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Enemy of the State
David Marconi





REYNOLDS: "I know thy works and thy labour and how thou canst not bear them that are evil. And thou hast tried them who say they are apostles and hast found them to be liars". Revelations II.

HAMERSLEY: What the hell does it mean?

REYNOLDS: It means who's side are you on?





L.T.: Last night, Larry Spinks, he works the Steel Press, he goes to a bar with his wife Rosalie to have a glass of chianti 'cause it's his birthday, and these two guys, these Guido mother-fuckers, they jump him when he goes to the bathroom.

DEAN: L.T., in this office I'd prefer you say Italian-Americans.





RACHEL: How's the trout?

DEAN: It tastes like fish.

RACHEL: It is fish.

DEAN: I mean it tastes like every other fish I've ever had. Every fish tastes the same.





SAUNDERS: I'm expecting a favorable ruling this afternoon on the evidenciary motion, but I could use some more manpower with the interrogatories.

SILVERBERG: Mr. Dean, would you care to give Ms. Saunders a hand with the interrogatories.

DEAN: God knows I would, sir, but I have a previous engagement this evening.

SILVERBERG: And may I ask what could possibly be more important than Fawell Oil v. U.S. Environmental Agency?

DEAN: I have to go lingerie shopping.

STILWELL: Lingerie shopping?

DEAN: A Christmas present for my wife.

SILVERBERG: Go to Harrison's. They've got models that'll try the garments on for you.

SAUNDERS: Bobby, this is a 40 million dollar client. I really need some help tonight.

DEAN: Diane, maybe you didn't hear Mr. Silverberg. They've got models that'll try on the garments. Thank you, sir.

SILVERBERG: Merry Christmas, son.





WOMAN'S VOICE: May I help you?

DEAN: Hm?!

SALES CLERK: Do you see anything you like?

DEAN: I'm married.

SALES CLERK: That's fine.

DEAN: I'm married to my wife...of several years...and I'd like to buy...as a Christmas present...

SALES CLERK: You'd like to buy your wife some lingerie as a Christmas gift.

DEAN: Yes. I have her permission.

SALES CLERK: It's okay. I think it's a wonderful gift.

DEAN: Can you help me?

SALES CLERK: How 'bout Christian Dior?

DEAN: Is that good?

SALES CLERK: Very good.

DEAN: I don't know anything about this. Well, I mean, I know a little about--from a certain perspective. My point is, I don't want to do anything foolish.

SALES CLERK: It's a little late for that.

DEAN: I'll say.

SALES CLERK: What size?

DEAN: Pardon?

SALES CLERK: What size?

DEAN: Eight. Size eight.

SALES CLERK: I'll be right back.

DEAN: Thanks.

SALES CLERK: Remain calm.

DEAN: Okay.





ERIC: Are those my Christmas presents?

DEAN: Some of 'em.

ERIC: Can I open 'em up?

DEAN: Sure, go ahead.

ERIC: Really?

DEAN: In your dreams.

ERIC: Dad!

DEAN: You staying for dinner?

DYLAN: Is it okay?

DEAN: You got any money?





DEAN: Something bad happened tonight.

STACY: What?

DEAN: I saw a man die.

STACY: What do you mean?

DEAN: In front of Harrison's, he got hit by a bus. I knew him. The firm did some pro bono work for his organization a few years back.

STACY: I'm sorry.

DEAN: The thing is, when I saw him, it seemed like he wanted to tell me... he was upset about something and he said... Doesn't matter now. I'm gonna wash up.

STACY: What'd you buy at Harrison's?

DEAN: A toaster.





DEAN: They took the espresso machine. The espresso machine, Jerry! Which makes sense, you know, because the crooks probably wanted to make themselves a latte before fencing the stereo.

JERRY: Did they take your clothes?

DEAN: No.

JERRY: You've got a bunch of Armani suits, they didn't take 'em?

DEAN: No.

JERRY: Usually they take clothes.

DEAN: Why don't you give 'em a call.

JERRY: What about jewelry?

DEAN: They didn't take the jewelry. They took the computers. They took the big-screen TV, they took my blender.

JERRY: The blender?

DEAN: I love my blender.

JERRY: They didn't take the silverware?

DEAN: No, but they took my blender.





MORELOS: Mr. Zavitz was in trouble.

DEAN: What kind of trouble.

MORELOS: You tell me.

DEAN: I can't.

MORELOS: Are you invoking attorney/client privilege.

DEAN: I'm not his attorney.

MORELOS: Than why can't you tell me.

DEAN: Because I don't know.





MORELOS: I'm just trying to determine if Mr. Zavitz was involved in something more than a simple bus accident.

DEAN: Than why don't you talk to the bus driver?

MORELOS: Why so edgy, Mr. Dean?

DEAN: Somebody took my blender.





SILVERBERG: I got a call this morning from a source I trust. The Post is running a lead this afternoon about your involvement in the Bellmoth investigation.

DEAN: I don't under--

BLAKE: We've also been informed that the Grand Jury is going to call for an investigation into your affairs.

DEAN: Why?

BLAKE: They want to hold you in Contempt for ethics violations.

SILVERBERG: They claim you helped create a shell company for Sam Vollotti in Zurich and that through your continuing relationship, the Gambino family's been able to exert influence and provide false witnesses to discredit our case.

DEAN: Oh, well, that's true.

BLAKE: It is?

DEAN: Except for the part about my setting up a company in Zurich and knowing anyone named Sam Vollotti and having any relationship whatsoever with the Gambino family.





RACHEL: Fuck you. When you needed information, I got it. You didn't care how.

DEAN: I did care how.

RACHEL: This conversation's over.

DEAN: What're you gonna do, Rachel? You gonna sit in a bar in Baltimore? You want your job back? You want a life?

RACHEL: I don't have a life, Bobby. I'm in love with a married man.

DEAN: I'm sorry about that.

RACHEL: What makes you think it's you?

DEAN: It's not me?

RACHEL: You're a moron, you know that?





BRILL: You drive a black BMW, license plate SRK1339?

DEAN: Yeah.

BRILL: I clipped this from your wheel well just before they towed your car away.

DEAN: What is that?

BRILL: It's a SAT-tracker.

DEAN: I don't know what that means.

BRILL: Like a LowJack, but two generations ahead of what the police use. It pulses at 230 Giga-Hertz.

DEAN: I don't know what that means.

BRILL: 230 Giga-Hertz. They use that band for the Aquacade Spy-SAT uplinks.

DEAN: I don't know what that means.

BRILL: It means the NSA can read the time off your wristwatch.





DEAN: Has anyone been by? Police? FBI?

STACY: Just reporters.

DEAN: I wish you'd gone to your parents like I asked you.

STACY: This is my house. Nobody's kicking me out of my house. I picked those drapes.

DEAN: I don't think anybody wants the drapes, Stacy, I think the drapes are okay.





ERIC: Dad!

DEAN: Do I know you?

ERIC: Where've you been?

DEAN: Having an adventure. I can't tell you about it right now, but I'll tell you about it soon.

ERIC: Are you and mom getting a divorce?

DEAN: No. We're never getting a divorce. We were having a fight. It happens sometimes.

ERIC: Who won the fight?

DEAN: Men don't win fights with women, son, I'll tell you about that sometime, too.





BRILL: Did you call anyone?

DEAN: What do you mean?

BRILL: I mean did you call anyone.

DEAN: Look, my wife is understandably--

BRILL: Jesus!

DEAN: I called my wife!

BRILL: What'd I tell you?

DEAN: I didn't use my name.

BRILL: What'd I tell you?

DEAN: I called from a payphone!

BRILL: What'd I tell you?

DEAN: You told me no calls.

BRILL: I told you no calls.

DEAN: Sorry.

BRILL: You don't get it. They go through: your phone records. They fuckin' monitor everyone you called in the: last--

DEAN: I didn't use my name.

BRILL: Oh, I'll bet that threw 'em off the scent. I sure hope you covered the mouthpiece with a handkerchief and used a funny voice!





BRILL: The NSA's been in bed with the entire tele-communications industry since the 40's. They've infected everything: Banks, computers, phones, mail, name it. The more technology we buy into, the easier it is keeping tabs on us. It's a brave new world. At least it better be.

DEAN: How do you know so much?

BRILL: None of your business.

DEAN: You used to work for 'em, didn't you?

BRILL: I was a traffic analyst. I intercepted phone calls.

DEAN: How'd you get around the tap orders?

BRILL: They can tap anything as along as it's an airwave intercept. Cellulars and pagers your kid can do. Hard-line calls we'd pick off the relays as they were being fed into ground cables or fired up to the SATs. We'd suck in everything. All foreign, most domestic. Domestic was my group. Druggies, radicals, loud-mouths. Anyone we wanted.

DEAN: How'd you have the manpower to--

BRILL: Meade has 18 underground acres of computers. They scan every phonecall for target words like "bomb" or "President". We red-flag phone numbers or voice prints...whatever we wanted. When the computers found something, it was bounced to comparative analysis.

DEAN: Jesus.

BRILL: That was twenty years ago. With digital? They can suck a salt grain off a beach.





ALBERT: I've lived through the dark ages of Hoover's Watch-List and McCarthy's Witch Hunts - men who used moral crusades, fired by fear, to lay waste to our freedoms. Our intelligence communities presently monitor our phones, computers, financial transactions, medical histories...all this and more. Some of you may say, "Fine. I'm not a criminal and I have nothing to hide." Well God forbid we ever edge to tyranny. God forbid George Orwell's version of America becomes a reality. We are that close.



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