V:
[Disguised as William Rookwood, meeting with Inspector Finch] Our story begins, as these stories often do, with a young up-and-coming politician. He's a deeply religious man and a member of the conservative party. He is completely single-minded convictions and has no regard for the political process. Eventually, his party launches a special project in the name of 'national security'. At first, it is believed to be a search for biological weapons and it is pursued regardless of its cost. However, the true goal of the project is power, complete and total hegemonic domination. The project, however, ends violently... but the efforts of those involved are not in vain, for a new ability to wage war is born from the blood of one of their victims. Imagine a virus - the most terrifying virus you can, and then imagine that you and you alone have the cure. But if your ultimate goal is power, how best to use such a weapon? It is at this point in our story that along comes a spider. He is a man seemingly without a conscience; for whom the ends always justify the means and it is he who suggests that their target should not be an enemy of the country but rather the country itself. Three targets are chosen to maximize the effect of the attack: a school, a tube station, and a water-treatment plant. Several hundred die within the first few weeks. Until at last the true goal comes into view. Before the St. Mary's crisis, no one would have predicted the outcome of the elections. No one. But after the election, lo and behold, a miracle. Some believed that it was the work of God himself, but it was a pharmaceutical company controlled by certain party members made them all obscenely rich. But the true genius of the plan was the fear. A year later, several extremeists are tried, found guilty, and executed while a memorial is builterected to canonize their victims. Fear became the ultimate tool of this government. And through it our politician was ultimately appointed to the newly created position of High Chancellor. The rest, as they say, is history.
Finch:
Can you prove any of this?
V:
Why do you think I'm still alive?
Finch:
Right. We'd like to take you into protective custody, Mr. Rookwood.
V:
Oh, I'm sure you would. But if you want that recording, you'll do what I tell you to do. Put Creedy under 24 hour surveillance. When I feel safe that he can't pick his nose without you knowing, I'll contact you again. Until then, cheerio.
Finch:
Rookwood. Why didn't you come forward earlier? What were you waiting for?
V:
For you, Inspector. I needed you.
Salim Abu Aziz:
[his message to the United States] You have murdered our women, and our children, and bombed our cities from afar, like cowards, and you dare to call "us" terrorists?Now, we have the ability to strike back at our enemies. Unless "you" "America" pull all military forces out of the Persian gulf area, immediately, and forever, Crimson Jihad will rain fire on one major U.S. city each week, until our demands are met. First, we will detonate one nuclear weapon on this uninhabited island as a demonstration of our power. But, if these demands are not met, Crimison Jihad will rain fire on one major U.S. city each week.
Conrad 'Connie' Brean:
Would you go to war to do that?
CIA Agent Mr. Young:
I have.
Conrad 'Connie' Brean:
Well, I have, too. Would you do it again...? Isn't that why you're here? I guess so. And if you go to war again, who is it going to be against? Your "ability to fight a Two-ocean War" against who? Sweden and Togo? Who you sitting here to Go To War Against? That time has passed. It's passed. It's over. The war of the future is nuclear terrorism. It is and it will be against a small group of dissidents who, unbeknownst, perhaps, to their own governments, have blah blah blah. And to go to that war, you've got to be prepared. You have to be alert, and the public has to be alert. Cause that is the war of the future, and if you're not gearing up, to fight that war, eventually the axe will fall. And you're gonna be out in the street. And you can call this a "drill," or you can call it "job security," or you can call it anything you like. But I got one for you: you said, "Go to war to protect your Way of Life," well, Chuck, this is your way of life. Isn't it? And if there ain't no war, then you, my friend, can go home and prematurely take up golf. Because there ain't no war but ours.
Frank:
Kathy? K, is that you?
Kathy:
[on the phone with her brother Frank, She is very upset] Yeah.
Frank:
Mom said you sounded strange on the phone. What's going on?
Kathy:
I need help. I really need some help.
Frank:
What's wrong?
Kathy:
Do you think you could just come out here? Please?
Frank:
K, I'm sorry. I just got a real shit storm here. We just got the new models in, there's inventory... [to co-worker]
Frank:
I'll be right there. Just give me a second here.
Kathy:
I just feel lost, Frankie. You know? I just, um... I just feel lost.
Frank:
Look, Ma and the aunts will be out there on the 18th. They can help you, bring you back, straighten you out. Okay? I'm sorry, K, but I gotta go. Okay?
Kathy:
Okay... Yeah.
Frank:
All right. Chin up, baby sister. I'll call you later.
Kathy:
Okay. Hey, don't tell Mom, all right? [clicks, dial tone]
Kathy:
...Okay, bye. [Crying and whimpering in frustration over her inability to explain to her brother why she needs help]
Kathy:
FUCK!
Philosophy Professor:
The reason why I refuse to take existentialism as just another French fashion or historical curiosity is that I think it has something very important to offer us... I'm afraid were losing the real virtues of living life passionately in the sense of taking responsibility for who you are the ability to make something of yourself and feel good about life. Existentialism is often discussed as if it were a philosophy of despair, but I think the truth is just the opposite. Sartre, once interviewed, said he never felt once minute of despair in his life. One thing that comes out from reading these guys is not a sense of anguish about life so much as a real kind of exuberance, of feeling on top of it, its like your life is yours to create. Ive read the post modernists with some interest, even admiration, but when I read them I always have this awful nagging feeling that something absolutely essential is getting left out. The more you talk about a person as a social construction or as a confluence of forces or as being fragmented of marginalised, what you do is you open up a whole new world of excuses. And when sartre talks about responsibilty, he's not talking about something abstract. He's not taling about the kind of self or souls that theologians would talk about. Hes talking about you and me talking, making descisions, doing things, and taking the consequences. It might be true that there are six billion people in this world, and counting, but nevertheless -what you do makes a difference. It makes a difference, first of all, in material terms, to other people, and it sets an example. In short, I think the message here is that we shouuld never write ourselves off or see eachother as a victim of various forces. It's always our descision who we are.
[John is holding a gun to his head]
Terminator:
You cannot self-terminate.
John Connor:
No, you can't. I can do anything I want. I'm a human being, not some god-damn robot.
Terminator:
[correcting him] Cybernetic organism.
John Connor:
Whatever! Either we go, and save her Dad, or so much for the Great John Conner. Because your future, my destiny, I want no part in it, I never did.
Terminator:
Based on your pupil dilation, skin temperature, and motor functions, I calculate an 83% probability that you will not pull the trigger.
Freck:
What do you think about the New Path?
Barris:
While it doesn't matter what I think, I kinda have to tip my hat to any entity that can bring so much integrity to evil. I mean, imagine this: a seemingly voluntary, privatized gulag which has managed to eliminate the meddling middlemen of public accountability and free will and wrap it up in a little bow and give it to the public like a gift. I mean, come on this is... [he makes exploding sounds and gestures]
Barris:
... this is awe-inspiring stuff.
Freck:
I heard you have to go cold turkey.
Barris:
Cold turkey doesn't even apply to Substance D. Unlike the legacy of inherited predisposition to addictive behaviors or substances, this needs no genetic assistance. There's no weekend warriors on the D. You're either on it... or you haven't tried it.
Freck:
Well, I like it.
Barris:
Yeah. How many caps do you take per day?
Freck:
Hmmm... very difficult to determine. But not that many.
Barris:
Well, like the old-school pharmacopoeia, a tolerance develops, you know. These visions of bugs, they're just garden-variety psychosis, but a clear indication that you've hurdled over the initial fun and euphoric phase and passed on... to the next phase. News from the guinea pig grapevine suggests that whatever it is, we won't know until it's way too late, you see? You see that we're all canaries in the coal mine on this one?
Freck:
Mm. I do think I have another source. That Donna chick.
Barris:
Bob's girl?
Freck:
Yeah.
Barris:
Yeah, "his girl," although I know for a fact he never gets in her pants.
Freck:
Really?
Barris:
Yeah.
Freck:
But he... talks like he does.
Barris:
Oh, yeah. That's Bob Arctor. He talks like he does many things. It's not the same, my friend, it's not the same thing. Donna has an aversion to bodily contact. I mean, junkies lose their interest in sex, you realize, due to organs swelling up from vasoconstriction. And I have observed in her an inordinate failure of sexual arousal not just toward Bob Arctor, but to... other males as well.
Freck:
I can't believe she doesn't put out.
Barris:
Well, she would... if she were handled right. For instance, I could show you how to sleep with her for less than three dollars.
Freck:
I don't wanna sleep with her. I wanna buy from her.
Barris:
Donna does coke, all right?
Freck:
Three dollars doesn't get you a line of coke.
Barris:
Ah-ah. That's where you're wrong, pal.
Col. Porter E. Alexander:
We've been firing for a good while now, sir. It's apparent now that the Federals nor we will gain a clear advantage in this business. If we continue to expel our ammunition at this rate, we might endanger our ability to support the advance.
Lt. Gen. James Longstreet:
Did you not have enough ordinance when this was begun?
Col. Porter E. Alexander:
Federal fire compelled us to move the artillery train farther to the rear, sir. It's taken us longer to refill the capsules. Sir, we must slow down our fire now, or we will have to cut back on the guns sent in to support the infantry.
Lt. Gen. James Longstreet:
Damn! I'm going to have to order general Picket to hault his attack until these guns can be replaced!
Col. Porter Alexander:
Sir, the trains have little ammunition, it would take an hour to replace it. In the meantime, the enemy would improve on the time. The longer we delay, the more time the Federals have to strengthen their own line. And even if we recovered more supplies from the ordinance train, how much more damage could we inflict on them than they on us? They're bringing in fresh batteries as quickly as they drive them off!
Lt. Gen. James Longstreet:
Just get some more ammunition and keep it hot! I cannot send in Picket's division or the others, until we clear some of those guns off that ridge!
