Brandon @ Case

You Want Entertainment?

I've amassed a few entertaining documents over the years. I'll be looking to those to fill my dead days--days where I know you'd rather read something funny than read about the boringness that was the last 24 hours. Exciting or even above-average occurances in my life will still make it on the blog: that's what most blogs are about, that's how mine started, and that's how my blog has generally been run over the years. (wow, I can say "over the years"...) But until I run out of fun things to talk about which don't involve everyday boringness, I'll let you in on the humor instead.

The following is my favorite monologue in the history of monologues. Granted, I haven't been exposed to many monologues (or is it just that the monologues I am exposed to don't warrant my attention?), but I can still call this my favorite. It's from the movie "Good Will Hunting," (which I thought was pretty sweet, BTW). I've censored it for the public forum.

A little background: Will is the main character. He's played by Matt Damon. He's a genius who works as a janitor @ MIT, and lives in a poor part of Boston called "southie." When he's discovered by an MIT professor, the prof wants him to get counselling, and eventually wants him to get a good job. The first half of this scene takes place in a job interview with an agent from the National Security Agency (you know, the supposedly all-powerful government agency with tons more power and secrecy than the CIA). The scene cuts mid-dialogue to the office of Will's counselor, played by Robin Willams, as if Will were recounting his interview word-for-word. It's genius. And, oh yes. You need to imagine Matt Damon speaking this with a heavy Bostonian accent. That could be the best part of seeing it actually performed on the video. Shalom!

NSA AGENT
We don't like to brag about that, Will. So, the way I see
it, the question isn't Why SHOULD you work for the
NSA? The question is: Why shouldn't you?

WILL
Why shouldn't I work for the NSA? That's a tough one.
But I'll take a shot. Say I'm working at the NSA, and
somebody puts a code on my desk, somethin' no one else
can break. Maybe I take a shot at it and maybe I break
it. And I'm real happy with myself, cus' I did my job
well. But maybe that code was the location of some
rebel army in...

SEAN’S OFFICE

WILL
...North Africa or the Middle East and once they have
that location, they bomb the village where the rebels are
hiding... Fifteen hundred people that I never met, never
had no problem with get killed. Now the politicians are
sayin', "Oh, Send in the marines to secure the area" cus'
they don't give a sh*%. It won't be their kid over there,
gettin' shot. Just like it wasn't them when their number
got called, cus' they were off pullin' a tour in the National
Guard. It'll be some kid from Southie over there takin'
shrapnel in the a@#. He comes back to find that the plant
he used to work at got exported to the country he just
got back from. And the guy who put the shrapnel in his
a*! got his old job, cus' he'll work for fifteen cents a day
and no bathroom breaks. Meanwhile he realizes the only
reason he was over there in the first place was so that
we could install a government that would sell us oil at a
good price. And of course the oil companies used the
little skirmish over there to scare up domestic oil prices.
A cute little ancillary benefit for them but it ain't
helping my buddy at two-fifty a gallon. They're takin'
their sweet time bringin' the oil back, of course, maybe
even took the liberty of hiring an alcoholic skipper who
likes to drink martinis and f@%$n' play slalom with the
icebergs. It ain't too long 'til he hits one, spills the oil
and kills all the sea life in the North Atlantic. So now
my buddy's out of work, he can't afford to drive, so
he's walking to the f!^@n' job interviews, which sucks
because the shrapnel in his a&@ is givin' him chronic
hemorrhoids. And meanwhile he's starvin' cus' every
time he tries to get a bite to eat the only blue plate
special they're servin' is North Atlantic scrod with
Quaker State. So what did I think? I'm holdin' out for
somethin' better. I figure f!!& it, while I'm at it why not
just shoot my buddy, take his job, give it to his sworn
enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby
seal, hit the hash pipe and join the National Guard? I
could be elected President.

SEAN
You feel like you're alone, Will?

WILL
What?