Namesake - Life is Beautiful

Showing posts with label movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label movies. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Amistad



Your honours, I derive much consolation from the fact that my colleague Mr. Baldwin here has argued the case in so able, and so complete a manner as to leave me scarcely anything to say.

However, Why are we here? How is it that a simple, plain property issue should now find itself so ennobled as to be argued before the Supreme Court of the United States of America?

Do we fear the lower courts, which found for us easily, somehow missed the truth, is that it? Or is it rather our great and consuming fear of civil war, that has allowed us to heap symbolism upon a simple case that never asked for it? And now would have us disregard truth, even as it stands before us tall and proud as a mountain.

The truth... in truth, has been driven from this case like a slave. Flogged from court to court, wretched and destitute. And not by any great legal acumen on the part of the opposition, I might add. But through the long, powerful arm of the executive office. This is no mere property case, gentlemen, this is the most important case ever to come before this court, because what it in fact concerns.... is the very nature of man.

Uh, these are, um.... these are transcriptions of letters, written between our secretary of state, John Forsyth, and the Queen of Spain, Isabella the Second. Now, I ask that you accept their perusal as part of your deliberations. I would not touch on them now except to notice a curious phrase which is much repeated. The queen again and again refers to our incompetent courts. Now what, I wonder, would be more to her liking? Huh? A court that finds against the Africans? Well I think not. And here is the fine point of it.

What Her Majesty wants is a court that behaves just like her courts. The courts this 11 year old child plays with in her magical kingdom called Spain. A court that will do what it is told. A court that can be toyed with like a doll. A court, as it happens of which our own president, Martin Van Buren, would be most proud.

This is a publication of the office of the President. Its called “The Executive Review” and I'm sure you all read it. At least I'm sure the President hopes you read it. This is a recent issue, and there's, uh, an article in here written by “a keen mind of the South”, who my former vice – president, John Calhoun, perhaps. Could it be?



Who asserts that “there has never existed a civilized society in which one segment did not thrive upon the labour of another. As far back as one chooses to look to ancient times, to Biblical times, history bears this out. In Eden, where only two were created. Even there, one was pronounced one was subordinate to another. Slavery has always been with us, and is neither sinful nor immoral. Rather as war and antagonism are the natural states of man, so too slavery as natural as it is inevitable.”

Well, gentlemen, I differ with the keen minds of the South, and with our president, who apparently shares their views offering that the natural state of mankind is instead – and I know that this is a controversial idea – is freedom. Is freedom.

And the proof is the length to which a man, woman or child will go to regain it, once taken. He will break loose his chains, He will...decimate his enemies. He will try and try and try, against all odds, against all prejudices, to get home.

Cinque would you stand up, if you would so everyone can see you.

This man is black, we can all see that. But can we also see as easily that which is equally true? That he is the only true hero in this room. Now if he were white, he wouldn't be standing here before this court fighting for his life. If he were white and his enslavers were British, he wouldn't be able to stand, so heavy the weight of the medals and honours we would bestow upon him. Songs would be written about him. The great authors of our times would fill books about him. His story would be told, and retold, in our classrooms. Our children, because we would make sure of it, would know his name as well as they know Patrick Henry's.

Yet, if the South is right, what are we to do with that embarrassing, annoying document. “The Declaration of Independence”? What of its conceits? “All men created equal,” “inalienable rights.” “ life, liberty,” and so on and so forth. What on earth are we to do with this? I have a modest suggestion.



(rips “The Executive Review” apart).

The other night I was talking with my friend Cinque, he was over at my place and we were at the green house together. He was explaining to me how when a member of the Mende that's his people. How when a member of the Mende encounters a situation where there appears no hope at all, he invokes his ancestors.

Tradition. The Mende believe that if one can summon the spirit of their ancestors, then they have never left. And the wisdom and strength they fathered and inspired will come to his aid.

James Madison. Alexander Hamilton. Benjamin Franklin. Thomas Jefferson. George Washington. John Adams.

We have long resisted asking you for guidance. Perhaps we have feared in doing so, we might acknowledge that our individuality, which we so, so revere, is not entirely our own. Perhaps we feared an... an appeal to you might be taken for weakness. But we have come to understand, finally, that this is not so. We understand now. We've been made to understand and to embrace the understanding that who we are, is who we were.



We desperately need your strength and wisdom, to triumph over our fears, our prejudices, ourselves. Give us the courage to do what is right. And if it means civil war, then let it come. And when it does, may it be, finally, the last battle of the American Revolution.

That's all I have to say.


- John Quincy Adams.



Sunday, September 26, 2010

The Architect


Hello, Neo

Who are you?

I am the Architect. I created the Matrix. I've been waiting for you.You have many questions. Though the process has altered your consciousness, you remain irrevocably human. Ergo, some of my answers you will understand and some you will not. Concordantly, while your first question may be the most pertinent, you may or may not realize it is also the most irrelevant

Why am I here?


Your life is the sum of a remainder of an unbalanced equation inherent to the programming of the Matrix.You are the eventuality of an anomaly, which despite my sincerest efforts I've been unable to eliminate from what is otherwise a harmony of mathematical precision. While it remains a burden assiduously avoided, it is not unexpected and thus not beyond a measure of control, which has led you, inexorably... here

You haven't answered my question

Quite right. Interesting. That was quicker than the others

<Others? How many? What others?>

The Matrix is older than you know. I prefer counting from the emergence of one intergral anomaly to the emergence of the next. In which case, this is the sixth version

<Five before me? He's lying. Bullshit>
There are only two possible explanations. Either no one told me... or no one knows

Precisely. As you are undoubtedly gathering, the anomaly is systemic, creating fluctuations in even the most simplistic equations

<You can't control me! I'm gonna smash you to bits! I'm gonna fucking kill you! You can't make me do anything. You old, white prick!>
Choice. The problem is choice

The first Matrix I designed was quite naturally perfect, it was a work of art. Flawless, sublime. A triumph equaled only by its monumental failure. The inevitability of its doom is apparent to me now as a consequence of the imperfection inherent in every human being.Thus, I redesigned it based on your history, to more accurately reflect the varying grotesqueries of your nature. However, I was again frustrated by failure. I have since come to understand that the answer eluded me because it required a lesser mind. Or perhaps, a mind less bound by the parameters of perfection. Thus, the answer was stumbled upon by another, intuitive program initially created to investigate certain aspects of the human psyche. If I am the father of the Matrix, she would undoubtedly be its mother

The Oracle

Please. As I was saying, she stumbled upon a solution whereby nearly ninety nine percent of test subjects accepted the program, as long as they were given a choice, even if they were only aware of the choice at a near unconscious level. While this answer functioned, it was obviously fundamentally flawed, thus creating the otherwise contradictory systemic anomaly, that if left unchecked, might threaten the system itself. Ergo, those that refused the program, while a minority, if unchecked would constitute an escalating probability of disaster

This is about Zion

You are here because Zion is about to be destroyed. It's every living inhabitant terminated, its entire existence eradicated

Bullshit
<Bullshit>

Denial is the most predictable of all human responses. But rest assured, this will be the sixth time we have destroyed it, and we have become exceedingly efficient at it. The function of the One is now to return to the source, allowing a temporary dissemination of the code you carry reinserting the prime program. After which you will be required to select from the Matrix twenty three individuals, sixteen female, seven male, to rebuild Zion. Failure to comply with this process will result in a cataclysmic system crash killing everyone connected to the Matrix which coupled with the extermination of Zion will ultimately result in the extinction of the entire human race

You won't let it happen. You can't. You need human beings to survive


There are levels of survival we are prepared to accept. However the relevant issue is whether or not you are ready to accept the responsibility for the death of every human being in this world. It is interesting reading your reactions. Your five predecessors were, by design, based on a similar predication, a contingent affirmation that was meant to create a profound attachment to the rest of your species, facilitating the function of the One. While the others experience this in a general way, your experience is far more specific. Vis-a-vis love

Trinity!

Apropos, she entered the Matrix to save your life at the cost of her own

No

Which brings us at last to the moment of truth, wherein the fundamental flaw is ultimately expressed and the anomaly revealed as both beginning and end. There are two doors. The doors to your right leads to the source and the salvation of Zion. The door to your left leads back to the Matrix, to her and the end of your species. As you adequately put, the problem is choice. But we already know what you are going to do, don't we? Already I can see the chain reaction, the chemical precursors that signal the onset of an emotion designed specifically to overwhelm logic and reason. An emotion that is already blinding you from the simple and obvious truth. She is going to die and there is nothing you can do to stop it. Hope. It is the quintessential human delusion, simultaneously the source of your greatest strength and your greatest weakness

If I were you, I would hope that we don't meet again

We won't

Friday, September 24, 2010

Gossip



A women was gossiping with a friend about a men she hardly knew. I know none of you have ever done this. That night she had a dream. A great hand appeared over her and pointed down at her. She was immediately seized with an overwhelming sense of guilt. The next day she went to confession. She got the old parish priest, Father O'Rourke. She told him the whole thing.
"Is gossiping a sin?" she asked the old man.
"Was that the hand of God Almighty pointing a finger at me? Should I be asking your absolution, Father?"
"Tell me, have I done something wrong?"

"Yes" Father O'Rourke answered her.
"Yes, you ignorant, badly brought up female. You have borne false witness against your neighbor.You have played fast and loose with his reputation and you should be heartily ashamed!"

So the women said she was sorry and asked for forgiveness

"Not so fast," says O'Rourke
"I want you to go home. Take a pillow up on your roof, cut it open with a knife, and return here to me."

So the women went home, took a pillow off her bed, a knife from the drawer, went up the fire escape to her roof and stabbed the pillow.
Then she went back to the old parish priest an instructed.

"Did you gut the pillow with a knife?" he says.

"Yes, Father."

"And what was the result?"

"Feathers," she said.

"Feathers," he repeated.

"Feathers everwhere, Father"

"Now, I want you to go back and gather up every last feather that flew out on the wind"

"Well." she said, "it can't be done. I don't know where they went. The wind took them all over".
"And that," said Father O'Rourke, "is GOSSIP!"