How Can Safety Be Oppressive....?

The Mommy Problem :

When voters want a National Daddy, someone to be tough and strong and defend The Country, they vote Republican. 

When they want a Mommy, someone to give them jobs, health care, the policy equivalent of motzah ball soup, they vote Democratic.

Edgar Friendly: 

You got ball balls, cop, coming down here after the show you put on. 

Lenina Huxley: 

We're looking for a murder-death-killer. 

Can you help, or just bully us with your primitive weapons? 

[Friendly then raises his twin barrelled pistol and fires it to show it's not primitive] 

Lenina Huxley: 

Oh, maybe they're not so primitive. 

Edgar Friendly: 

So, you think you're taking me in, huh? 

Guess what, not happening. 

You tell Cocteau he can kiss my ass. Yeah, that's right, you tell Cocteau it's gonna take an army of assholes to get rid of me 'cause I don't give a shit, I've got nothing to lose. 

John Spartan: I don't wanna rain on your parade, pal. But, I don't know who the hell you are, let alone wanna take you anywhere. So stay here, be well and Cocteau's an asshole! 

[In anger, he slaps a scrap's weapon to the side] 

Wasteland Scrap: Let's stake them and dump them up top, they're only down here to spy on us. 

John Spartan: Wait a minute, you're the guy outside Taco Bell. 

Edgar Friendly: Yeah. What do you want? 

John Spartan: I guess you weren't part of the Cocteau Plan. 

Edgar Friendly: Greed, deception, abuse of power? That's no plan. 

John Spartan: And that's why everybody's down here? 

Edgar Friendly: You got that right. See, according to Cocteau's plan, I'm the enemy. Cause I like to think, I like to read. I'm into freedom of speech and freedom of choice. I'm the kind if guy who wants to sit in a greasy spoon and think, "Gee, should I have the T-bone steak or the jumbo rack of barbecued ribs with the side order of gravy fries?" I want high cholesterol. I want to eat bacon, butter and buckets of cheese, okay? I want to smoke a Cuban cigar the size of Cincinnati in a non-smoking section. I wanna run through the streets naked with green Jello all over my body reading Playboy magazine. Why? Because I suddenly might feel the need to. Okay, pal? I've seen the future, you know what it is? It's a 47-year-old virgin sittin' around in his beige pajamas, drinking a banana-broccoli shake singing "I'm an Oscar-Meyer Wiener". You wanna live on top, you gotta live Cocteau's way. What he wants, when he wants, how he wants. Your other choice: come down here, maybe starve to death. 

John Spartan: All right, then why don't you take charge and lead these people out of here? 

Edgar Friendly: I'm no leader. I do what I have to do. Sometimes, people come with me. All I want to do is bury Cocteau up to his neck in shit and let him think happy-happy thoughts forever. 

John Spartan: Then I got bad news: I think he wants to kill you. 

[Freindly gives him a blank look]