Kate:
I hate television - gives me headaches.
Becca:
You know, there's so many magnetic waves travelling in the airspace because of TV and television, we're losing like ten times as many brain cells as we're supposed to.
Kate:
Oh, please!
Kate:
The cow says blank? Three letters?
Becca:
Dude!
Kate:
Dude! I dont know, magnetic waves, brain cells, I don?t understand the connection between all that stuff.
Becca:
You know what else I heard? Magnetic waves shrink silicone molecules. [both look down at breasts]
Becca:
Agghh! Oh, my God, turn it off!
Kate:
It's not working!
Becca:
It's backwards!
Kate:
What do we do?
Becca:
I dont know! Aghhhh!
Kate:
That was kind of scary.
Becca:
I know something even scarier.
Kate:
Ooh, what?
Becca:
Have you heard about this videotape?
Kate:
The one where they do it on the boat and then in the car and then in the bathtub? And he's like, "Hey, baby, I love you? and she's like "Where are we?" And did you see the size...?
Becca:
No. Not that tape. The one with all the scary images, and after you watch the tape, the phone rings and this really scary voice comes on and says you're gonna die in like...
Kate:
Seven days! Yeah, I saw that one with Josh last weekend!
Becca:
You were with Josh last weeknd? Oh, my God! [throws pillow at Kate]
Kate:
Oh, yes I was! [hits Becca with laptop]
Becca:
You ho! [smashes glass vase on Kate's head]
Kate:
You know it! [pulls Becca's G-string up]
Kate:
[phone rings]
Becca:
[walking to the phone] This is really weird.
Kate:
Yeah, big house, only one phone.
Eldest Son:
When you're young, and the woman in your hands is young, you're provoked by the life in her skin, in the muscles under her skin. You can smell life in the sweet perfume of her sweat and her breath, sweet perfume that can make you dizzy. You can sense life in the jittery convulsions of her reactions to every new touch and sensation. And you feel young and alive and jolted by excitement every time you come near her. But the older you get, the older the woman in your hands gets, you grow lulled by the lazy response of her flesh to your touch. Lulled by the numb response of your own nerves to her flesh. By the sluggish torpor of her muscles. The souring perfume of her sweat, of her tears. The souring smell of her old guts belching out air. And it's a curse. Because getting older doesn't make you like being with an old woman any more than you did when you were young. It's worse really, because it lacks even the thrill of novelty of the forbidden. She's just old and she reminds you that you're old, and that your old shell is still taking up space, but that it's life is almost gone.
Eldest Son:
But nothing is worse than being old and holding youth in your hands, even youth that's thrilled by the novelty of you, because you can still smell youth's sweetness, feel the spring of muscles under taut skin, but you know isn't yours. You're not sharing in it, but are feeding off it like some kind of vampire. And you wonder what the point is - what the point of going on living, the point of loving, the point of touching. And all your instincts, your training, have made you too afraid to pull the trigger and end it yourself. To take responsibility that nature's abdicated into your own trembling weakening hands. You stare at those hands, studying them, wondering what they are, why you can't make them do what you want them to do. You stare down at your hands and you realize that even your own hands aren't really yours any more.
Eldest Son:
And you look up from your hands into the mirror, and you see a face that you recognize, a face you've been staring at your entire life, for eternity. And you remember that the face is yours, but you have no idea who you are any more. And the person you once were, who had any kind of cohesiveness or connection to himself, feels a million miles away. Like the native of some alien planet you visited long ago, in another lifetime.
Alex:
There should be a stairway down to the water, a porch, a deck. Here, you're in a - in a box. A glass box with a view to everything that's around you... but you can't touch it. No interconnection between you and what you're looking at.
Henry Wyler:
I don't know, you know. He's got this big maple growing right in the middle of the house.
Alex:
Containment. [He pushes a button which opens a glass door]
Alex:
Containment and control. This house is about ownership, not connection. I mean, it's beautiful. Seductive, even. But, it's incomplete. [He pauses]
Alex:
It was all about him. Dad knew how to build a house, not a home. But you know... I think he wants us to do what he couldn't. But, admitting that would mean admitting that he came up short in some way... that he could do more. And that tortures him.
Henry Wyler:
Do you remembering being here with Mom?
Alex:
I remember she tried to make it work here... with us... with him.
Prot:
You know what I've learned about your planet? There's enough life on Earth to fill 50 planets. Plants, animals, people, fungi, viruses, all jostling to find their place, bouncing off each other, feeding off each other. Connected.
Dr. Mark Powell:
You don't have that kind of connection on K-PAX?
Prot:
Nobody wants, nobody needs. On K-PAX, when I'm gone, nobody misses me. There would be no reason to. And yet I sense that when I leave here... I will be missed. Yes. Strange feeling.
