Morpheus addresses the people of Zion in Matrix Reloaded
Morpheus: [Morpheus addresses the people of Zion] Zion, hear me! It is true, what many of you have heard. The machines have gathered an army and as I speak, that army is drawing nearer to our home.
[the Zion crowd becomes louder]
Morpheus: Believe me when I say we have a difficult time ahead of us. But if we are to be prepared for it, we must first shed our fear of it. I stand here, before you now, truthfully unafraid. Why? Because I believe something you do not? No, I stand here without fear because I remember. I remember that I am here not because of the path that lies before me but because of the path that lies behind me. I remember that for 100 years we have fought these machines. I remember that for 100 years they have sent their armies to destroy us, and after a century of war I remember that which matters most... We are still here! Today, let us send a message to that army. Tonight, let us shake this cave. Tonight, let us tremble these halls of earth, steel, and stone, let us be heard from red core to black sky. Tonight, let us make them remember, THIS IS ZION AND WE ARE NOT AFRAID!
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Paradox of our time
Paradox of our time in history
The paradox of our time in history is that:
We have taller buildings, but shorter tempers;
Wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints;
We spend more, but have less;
We buy more, but enjoy it less.
We have bigger houses and smaller families;
More conveniences, but less time;
We have more degrees, but less sense;
More knowledge, but less judgment;
More experts, but more problems;
More medicine, but less wellness.
We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values.
We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.
We've learned how to make a living, but not a life;
We've added years to life, not life to years.
We've been all the way to the moon and back,
But have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbor.
We've conquered outer space, but not inner space;
We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul;
We've split the atom, but not our prejudice.
We have higher incomes, but lower morals;
We've become long on quantity, but short on quality.
These are the times of tall men, and short character;
Steep profits, and shallow relationships.
These are the times of world peace, but domestic warfare;
More leisure, but less fun;
More kinds of food, but less nutrition.
These are days of two incomes, but more divorce;
Of fancier houses, but broken homes.
It is a time when there is much in the show window
And nothing in the stockroom;
A time when technology can bring this letter to you,
And a time when you can choose either to make a difference
Or just hit delete.
The paradox of our time in history is that:
We have taller buildings, but shorter tempers;
Wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints;
We spend more, but have less;
We buy more, but enjoy it less.
We have bigger houses and smaller families;
More conveniences, but less time;
We have more degrees, but less sense;
More knowledge, but less judgment;
More experts, but more problems;
More medicine, but less wellness.
We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values.
We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.
We've learned how to make a living, but not a life;
We've added years to life, not life to years.
We've been all the way to the moon and back,
But have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbor.
We've conquered outer space, but not inner space;
We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul;
We've split the atom, but not our prejudice.
We have higher incomes, but lower morals;
We've become long on quantity, but short on quality.
These are the times of tall men, and short character;
Steep profits, and shallow relationships.
These are the times of world peace, but domestic warfare;
More leisure, but less fun;
More kinds of food, but less nutrition.
These are days of two incomes, but more divorce;
Of fancier houses, but broken homes.
It is a time when there is much in the show window
And nothing in the stockroom;
A time when technology can bring this letter to you,
And a time when you can choose either to make a difference
Or just hit delete.
Sambhar of 69
Sambhar of 69
I had my first real six rupees,
Stole it from my father's pants.
went to a madrasi hotel,
to eat the sambhar of 69.
Me and some kadke dost,
had it all and we caught bukhaar,
jimy puked, joey got ulcers,
and Bagga ne maari dakar.
Oh when I went back there now,
the food was as stale as ever,
and though it was 1999,
still the sambhar was being served over there,
that was the worst food of my life.
Therez no use in complaining,
when you got no other place to eat,
rushed in the evening to the doctors clinic,
but he too was at the toilet seat, yeah
standing there waiting outside,
nurse told me I will wait forever,
oh and when I held my breath,
I knew that I had to use that loo there
That was the worst food of my life.
Back to the sambhar of 69.
Man I was getting killed,
I was full and restless,
I needed to unwind,
I guess nothing can wait forever - FOREVER... NO!!!!
And now the dhabas are changing,
new dishes have come and gone,
sometimes when I pass that old madrasi lane,
I still smell it, I can't be wrong.
Standing in those unwashed clothes,
the waiters still call me in there,
oh the way my nostrils burn,
I know that it will be served forever,
what was the worst food of my life.
yeah it was the sambhar of 69,
the sambhar, the sambhar, the sambhar of 69
I had my first real six rupees,
Stole it from my father's pants.
went to a madrasi hotel,
to eat the sambhar of 69.
Me and some kadke dost,
had it all and we caught bukhaar,
jimy puked, joey got ulcers,
and Bagga ne maari dakar.
Oh when I went back there now,
the food was as stale as ever,
and though it was 1999,
still the sambhar was being served over there,
that was the worst food of my life.
Therez no use in complaining,
when you got no other place to eat,
rushed in the evening to the doctors clinic,
but he too was at the toilet seat, yeah
standing there waiting outside,
nurse told me I will wait forever,
oh and when I held my breath,
I knew that I had to use that loo there
That was the worst food of my life.
Back to the sambhar of 69.
Man I was getting killed,
I was full and restless,
I needed to unwind,
I guess nothing can wait forever - FOREVER... NO!!!!
And now the dhabas are changing,
new dishes have come and gone,
sometimes when I pass that old madrasi lane,
I still smell it, I can't be wrong.
Standing in those unwashed clothes,
the waiters still call me in there,
oh the way my nostrils burn,
I know that it will be served forever,
what was the worst food of my life.
yeah it was the sambhar of 69,
the sambhar, the sambhar, the sambhar of 69
IF
[IF]
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!
--Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!
--Rudyard Kipling
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Out of Order
Monologue by Al Pacino (Col. Frank Slade) in Scent of a Woman
Bo Goldman (screenplay)
Mr. Trask: Mr. Sims, you are a cover-up artist and you are a liar.
Col. Frank Slade: But not a snitch!
Trask: Excuse me?
Slade: No, I don't think I will. This is such a crock of shit.
Trask: Mr. Slade, you will watch your language. You are at the Baird School now not a barracks. Now Mr. Sims I will give you one final opportunity to speak up.
Slade: Mr. Sims doesn't want it. He doesn't need to labeled, "...still worthy of being a 'Baird Man.'" What the hell is that? What is your motto here? Boys, inform on your classmates, save your hide. Anything short of that we're gonna burn you at the stake? Well, gentlemen. When the shit hits the fan, some guys run and some guys stay. Here's Charlie--facing the fire, and there's George--hiding in big Daddy's pocket. And what are you gonna do? You're gonna reward George, and destroy Charlie.
Trask: Are you finished, Mr. Slade?
Slade: No. I'm just gettin' warmed up. Now I don't know who went to this place--William Howard Taft, William Jennings Bryan, William Tell. Whoever. Their spirit is dead--if they ever had one--it's gone. You're building a rat ship here. A vessel for sea going snitches. And if you think your preparing these minnows for manhood you better think again. Because I say you are killing the very spirit this institution proclaims it instills. What a sham! What kind of show are you guys puttin' on here today. I mean, the only class in this act is sittin' next to me. And I say, this boy's soul is in tact. It is non-negotiable. You know how I know. Because someone here--I'm not gonna say who--offered to buy it. Only Charlie here wasn't selling.
Mr.Trask: Sir, you are out of order!
Slade: Out of order, I'll show you out of order! You don't know what out of order is Mr.Trask! I'd show you but I'm too old, I'm too tired, and I'm too fuckin' blind. If I were the man I was five years ago I'd take a flame-thrower to this place. Out of order, who the hell do you think you're talking to? I've been around you know? There was a time I could see. And I have seen, boys like these, younger than these, their arms torn out, their legs ripped off. But there isn't nothin' like the sight of an amputated spirit, there is no prosthetic for that. You think you're merely sending this splendid foot-soldier back home to Oregon with his tail between his legs but I say that you are executing his soul. And why? Because he's not a Baird man. Baird men, you hurt this boy, you're going to be Baird Bums, the lot of ya. And Harry, Jimmy, Trent, wherever you are out there, fuck you too.
Mr. Trask: Stand down Mr. Slade!
Slade: I'm not finished! Now as I came in here, I heard those words...cradle of leadership. Well, when the bow breaks, the cradle will fall. And it has fallen here, it has fallen! Makers of men, creators of leaders, be careful what kind of leaders you're producing here. Now, I don't know if Charlie's silence here today is right or wrong; I'm no judge or jury. But I can tell you this: he won't sell anybody out to buy his future! And that my friends is called integrity, that's called courage. Now that's the stuff leaders should be made of. (pause) Now I have come to the crossroads in my days, and I have always known the right path, always, without exception, I knew. But I never took it, you know why? Because it's too damn hard. Now here's Charlie; he's come to the crossroads. And he's chosen a path, it's the right path. It's a path made of principle, that leads to character. Let him continue on his journey. You hold this boy's future in your hands committee! It's a valuable future. Believe me! Don't destroy...protect it...embrace it. It's gonna make you proud some day...I promise.
Bo Goldman (screenplay)
Mr. Trask: Mr. Sims, you are a cover-up artist and you are a liar.
Col. Frank Slade: But not a snitch!
Trask: Excuse me?
Slade: No, I don't think I will. This is such a crock of shit.
Trask: Mr. Slade, you will watch your language. You are at the Baird School now not a barracks. Now Mr. Sims I will give you one final opportunity to speak up.
Slade: Mr. Sims doesn't want it. He doesn't need to labeled, "...still worthy of being a 'Baird Man.'" What the hell is that? What is your motto here? Boys, inform on your classmates, save your hide. Anything short of that we're gonna burn you at the stake? Well, gentlemen. When the shit hits the fan, some guys run and some guys stay. Here's Charlie--facing the fire, and there's George--hiding in big Daddy's pocket. And what are you gonna do? You're gonna reward George, and destroy Charlie.
Trask: Are you finished, Mr. Slade?
Slade: No. I'm just gettin' warmed up. Now I don't know who went to this place--William Howard Taft, William Jennings Bryan, William Tell. Whoever. Their spirit is dead--if they ever had one--it's gone. You're building a rat ship here. A vessel for sea going snitches. And if you think your preparing these minnows for manhood you better think again. Because I say you are killing the very spirit this institution proclaims it instills. What a sham! What kind of show are you guys puttin' on here today. I mean, the only class in this act is sittin' next to me. And I say, this boy's soul is in tact. It is non-negotiable. You know how I know. Because someone here--I'm not gonna say who--offered to buy it. Only Charlie here wasn't selling.
Mr.Trask: Sir, you are out of order!
Slade: Out of order, I'll show you out of order! You don't know what out of order is Mr.Trask! I'd show you but I'm too old, I'm too tired, and I'm too fuckin' blind. If I were the man I was five years ago I'd take a flame-thrower to this place. Out of order, who the hell do you think you're talking to? I've been around you know? There was a time I could see. And I have seen, boys like these, younger than these, their arms torn out, their legs ripped off. But there isn't nothin' like the sight of an amputated spirit, there is no prosthetic for that. You think you're merely sending this splendid foot-soldier back home to Oregon with his tail between his legs but I say that you are executing his soul. And why? Because he's not a Baird man. Baird men, you hurt this boy, you're going to be Baird Bums, the lot of ya. And Harry, Jimmy, Trent, wherever you are out there, fuck you too.
Mr. Trask: Stand down Mr. Slade!
Slade: I'm not finished! Now as I came in here, I heard those words...cradle of leadership. Well, when the bow breaks, the cradle will fall. And it has fallen here, it has fallen! Makers of men, creators of leaders, be careful what kind of leaders you're producing here. Now, I don't know if Charlie's silence here today is right or wrong; I'm no judge or jury. But I can tell you this: he won't sell anybody out to buy his future! And that my friends is called integrity, that's called courage. Now that's the stuff leaders should be made of. (pause) Now I have come to the crossroads in my days, and I have always known the right path, always, without exception, I knew. But I never took it, you know why? Because it's too damn hard. Now here's Charlie; he's come to the crossroads. And he's chosen a path, it's the right path. It's a path made of principle, that leads to character. Let him continue on his journey. You hold this boy's future in your hands committee! It's a valuable future. Believe me! Don't destroy...protect it...embrace it. It's gonna make you proud some day...I promise.
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