students,
their inexcusable neglect of work
and their sheer chutzpah.
Oh, Miss Cummings is devastated.
Give me a break, will you?
To charge me with racism
is not only false,
it is spectacularly false!
And you know it!
Thanks a lot, Herb.
- Well, I've quit.
- What?
I've resigned from
that half-assed college.
Where's that last year's phone book?
Wait a minute.
Wait a minute. What happened?
- I've been accused of a racist epithet.
- What racist epithet?
I used the word "spooks," which
fifty years ago was just a slang
I know what it was slang for.
Where's that phone book?
We'll sue these wimpy bastards.
- I want that lawyer, Alfred or whatever
- Wait, did you remind them
- that when you were dean you...
- Yeah, I reminded them.
No, you hired Herb Keble,
the first black...
- Please, "African-American," please.
- Okay
- African-American, ever on the faculty.
- Where's that book?
Isn't Herb on the same committee?
- But wait, wait, just tell me
- Yes, he is.
And they're our friends,
for God's sake!
- Did Herb even open his mouth?
- Yes, yes.
I'm sorry, Coleman, I can't be
with you on this. Bullshit.
Fine, fine. They want to fight?
I'll give them a fight
that they'll never forget!
This is absolute lunacy!
After 35 years of your devotion
Now you know what we're going to do?
We're going to organize.
We're going to get them to sign
a petition. That's what we'll do.
No. You know what we're going to do?
We're going to do a two-pronged attack.
We're going to attack
We're going to get lawyers,
because I know some...
Okay. I know. Which is why
- Coly?
- What?
- Something's wrong.
- I know there is. What do you mean?
- Coly
- What's the matter?
- Coly
- Hey, come on, sit down.
What's the matter?
Come on.
- Come on.
- I'm sorry.
It's all right.
I'm sorry
Iris Silk died several hours later
in her husband's arms.
Six months after that,
Coleman came into my life.
I had been living alone in a small cabin
by a lake not far from Athena.
Including questions
about my private life...
questions no American citizen
would ever want to answer.
Still, I must take
complete responsibility
for all my actions
both public and private.
And that is why I am
speaking to you tonight.
- As you know, in a deposition in January
- Hello?
I was asked questions
about my relationship
- Are you Mr. Zuckerman?
- Yeah.
- Are you Nathan Zuckerman?
- Yeah.
You're the Zuckerman
that's the writer, correct?
- Yeah, but
- We've got to talk. May I come in?
Thanks. Your last book won
some sort of prize, right?
- It was short-listed for the
- That was 5 years ago. What happened?
You're blocked, right?
You're blocked!
You're worried you don't
have another story in you.
Well, I can fix that.
I'm the answer to your prayers.
- You know who I am?
- Dean Silk?
Dean Coleman Silk.
That's right.
The late, retired and now resigned
and unlamented Dean Silk,
following the murder
you clock that?
Following the murder of my wife.
How's that grab you, Zuckerman?
That good enough to
get your juices flowing?
I'm not sure I understand.
Those sons of bitches
killed my wife, Nathan.
They killed my wife as if they'd taken
a gun and fired it into her heart.
Yeah. Who would've thought
Iris couldn't take it
as strong as she was,
brave as she was? But, uh
yeah, their kind of stupidity was too
much even for a juggernaut like my Iris.
Massive embolism.
Pow! I got her to the hospital,
but it was too late.
The point is they meant to kill me
but they got her instead.
All in the name of
political correctness.
There's an oxymoron
if ever I heard one.
So, there's your book, Nathan.
You mind if I call you Nathan?
- Look, Dean...
- Just Coleman.
All my other titles
I have given away.
Coleman. Look, I'm sorry but I write
fiction, and at the moment I'm...
Believe methis thing will read
like The Manchurian Candidate.
They murdered the wrong person,
for Christ's sakes!
For one