takes another, disinterested look around.

JOHN: Infinite.

Clearly thinking of a better answer, giving it with greater interest.

JOHN: Relative.

The energy of the pulse bolt winks out as the well dressed man turns back toward John.

MAN: You are quite a simple organism to possess the knowledge you do.

JOHN: You’re only sayin’ that ’cause you don’t know me.

MAN: Time is meaningless and yet it is all that exists.

JOHN: Very Morrissey. My name is Jo—

MAN: Yes.

JOHN: And yours is…

MAN: Unimportant to our encounter.

JOHN: (mirthless chuckle) Exactly. I love how you lay it out there, Einstien. So let me ask you, without… getting existential on me— why am I, why are we… here?

EINSTEIN: You are present to perish, I am present to effect that outcome.

JOHN: Kansas… in the winter.

Cut to long and angle down as he levers himself to hands and knees and then to feet. He looks around what appears to be a large ice floe at the center of a black, featureless sea. Pillars of white ice surround a fractured central valley.

JOHN: (comming) D’Argo… Pilot…. (to self) Ah, hell, I’m gettin’ that “goin’ to the Island of Misfit Toys” thing.

He moves to the edge of the ice floe and peers into the blackness, then looks around the ice.

JOHN: (continues muttering to self) Or just waitin’ on the Titanic. Well, as long as this whole deal doesn’t end up with me as an old man. (shouting) Hello! Nanook?! Beelzebub?!

His hail is interrupted by a swirling noise as the water around the ice floe churns with several black whirling vortexes which surround the ice.

JOHN: Yeah, let’s get it on. Get it over with.

In the relative silence John turns abruptly, correct in sensing someone behind him. On the other end of the ice floe a man wearing a black suit and tie stands, hands folded at his waist, his eyes black and fathomless. They watch each other silently for a long beat broken by John’s caustic good humor, replacing that compassionate understanding thing.

JOHN: Nice threads. Helps to humanize you. Makes it easier for me to sympathize with your problems.

MAN: Time.

John tilts his head slightly, makes no response.

MAN: Time.

JOHN: Zzup?

MAN: Time.

JOHN: Flies.

MAN: Time.

JOHN: Bandits.

MAN: Time.

The man begins moving closer, John’s response taking on a harder edge.

JOHN: Wounds all heels.

MAN: Time.

JOHN: (singing) Rosemary and Thyme…

MAN: Time.

John pulls a small pulse weapon from the flight harness over the EVA suit and fires.

JOHN: Zzup.

The energy of the pulse bolt freezes about a foot from the well dressed man’s face. The man looks… vaguely disappointed, turning he moves back toward the far side of the ice floe, muttering one more time…

MAN: Time.

John eyes the small pistol wryly.

JOHN: (to self) Either stop pointin’ guns at people or get a bigger gun.

John takes a few steps closer, almost following the well dressed man who appears to be examining the frozen pulse bolt, which is, itself, continuing in it’s flight… at a much subdued rate.

MAN: Time is…

Long pause while John takes another, disinterested look around.

JOHN: Infinite.

Clearly thinking of a better answer, giving it with greater interest.

JOHN: Relative.

The energy of the pulse bolt winks out as the well dressed man turns back toward John.

MAN: You are quite a simple organism to possess the knowledge you do.

JOHN: You’re only sayin’ that ’cause you don’t know me.

MAN: Time is meaningless and yet it is all that exists.

JOHN: Very Morrissey. My name is Jo—

MAN: Yes.

JOHN: And yours is…

MAN: Unimportant to our encounter.

JOHN: (mirthless chuckle) Exactly. I love how you lay it out there, Einstien. So let me ask you, without… getting existential on me— why am I, why are we… here?

EINSTEIN: You are present to perish, I am present to effect that outcome.

1 Comment

  1. slayme says:

    One of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite episodes of one of my favorite shows. Thanks for posting this. Farscape rules.

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