Scarcely a day goes by without some claim that new technologies are fast writing newsprint's obituary.
[Evelyn Mulwray drives while Gittes reads an obituary from the newspaper]
Jake Gittes: A memorial service was held at the Mar Vista Inn today for Jasper Lamar Crabb. He passed away two weeks ago.
Evelyn Mulwray: Why is that unusual?
Jake Gittes: He passed away two weeks ago and one week ago he bought the land. That's unusual.
Beetlejuice: Let's see, business section.
[he flips to the obituary page of a newspaper]
Beetlejuice: Ooh la la. What do we got here? The Maitlands, uh? Cute couple. Look nice and stupid, too.
Sally Albright: At least I got the apartment.
Harry Burns: That's what everyone says. But, really, what's so hard about finding an apartment? What you do is look in the obituary section. You see who died, find out where they lived, and tip the doorman. What they could do to make it easier is combine the two. You know, Mr. Kline died yesterday, leaving
behind a wife, two children, and a spacious three bedroom apartment with a wood burning fireplace.
Joel: What's the point of being a writer or an artist anyway? Herman Melville wrote fuckin' Moby Dick, he was so poor and forgot by the time he died that in his obituary they called him Henry Melville. You know, like why bother? They're just going to forget our fuckin' names anyway. I heard Em went back to New York.
James Brennan: I wish it didn't end like
that, I should've - I don't know.
[Beat]
James Brennan: Your Herman Melville story that - that's bullshit.
Joel: It's true, they called him Henry.
James Brennan: No, I mean, he wrote a seven-hundred page allegorical novel about the whaling industry. I think he was a pretty passionate guy, Joel. I hope they call me Henry
when I die, too.
Joel: One can only hope