Throw Away Your Books, Rally in the Streets (書を捨てよ町へ出よう)

What are you doing there?

Hanging around isn't going to make anything happen.

The screen's completely blank.

Everybody here is just as sick of waiting around as you are.

You wonder if I know any jokes...

The difference between you and me?

You're not allowed to smoke, but me, I'm free.

You shouldn't get so uptight you know. Try and distract yourself for a minute.

Put your hand out to the girl next to you.

You'll see. Go on, stroke her knee.

If that doesn't work, don't get too upset. Nobody knows who you are.

Nobody knows who I am. My name's never been in the papers.

I've no name, no money, and I'm dirty.

I used to work at Glico Food's factory not so long ago.

But it pissed me off and I left.

They say if you suck a sweet you can run 300 yards.

I'd have to eat mountains of them. It still takes me 17 sec. to run 100 yards.

I was born under Taurus.

Nobody knows who I am.

I wanted to be a boxer, but I got scared and split after three days.

I only ever looked at my dressings. I'm just a wimp.

Nobody knows who I am.

After that film, the one where Ken Takakura fought like the devil...

...you came out swinging your shoulders as if you'd killed two or three men yourself.

Yes, you!

But what came over you?

I don't forget, you know.

I was crying alone...

...in the darkness of the cinema.

I had curried rice in a cheap restaurant.

Someone had left a paper on the table, and I read:

"Glider Crashes in the Tsushima Channel"

"A young Korean, Lee Ho-gen, was killed"

Struck by this, I looked up at the sky.

Cloudy, clearing later.

Occasional showers.

On cheap, metal-framed wings...

...the Korean daredevil had tried to fly home.

I envy those few yards of sky where you flew.

And I always had this cold...

...weeping over my own clumsiness, me.

I'm a "human plane." A foundryman in a steelworks at 28,000 yen a month.

Nobody knows who I am.

A street behind scruffy workshops.

From this corner of an airing cupboard of a missed-out life...

On the wall of an old people's home...

On a blackboard of a college which I failed to enter...

On the walls of a public toilet...

...everywhere in the streets, I scribble my alibi.

You'd better remember it, I won't say it twice.

I am called...

I am called...

THROW AWAY YOUR BOOKS, RALLY IN THE STREETS

You hold your breath.

You wait for something

Like a wild animal...

I'd like to break out of my cage.

I'd like to shout out to you at the top of my voice...

I'd like to shout out to you.

Shout out a message to you.

The sun is setting.

You don't know where from.

You don't hear a thing.

That's the trick! That's it!

Don't bother about me. All you've got to do is die.

Official address: Inuotose, Rokunohe, Kamikita, prefecture of Aomori.

Name and surname: Kitamura, Eimei

Born October 11th, 1949, at Furumagi, Rokunohe.

Registered October 14th...

...at the request of his mother, Ine.

Grandfather Kamekichi, deceased.

Grandmother, Tome.

Father, Masaharu.

Mother, Ine, deceased.

Younger sister, Setsu.

This birth certificate is taken from the State civil register.

My grandmother, an old pickpocket and shoplifter.

My father, a beaten dog, a war criminal.

My sister, a man-hating whore.

My house: 33-9, Totsuka, Shinjuku-ku.

A pigsty.

Are you going out?

- If you are, do me a favor. - What?

- Post something for me. - A postcard?

Another competition! At your age!

- It's for a holiday in Hawaii! - Hawaii?

If I win, I'll take you too. How about that?

Just give me back my 2000 yen and forget about Hawaii.

Give me back that 2000 yen I lent you.

I need it for tomorrow.

You've started drinking again.

You shouldn't drink.

Can you solve that riddle...

It goes like this:

"What don't you make when you use it?"

2000 yen!

"And you use when you don't use it?" Can you guess?

You know what they call you, my friend?

Don't call me that. I'm still "father" to you.

Father.

- You've been spying in the women's toilet. - Who told you that?

Those stupid ideas of yours.

- My sister saw you. - Setsuko?

That's enough.

That's enough.

Where are you going?

What time will you be back?

Don't forget the postcard!

It's always the same.

His family mean nothing to him.

Eimei! Wait! I'm coming with you!

The competition - the answer is the bathtub lid!

- Wait! I'm coming up with you! - Too late!

Human strength! Human strength!

Human strength! Human strength! Terrible!

I'm going to fly one day.

Fly on my own!

Into the sky on these strong legs!

My father is a peeping Tom!

In women's toilets.

A mean old sod. A bum haunted by creditors.

All mildewed and wrinkled! Make them fly!

I'm flying! I'll always fly!

I'm flying! I'm flying!

I'm a human airplane! I'm flying!

"I have a heart that whistles everywhere." -Vladimir Mayakovsky

There's no point going on playing football.

It's a kid's game for men.

It's a war with rules. It's a mug's game.

On a real grass pitch one should play with a real skull!

- Soap, tackle. - Who needs soap?

Instead of sending me Marx's "Das Kapital"...

...my father sent me "How to Succeed Without Trying!" A fat lot he cares!

So you're back!

- I wanted to be ball boy. - It's all over for today.

Maybe I can clear up?

You're too much! Wait here!

We'll have a drink together.

Coming into the shower with me?

Mr. Omi...

In the old days, did they really use a man's head instead of a ball?

Yes, it was a soldier's game.

Why do you ask?

I'd like to have had a kick at it too.

Mr. Omi...

Haven't you got a girlfriend?

Why do you ask that?

I play football because the ball's big.

Baseball is more virile than ping pong because the ball's bigger.

But a football is bigger still.

The bigger it is, the more virile it is.

A word about cigarettes - they call them "Peace."

But that's not peace!

What I want is the real thing, real "peace."

The real thing, real peace!

INTRODUCTION TO DRUG ABUSE FOR YOUNG PEOPLE

That makes me mad.

I don't know why, but that really makes me see red.

I don't think you should keep quiet about it when you feel like that.

So I've made a punch-bag for everybody.

I hung it up in the middle of the street...

...so everyone could bash it and calm their nerves.

I thought all Tokyo would come running.

And that the bag would be full of holes, like honeycomb.

But then a cop came.

He said, "you can't hang it like that."

I don't know why not.

Good morning. Are you from the police?

- Are you? - No, I'm not.

Then why did you tell me to take the bag away?

Why have you got that?

It's not a crime to hang this up.

- What is that bag for? - I don't know, nothing.

It's just something to punch.

I beg your pardon... sorry.

The university - who is it for?

The Turkish bath - who is it for?

The peace movement - who is it for?

The pink film - who is it for?

The skyjack - who is it for?

Masturbation - who is it for?

Dynamite - who is it for?

Your liberation - who is it for?

Your arrest - who is it for?

It's all your fault! All your fault!

It's your own fault! Your own fault!

I've got another one.

Do you think it'll suit me?

Learn to hold your head up.

Let's go where they'll make you a man.

Will it work? I have no confidence.

No one does at first.

But... I won't catch anything?

Calm down, I'm not taking you anywhere dangerous.

- But I... - What is it?

I haven't a cent.

Don't worry, it's on credit.

Your shirt stinks.

Midori!

You call too.