Joel: What’s the point of being a writer or an artist anyway?
Herman Melville wrote fucking Moby Dick, and he was so poor and forgotten by the time he died that in his obituary, they called him Henry Melville.
You know? Like, why bother? They’re just gonna forget our fucking names anyway.
James: Your Herman Melville story, that’s bullshit.
Joel: It’s true. They called him Henry.
James: No, I mean he wrote a 700-page allegorical novel about the whaling industry.
I think he was… I think he was a pretty passionate guy, Joel.
I hope they call me Henry when I die, too.
by Greg Mottola
You know that story of the Russian cosmonaut? So, the cosmonaut, He’s the first man ever to go into space. Right? The Russians beat the Americans. So he goes up in this big spaceship, but the only habitable part of it’s very small. So the cosmonaut’s in there, and he’s got this portal window, and he’s looking out of it, and he sees the curvature of the Earth for the first time. I mean, the first man to ever look at the planet he’s from. And he’s lost in that moment. And all of a sudden this strange ticking… Begins coming out of the dashboard. Rips out the control panel, right? Takes out his tools. Trying to find the sound, trying to stop the sound. But he can’t find it. He can’t stop it. It keeps going. Few hours into this, begins to feel like torture. A few days go by with this sound, and he knows that this small sound… will break him. He’ll lose his mind. What’s he gonna do? He’s up in space, alone, in a space closet. He’s got 25 days left to go… with this sound. So the cosmonaut decides… the only way to save his sanity… is to fall in love with this sound. So he closes his eyes… and he goes into his imagination, and then he opens them. He doesn’t hear ticking anymore. He hears music. And he spends the sailing through space in total bliss… and peace.
Another Earth by