CHUCKIE
well, frankly I think the class was rather elementary.
CLARK
Elementary? Oh, I don't doubt that it
was. I remember that class, it was
just between recess and lunch.
SKYLER
Clark why don’t you go away!
CHUCKIE
All right, are we gonna have a problem?
CLARK
no no no There's no problem. I was just hoping
you might give me some insight into
the evolution of the market economy in
the southern colonies. My contention is
that prior to the Revolutionary War
the economic modalities especially in
the southern colonies could most aptly
be characterized as agrarian pre-
capitalist and...
Will, who at this point has migrated to Chuckie's side and is
completely fed-up, includes himself in the conversation.
WILL
Of course that's your contention.
Hang on a second
You're a first year grad student.
You just got finished reading some Marxian
historian, Pete Garrison prob'ly, and
you’re going to be convinced of that
until next month when you get to James
Lemon, then you’re going to be talking about how the economies of Vir virginia and Pennsylvania were
entrepreneurial and capitalist way back in
1740. That’s gonna last until next year
you gonna be in here regurgitating Gordon Wood talking about you know the Pre-revolutionary utopia and the
capital-forming effects of military
mobilization.
CLARK
(taken aback)
Well, as a matter of fact, I won't,
because Wood drastically underestimates
the impact of--
WILL
--"Wood drastically underestimates the
impact of social distinctions predicated
upon wealth, especially inherited
wealth..." You got that from Victors "Work in
Essex County," Page 98, right? Yeah I read that too.
Are you gonna
plagiarize the whole thing for us or do
you have any thoughts of your own on
this matter? Or do you, is that your thing, you comin’to a bar and read some skill passes and then pretend that you you point it off as your own idea just to impress some girls and embarrass my friend?
Clark is stunned.
WILL (cont'd)
see The sad thing about a guy like you is in about 50 years you’re gonna start doin' some thinkin' on
your own and you gonna come up with the
Fact that there are only two certainties
In life.
One, don't do that. and two—you dropped
a hundred and fifty grand on a
fucking education you coulda' got for a
dollar fifty in late charges at the
Public Library.
Will catches Skylar's eye.
CLARK
But I will have a degree, and you'll
be serving my kids fries at a drive
through on our way to a skiing trip.
WILL
(smiles)
Maybe. But at least I won't be unoriginal
(beat)
And if you got a problem with that, I guess we can step outside and deal with it that way.
WILL
There is a lengthy legal precedent, Your Honor, going back to 1789, whereby a defendent can claim self-defense against an agent of the government if that act is deemed to be a defense against tyranny, a defense of liberty--
The Judge interrupts to address the prosecutor.
WILL
Henry Ward Beecher in
Proverbs From Plymouth Pulpit back in 1887, that "Every American citizen is by birth, a sworn officer of the state. Every man is a policeman." As for the other officers, even William Congrave said; "he that first cries out 'stop thief' is 'oft he that has stolen the treasure."
PROSECUTOR
Your Honor--
Will cranks it up.
WILL
(to Prosecutor)
I am afforded the right to speak in my own defense by our constitution, Sir.
The same document which guarantees my right to liberty. "Liberty," in case
you've forgotten, is "the soul's right to breathe, and when it cannot take a
long breath laws are girded too tight. Without liberty, man is a syncope."
(beat, to Judge)
Ibid. Your Honor.
PROSECUTOR
Man is a what?
The Judge interrupts.
JUDGE MALONE
Son,
(a beat)
My turn.
The Judge opens Will's CASE HISTORY.
JUDGE MALONE (cont'd)
(reading)
June, '93, assault, Sept. '93
assault...Grand theft auto February
'94.
A beat, the Judge takes particular notice.
JUDGE MALONE (cont'd)
Where, appearantly, you defended yourself and had the case thrown out by citing
"free property rights of horse and
carriage" from 1798...
Lambeau has to smile, impressed. The Judge shakes his head.
JUDGE MALONE (cont'd)
March, '94 public drunkenness, public
nudity, assault. 10/94 mayhem.
November '94, assault. Jan. '95
impersonating a police officer, mayhem, theft, resisting-- overturned--
WILL (cont'd)
Hey, Skylar?
INT. SKYLAR'S DORM -- DAY
SKYLAR
Yeah?
WILL
It's Will, the really funny good looking guy you met at the bar?
SKYLAR
I'm sorry, I don't recall meeting anyone who fits that description.
WILL
Okay, you got me. It's the ugly, obnoxious, toothless loser who got drunk and wouldn't leave you alone all night.
SKYLAR
Oh Will! I was wondering when you'd call.
Say I'm working at the N.S.A. Somebody
puts a code on my desk, something no one else can break. maybe I take a shot at it and maybe I break it. And I'm real happy with myself, 'cause I did my job well. But maybe that code was the
location of some rebel army in North
Africa or the Middle East. 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.
(rapid fire)
Now the politicians are sayin' "oh send in the Marines to secure the area"
'cause they don't give a shit. It
won't be their kid over there, gettin' shot. Just like it wasn't them when
their number got called, 'cause they
were pullin' a tour in the National
Guard. It'll be some kid from South over there takin' shrapnel in the ass. 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 ass got his old job, 'cause he'll work for fifteen cents a day and no
bathroom breaks.
Meanwhile they realizes the only reason he
Was 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 a 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 and maybe they even took the liberty of hiring an alcoholic skipper who likes
to drink martinis and fucking play
slalom with the icebergs and 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 and he can't afford to drive so
he's walking to the fucking job interview which sucks 'cause the shrapnel in his ass is givin' him chronic hemorrhoids. And meanwhile he's starvin' 'cause 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.
WILL (cont'd)
So what'd I think? I'm holdin' out
for somethin' better. I figure fuck it while I’m at it Why not
just shoot my buddy, take his job and
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.