Category Archives: Diverse

Whooaa – Scent of a woman

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 going gets tough, 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 bough 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.

I found the transcript here

La inceperea zilei de munca

De recitat solemn la inceperea zilei de munca:

Iubesc biroul meu fără lumină!
Mă simt în el ca vulpea-n vizuină!
Iubesc mobila gri, plină de praf,
Dulapuri burdusite, hârtii vraf.
Concediul nu-l iubesc defel !
Nici nu mai vreau s-aud de el!
Nu trebuie să dorm!
Nu vreau să am odihnă!
De nu muncesc, deloc eu nu am tihnă !
De munca mea sunt fericit,
Nimic atâta-n viată n-am iubit !
Iubesc computerul fereastră
Cu scăfârlia lui albastră.
Iubesc sedintele mai lungi
Când am în creier cifre, dungi.
Iubesc, vă spun acu’ din nou,
Să stau o viată la birou!
Îmi place munca! As munci,
Mai mult în fiecare zi.
Nu vreau salariu! Nu vreau stimă!
Mi-ajunge critica drept primă!

It won’t be Cheerios

A 6-year-old and a 4-year-old are upstairs in their bedroom.
– “You know what?” says the 6-year-old,
– “I think it’s about time we start cussing.”
The 4-year-old nods his head in approval. The 6-year-old continues.
– “When we go downstairs for breakfast I’m going to say hell and you say ass.”
– “OK!” The 4 year old agrees with enthusiasm.
Their mother walks into the kitchen and asks the 6-year-old what he wants for breakfast.
– “Aw hell, Mom, I guess I’ll have some Cheerios.”
WHACK! He flies out of his chair, tumbles across the kitchen floor, gets up, and runs upstairs crying his eyes out, with his mother in hot pursuit, slapping his rear every step. The mom locks him in his room and shouts
– “You can just stay there till I let you out!”
She then comes back downstairs, looks at the 4-year-old, and asks with a stern voice,
– “And what do YOU want for breakfast young man?
“I don’t know,” he blubbers, “But you can bet your ass it won’t be Cheerios!”