favourite movie rants

[HoldingFolding]

One more for the rodeo:

Ray: She took his dinner in to him once. Me mum, in the pub, and plonked it in front of him on a tray. Knife and fork, salt and pepper. He said, "What's that?" She said, "It's your dinner. I thought you might be hungry. You ain't eaten for three [censored] days. You live in here, you might as well [censored] eat in here." It's funny. He didn't like that, did he? Mugged him up in front of his mates. Thought more of them [censored] than he did us. Lovely. Yeah. She got a clump over that. Well, she would, wouldn't she? He was always pissed in there, weren't he? You know? We go in the pub to get our living, you know? That's where we do our business. He'd be there spunking out while we're sitting at home without a dinar, you know, thank you. And he'd promise things. You know? Promise to take us places, you know? Never did. Never took us anywhere. And when he did bother to come home he'd sit in that [censored] chair, doss off with his tray in his lap. And I'd just stand there looking at him. I'd look in his face, and my mother'd go upstairs, and I'd say, "Say, Mum, ain't Daddy coming to bed?" And she'd say, "No. No, he's all right, son. He'll come up when he wakes up." He's gotta wake up to go to bed! Now, I'd stand there looking at this [censored] old man, you know, my dad, you know, in that chair, that horrible [censored] chair with the shiny, worn-out arms. I should've burnt the [censored] thing. By the end he was hemorrhaging from both ends, you know? I used to hear him in the morning hanging on to the kharzi. It was lovely. Never stopped him going to the pub, though. No, he was well enough to do that. Now, one day, right, he's staggering across the pub pissed from the night before. He's gone over, crunch, right on his mooey, like a [censored] ironing board. His hooter's around here, his railings all over the [censored] place. Me and me mum had to go the hospital to see him. We walked in. He's laying in bed. He's got tubes up his arms, [censored] up his nose, down the back of his Gregory. He didn't look well. [censored] vodka was keeping him alive. Well, I ain't that interested, so I'm having a little mooch about, you know. I looked above his bed, and there's this sign, right, with some weird writing on it. I couldn't read too well at the time. I said to my mum, "Mum, what's that say? You know, that sign above Daddy's head." All right? She said, "Nil by mouth." "What's that, a football score?" One-nil, three-nil, two-nil, a geezer called [censored] Nil. Yeah. I said, "Well, what's it mean?" She said, "It means..."
Mark: It means nothing to eat.
Ray: Yeah, nothing down the...
[points into his mouth]
Mark: Nothing down the... Yeah.
Ray: Yeah, all right. I remembered that day, because I could've put that on his [censored] tombstone, you know? Because I don't remember one kiss, you know, one cuddle. Nothing. I mean, plenty went down, not a lot came out, you know, nothing that was any [censored] good. And I'd look at this man that I call Dad, you know? My father, I knew him as Dad. He was my [censored] dad but he weren't like other kids' dads, you know? It was as if the word itself were enough, and it ain't.
Mark: That ain't when he died though, is it?
Ray: No. He lived another ten years, slippery old [censored]. He died one afternoon in that [censored] armchair. About right. I went around to see him, you know, when he was plotted up at me mother's.
Mark: Hatcham Road?
Ray: Yeah, Hatcham Road. He was upstairs in that front bedroom. Laid out.
Mark: Free.
Ray: Yeah. Yeah. I've gone up there, gone in. I'm sitting on the bed looking at him. He's laying there like... Mullered. And it was like he'd shrunk, you know? He was a big man.
Mark: He was a lump.
Ray: Yeah. You should know. You got enough clumps off the [censored]. (sighs) And I just touched him, you know? He was [censored] freezing cold. It frightened the life out of me. I was looking at him, you know? For the first time in my life, I talked to him. I said, "Why didn't you ever love me?"

[ilya]

[ QUOTE ]
[Gal is sunbathing by poolside]
Oh, yeah. Bloody hell. I'm sweating in here. Roasting. Boiling. Baking. Sweltering. It's like a sauna. Furnace. You can fry an egg on my stomach. Ohh, who wouldn't lap this up? It's ridiculous. Tremendous. Fantastic. Fan-dabby-dozy-tastic. People say, "Don't you miss it, Gal?" I say, "What, England? Nah. [censored] place. It's a dump. Don't make me laugh. Grey, grimy, sooty. What a [censored] hole. What a toilet. Every [censored] with a long face shuffling about, moaning, all worried. No thanks, not for me." They say, "What's it like, then, Spain?" And I'll say, "It's hot. Hot. Oh, it's [censored] hot. Too hot? Not for me, I love it."

Juxtaposed with:

Shut up, [censored]. You louse. You got some [censored]' neck ain't you. Retired? [censored] off, you're revolting. Look at your suntan, it's leather, it's like leather man, your skin. We could make a [censored] suitcase out of you. Like a crocodile, fat crocodile, fat bastard. You look like [censored] Idi Amin, you know what I mean? Stay here? You should be ashamed of yourself. Who do you think you are? King of the castle? Cock of the walk?
[He gut-punches Gal]
Don: What you think this is the wheel of fortune? You think you can make your dough and [censored] off? Leave the table? Thanks Don, see you Don, off to sunny Spain now Don, [censored] off Don. Lying in your pool like a fat blob laughing at me, you think I'm gonna have that? You really think I'm gonna have that, ya ponce. All right, I'll make it easy for you. God knows you're [censored] trying. Are you gonna do the job? It's not a difficult question, are you gonna do the job, yes or no?

[/ QUOTE ]

Great movie. The whole intro/credits sequence is gold.

[MonkeeMan]

I'll go with a mini-rant (if there is such a thing):

"When have I ever, when have I ever let you down before you [censored] rat?"

[jba]

I'm very sorry the government taxes their tips, that's [censored] up. That ain't my fault. It would seem to me that waitresses are one of the many groups the government [censored] in the ass on a regular basis. Look, if you ask me to sign something that says the government shouldn't do that, I'll sign it, put it to a vote, I'll vote for it, but what I won't do is play ball. And as for this non-college [censored] I got two words for that: learn to [censored]' type, 'cause if you're expecting me to help out with the rent you're in for a big [censored]' surprise.

-Mr. Pink

Well, ladies and gentlemen, we're not here to indulge in fantasy, but in political and economic reality. America, America has become a second-rate power. Its trade deficit and its fiscal deficit are at nightmare proportions. Now, in the days of the free market, when our country was a top industrial power, there was accountability to the stockholder. The Carnegies, the Mellons, the men that built this great industrial empire, made sure of it because it was their money at stake. Today, management has no stake in the company!

All together, these men sitting up here [Teldar management] own less than 3 percent of the company. And where does Mr. Cromwell put his million-dollar salary? Not in Teldar stock; he owns less than 1 percent.


You own the company. That's right -- you, the stockholder.


And you are all being royally screwed over by these, these bureaucrats, with their luncheons, their hunting and fishing trips, their corporate jets and golden parachutes.
Teldar Paper, Mr. Cromwell, Teldar Paper has 33 different vice presidents, each earning over 200 thousand dollars a year. Now, I have spent the last two months analyzing what all these guys do, and I still can't figure it out. One thing I do know is that our paper company lost 110 million dollars last year, and I'll bet that half of that was spent in all the paperwork going back and forth between all these vice presidents.

The new law of evolution in corporate America seems to be survival of the unfittest. Well, in my book you either do it right or you get eliminated.

In the last seven deals that I've been involved with, there were 2.5 million stockholders who have made a pretax profit of 12 billion dollars. Thank you.

I am not a destroyer of companies. I am a liberator of them!

The point is, ladies and gentleman, that greed -- for lack of a better word -- is good.

Greed is right.

Greed works.

Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit.

Greed, in all of its forms -- greed for life, for money, for love, knowledge -- has marked the upward surge of mankind.

And greed -- you mark my words -- will not only save Teldar Paper, but that other malfunctioning corporation called the USA.



Thank you very much.

My favorite 2

Pulp Fiction
"Jules: Well I'm a mushroom-cloud-layin' [censored], [censored]! Every time my fingers touch brain I'm SUPERFLY T.N.T, I'm the GUNS OF THE NAVARONE. In fact, what the [censored] am I doin' in the back? You're the [censored] should be on brain detail. We're [censored]' switchin' right now. I'm washin' the windows and you're pickin' up this nigga's skull"

SLC Punk
"Stevo: The Fight: What does it mean and where does it come from? An Essay: Homosapien. A man. He is alone in the universe. A punker. Still a man. He is alone in the universe, but he connects. How? They hit each other. No clearer way to evaluate whether or not you're alive. Now. Complications. A reason to fight. Somebody different. Difference creates dispute. Dispute is a reason to fight. Now, to fight is a reason to feel pain. Life is pain. So to fight with reason is to be alive with reason. Final analysis: To fight, a reason to live. Problems and Contradictions: I am an anarchist. I believe that there should be no rules, only chaos. Fighting appears to be chaos. And when we slam in the pit a show it is. But when we fight for a reason, like rednecks, there's a system, we fight for what we stand for, chaos. Fighting is a structure, fighting is to establish power, power is government and government is not anarchy. Government is war and war is fighting. The circle goes like this: our redneck skirmishes are cheap perversions of conventional warfare. War implies extreme government because wars are fought to enforce rules or ideals, even freedom. But other people ideals forced on someone else, even if it is something like freedom, is still a rule; not anarchy. This contradiction was becoming clear to me in the fall of '85. Even as early as my first party, "Why did I love to fight?" I framed it, but still, I don't understand it. It goes against my beliefs as a true anarchist. But there it was. Competition, fighting, capitalism, government, THE SYSTEM. That's what we did. It's what we always did. Rednecks kicked the [censored] out of punks, punks kicked the [censored] out of mods, mods kicked the [censored] out of skinheads, skinheads took out the heavy metal guys, and the heavy metal guys beat the living [censored] out of new wavers and the new wavers did nothing. What was the point? Final summation? None. "

[surfinillini]

[ QUOTE ]
My favorite 2

Pulp Fiction
"Jules: Well I'm a mushroom-cloud-layin' [censored], [censored]! Every time my fingers touch brain I'm SUPERFLY T.N.T, I'm the GUNS OF THE NAVARONE. In fact, what the [censored] am I doin' in the back? You're the [censored] should be on brain detail. We're [censored]' switchin' right now. I'm washin' the windows and you're pickin' up this nigga's skull"

SLC Punk
"Stevo: The Fight: What does it mean and where does it come from? An Essay: Homosapien. A man. He is alone in the universe. A punker. Still a man. He is alone in the universe, but he connects. How? They hit each other. No clearer way to evaluate whether or not you're alive. Now. Complications. A reason to fight. Somebody different. Difference creates dispute. Dispute is a reason to fight. Now, to fight is a reason to feel pain. Life is pain. So to fight with reason is to be alive with reason. Final analysis: To fight, a reason to live. Problems and Contradictions: I am an anarchist. I believe that there should be no rules, only chaos. Fighting appears to be chaos. And when we slam in the pit a show it is. But when we fight for a reason, like rednecks, there's a system, we fight for what we stand for, chaos. Fighting is a structure, fighting is to establish power, power is government and government is not anarchy. Government is war and war is fighting. The circle goes like this: our redneck skirmishes are cheap perversions of conventional warfare. War implies extreme government because wars are fought to enforce rules or ideals, even freedom. But other people ideals forced on someone else, even if it is something like freedom, is still a rule; not anarchy. This contradiction was becoming clear to me in the fall of '85. Even as early as my first party, "Why did I love to fight?" I framed it, but still, I don't understand it. It goes against my beliefs as a true anarchist. But there it was. Competition, fighting, capitalism, government, THE SYSTEM. That's what we did. It's what we always did. Rednecks kicked the [censored] out of punks, punks kicked the [censored] out of mods, mods kicked the [censored] out of skinheads, skinheads took out the heavy metal guys, and the heavy metal guys beat the living [censored] out of new wavers and the new wavers did nothing. What was the point? Final summation? None. "

[/ QUOTE ]

SLC was a really good movie imho

[Aces McGee]

"Wait, I thought all you did was kill innocent people?"

"Innocent? Is that supposed to be funny? An obese man -- a disgusting man who could barely stand up; a man who, if you saw him on the street, you'd point him out to your friends so they could join you in mocking him; a man who, if you saw him while you were eating, you wouldn't be able to finish your meal. After him, I picked the lawyer, and you both must have been secretly thanking him for that. This is a man who dedicated his life to making money by lying with every breath that he could muster to keep murderers and rapists off the streets --"

"Murderers?"

"A woman --"

"Murderers, John, like yourself."

"A woman! So ugly on the inside that she couldn't bear to go on living if she couldn't be beautiful on the outside. A drug dealer -- a drug dealing pederast, actually! And let's not forget the disease-spreading whore! Only in a world this [censored] could you even try to say these were innocent people and keep a straight face. But that's the point. We see a deadly sin on every street corner, in every home, and we tolerate it. We tolerate it because it's common, it's trivial. We tolerate it morning, noon, and night. Well, not anymore. I'm setting the example. What I've done is going to be puzzled over, and studied, and followed...forever."

-McGee

[ChipWrecked]

Morrie in GoodFellas:


I've been looking all over for you.

Can I talk to you a second?

I masterminded the whole
thing, I'm left with dick.

They be up a creek if not for me.
[censored] him! I want my money.

I want my money.
I've had it up to here.

- [censored] him! I want my money!
- Good. Go tell him.

Now will you keep you mouth shut?

Morrie, you'll get your money.
You just got to stop busting balls.

All right. You hear me?
Everything's going to be fine.

[TiK]

Arthur Kirkland: That man is guilty! that man, there, that man is a slime! he is a *slime*! If he's supposed to go free, then something really wrong is goin' on here!

Judge Rayford: Mr. Kirkland you are out of order!

Arthur Kirkland: You're out of order! You're out of order! The whole trial is out of order! They're out of order! That man, that sick, crazy, depraved man, raped and beat that woman there, and he'd like to do it again! It's just a show! It's a show! It's "Let's Make A Deal"! "Let's Make A Deal"! Hey Frank, you wanna "Make A Deal"? I got an insane judge who likes to beat the [censored] out of women! Whaddya wanna gimme Frank, 3 weeks probation?...You, you sonofabitch, you! You're supposed to STAND for somethin'! You're supposed to protect people! But instead you rape and murder them!...You killed McCullough! You killed him! Hold it! Hold it! I just completed my opening statement!