True Detective - Rust talks about Religion | Текст песни

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• Rust talks about Religion

Marty: um, Revival Ministry, old-time religion. You can imagine what Mr. Charisma thought of that.

Preacher: It is merely the limitation of your senses.

Rust: What do you think the average IQ of this group is, huh?

M: Can you see Texas up there on your high horse? What do you know about these people?

R: Just observation and deduction. I see a propensity for obesity, poverty, a yen for fairy tales, folks putting what few bucks they do have into little, wicker baskets being passed around. I think it's safe to say that nobody here is gonna be splitting the atom, Marty.

M: You see that? Your fucking attitude. Not everybody want to sit alone in a empty room beating off to murder manuals. Some folks enjoy community, the common good.

R: Yeah? Well, if the common good has got to make up fairy tales, then it's not good for anybody.

P: Your sorrows pin you to this place. They divide you from what your heart knows, and there are a lot of good hearts out there. I'm looking out there. I'm seeing a lot of good hearts out there. I see a lot of joy out there.

M: I mean, can you imagine if people didn't believe, what things they'd get up to?

R: Exact same thing they do now, just out in the open.

M: Bull... shit. It'd be a fucking freak show of murder and debauchery, and you know it.

R: If the only thing keeping a person decent is the expectation of divine reward, then, brother, that person is a piece of shit, and I'd like to get as many of them out in the open as possible.

M: I guess your judgment is infallible piece-of-shit wise. Do you think that notebook is a stone tablet?

R: What's it say about life, hmm, you got to get together, tell yourself stories that violate every law of the universe just to get through the goddamn day? No. What's that say about your reality, Marty?

M: When you get to talking like this, you sound panicked.

Detective: You figure it's all a scam, huh, all them folks?

R: Mm-hmm.

D: They just wrong?

R: Oh, yeah. Been that way since one monkey looked at the sun and told the other monkey, "He said for you to give me, your fucking share." People so goddamn frail they'd rather put a coin in a wishing well than buy dinner.

P: Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, Your arms open and close. The echoes of my life could never contain a single truth about You. You move the feather in the ash. You touch the leaf with its flame. - Amen! - Amen.

R: Transference of fear and self-loathing to an authoritarian vessel. It's catharsis. He absorbs their dread with his narrative. Because of this, he's effective in proportion to the amount of certainty he can project.

- Yeah! - Yeah!
- Yeah.

R: Certain linguistic anthropologists think that religion is a language virus that rewrites pathways in the brain, dulls critical thinking.

M: Well, I don't use $10 words as much as you, but for a guy who sees no point in existence, you sure fret about it an awful lot, and you still sound panicked.

R: At least I'm not racing to a red light.


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