Tuesday, 18 February 2020

Affected Pretend Frenchmen



You see? It's like wiping your arse with silk
I love it.
 
– The Frenchman.

I’m so sick of His Bullshit.
 
— The Frenchman’s Wife


Of all the National Cultures of The Modern Age, The French is the most prestigious - in culture, the AngloAmericans provide trash for the mass market, but The French provide luxury goods for The Elite.


In Asia, Africa, Latin-America, intellectual elites who are tired of McDonalds turn, above all to France.

French Culture is a Venetian Monstrosity.



British Prime Minister Robert Warpole gloated that The French are ten times more idiotic than The British because, they are so easily DUPED.



The French, of course, pride themselves on their knowledge, on their urbanity — on their glittering, cynical intelligence.

They think that they are the True Sophisticates and Connoisseurs of INTRUIGE



The Worst Thing That Can Happen to Them is to Be FOOLED....”
-TARPLEY


No chance, English bed-wetting types!
Ah farte en your generale direction. !! – Your Mother was an amster, and Your Father smelt of elderberries..!!










ICLC Labor Day Conference September 1, 1996
Panel--From Napoleon to Nashville:

The first hour of the panel was a discussion of the birth of the Nation-State in France under Louis the 11th and the subsequent efforts by the Venetian Empire in bringing about its downfall.

The creation of the Jacobin Terror, and rise of Napoleon Bonaparte as a Corsican terrorist foisted on France as a tin-horn dictator used to embroil Europe in permanent warfare.

Napoleon himself pays the conference a visit in order to explain his viewpoint of why he is the Master of the Universe.

The second hour of the panel was a discussion of Napoleon Bonaparte as the first modern Fascist with the showing of an extremely rare silent film. 

Following his defeat at Waterloo, the Bonaparte family escaped to the United States and became a part of the aristocratic disease contributing to the Southern slaveocracy. 

Napoleon himself makes a return to deal with the awful things being said about him with the help of a General from the Confederacy




Morpheus: 
Here we go.

Maitre d’: 
Puis-je vous aider?

Morpheus: 
Yes, we are here to speak with The Merovingian.

Maitre d’: 
Of course, he has been expecting you. 
Follow me.

Merovingian: 
Aha, here he is at last. 
Neo, The One himself, right? 
And The Legendary Morpheus. 
And Trinity of course, si belle qu’elle me fait souffrir. 
I have heard so much, you honour me. 
Please, sit, join us. 
This is my wife, Persephone. 
Something to eat? Drink? 
Hmm… of course, such things are contrivances like so much here. 

For the sake of appearances.

Neo: 
No, thank you.

Merovingian: 
Yes, of course, who has time? 
Who has time? 
But then if we do not ever take time, how can we ever have time? 
Château Haut-Brion 1959, magnificent wine, 
I love French wine, like I love the French language. 
I have sampled every language, French is my favourite – 
fantastic language, especially to curse with. 
Nom de Dieu de putain de bordel de merde de saloperies de connards d’enculés de ta mère. 
You see, it’s like wiping your arse with silk, I love it.

Morpheus: 
You know why we are here.

Merovingian: 
Hmph… I am a trafficker of information, 
I know everything I can. 
The Question is, do you know why you are here?

Morpheus: 
We are looking for the Keymaker.

Merovingian: 
Oh yes, it is true. 
The Keymaker, of course. 
But this is not a reason, this is not a `why.’ 
The Keymaker himself, his very nature, is means, it is not an end, and so, to look for him is to be looking for a means to do… what?

Neo: 
You know the answer to that question.

Merovingian: 
But do you? 
You think you do but you do not. 
You are here because you were sent here, you were told to come here and you obeyed. 
[Laughs] 
It is, of course, the way of all things. 
You see, there is only one constant, one universal, it is the only real truth: causality
Action. Reaction. 
Cause and Effect.

Morpheus: 
Everything begins with choice.

Merovingian: 
No. Wrong.
Choice is an illusion, created between those with power, and those without. 
Look there, at that woman. 
My God, just look at her. 
Affecting everyone around her, so obvious, so bourgeois, so boring. 
But wait… Watch – you see, I have sent her dessert, a very special dessert. I wrote it myself. It starts so simply, each line of the program creating a new effect, just like poetry. 
First, a rush… heat… her heart flutters. 
You can see it, Neo, yes? 
She does not understand why – is it the wine? No. 
What is it then, what is the reason? 
And soon it does not matter, soon the why and the reason are gone, and all that matters is the feeling itself. 
This is the nature of the universe. 
We struggle against it, we fight to deny it, but it is of course pretense, it is a lie. 
Beneath our poised appearance, the truth is we are completely out of control. 

Causality. 

There is no escape from it, we are forever slaves to it. 
Our only hope, our only peace is to understand it, to understand the `why.’ 
`Why’ is what separates us from them, you from me. 
`Why’ is the only real social power, without it you are powerless. 

And this is how you come to me, without `why,’ without power. 
Another link in the chain. 

But fear not, since I have seen how good you are at following orders, 
I will tell you what to do next. 

Run back, and give the fortune teller this message: 
Her time is almost up. 
Now I have some real business to do, I will say adieu and goodbye.

Neo: 
This isn’t over.

Merovingian: 
Oh yes, it is. The Keymaker is mine 
and I see no reason why I should give him up. 
No reason at all.

Persephone: 
Where are you going?

Merovingian: 
Please, ma chérie, I’ve told you, we are all victims of causality. 
I drink too much wine, I must take a piss. 
Cause and effect. Au revoir.

Trinity: 
Touch me, and that hand will never touch anything again.

Neo: 
Well, that didn’t go so well.

Morpheus: 
Are you certain the Oracle didn’t say anything else?

Neo: 
Yes.

Trinity: 
Maybe we did something wrong.

Neo: 
Or didn’t do something.

Morpheus: 
No, what happened happened and couldn’t have happened any other way.

Neo: 
How do you know?

Morpheus: 
We are still alive.


Persephone: 
If you want the Keymaker, follow me. 
[to man in washroom
Get out! 
I’m so sick of his bullshit. 
On and on, pompous prick. 
A long time ago, when we first came here, it was so different. 
He was so different. He was like you. 
I’ll give you what you want. 
But you have to give me something.

Neo: 
What?

Persephone: 
A kiss.

Trinity: 
Excuse me?

Persephone: 
I want you to kiss me as if you were kissing her.

Neo: 
Why?

Persephone: 
You love her. She loves you. It’s all over you both. 
A long time ago, I knew what that felt like. 
I want to remember it. I want to sample it.
 That’s all, just a sample.

Trinity: 
Why don’t you sample this instead?

Morpheus: 
Trinity.

Persephone: 
Such emotion over something so small. 
It’s just a kiss.

Neo: 
Why should we trust you?

Persephone: 
If I don’t deliver you to the Keymaker, she can kill me.

Neo: 
All right.

Persephone: 
But you have to make me believe I am her.

Neo: 
All right.

Persephone: 
Terrible. Forget it.

Neo: 
Wait. Okay.

Persephone: 
Ahh, yes. That’s it. I envy you. 
But such a thing is not meant to last. 

Come with me.

Link: 
Not again!

Persephone: 
It’s all right, boys, they’re with me. 
These fellas work for my husband, they do his dirty work. 
They’re very good, very loyal. Aren’t you, boys?

Cain and Abel: 
Yes, Mistress.

Persephone: 
They come from a much older version of the Matrix, but like so many back then, they caused more problems than they solved. 
My husband saved them because they’re notoriously difficult to terminate. 
How many people keep silver bullets in their gun? 

You can either run to the restaurant and tell my husband what I have done, 
or you can stay there and die. 
He’s in the ladies’ room… 
[to Neb crew] 
Hurry.

Neo: 
My name is Neo.

Keymaker: 
Yes, I’m the Keymaker, I’ve been waiting for you.

Merovingian: 
Oh God, my God, Persephone how could you do this, 
you betrayed me [speaking French]!

Persephone: 
Cause and effect, my love.

Merovingian: 
Cause? There is no cause for this, what cause?

Persephone: 
What cause? 
How about the lipstick you’re still wearing?

Merovingian: 
Lipstick? Lipstick? 
What craziness you are talking about woman, there is no lipstick.

Persephone: 
She wasn’t kissing your face, my love.

Merovingian: 
Ai-ai-ai-ai-ai-ai, woman, this is nothing, 
c’est rien, c’est rien du tout. 
It’s a game, it is only a game.

Persephone: 
So is this. Have fun.

Merovingian: 
All right. All right. Let us find out where this goes. 
You two, get the Keymaker.

Trinity: 
That’s a nice trick.

Keymaker: 
I cannot go back.

Neo: 
I’ll handle them.

Merovingian: 
Handle us? You’ll handle us? 
You know, your predecessors had much more respect.

Merovingian: 
Okay, you have some skill. Kill him.

Merovingian: 
You see, he’s just a Man.

Merovingian: 
Damn it, woman, you will be the end of me. 
Mark my words, boy, and mark them well. 
I have survived your predecessors, and I will survive you!




(Mobil Ave. train station)

Sati: 
Are you from the Matrix?

Neo: 
Yes. No. I mean, I was.

Sati: 
Why did you leave?

Neo: 
I had to.

Sati: 
I had to leave my home too.

Rama-Kandra: 
Sati! Come here, darling. 
Leave the poor man in peace.

Sati: 
Yes, papa.

Rama-Kandra: 
I’m sorry, she is still very curious.

Neo: 
I know you.

Rama-Kandra: 
Yes, in the restaurant at the Frenchman’s. 
I am Rama-Kandra. 
This is my wife Kamala, my daughter Sati. 
We are most honoured to meet you.

Neo: 
You’re programs.

Rama-Kandra: 
Oh, yes. I’m the power plant systems manager for recycling operations. 
My wife is an interactive software programmer, she is highly creative.

Kamala: 
What are you doing here? 
You do not belong here.

Rama-Kandra: 
Kamala! Goodness, I apologize. 
My wife can be very direct.

Neo: 
It’s okay. I don’t have an answer. 
I don’t even know where ‘here’ is.

Rama-Kandra: 
This place is nowhere. 
It is between your world and our world.

Neo: 
Who’s the Trainman?

Rama-Kandra: 
He works for the Frenchman.

Neo: 
Why’d I know you were going to say that?

Rama-Kandra: 
The Frenchman does not forget and he does not forgive.

Neo: 
You know him?

Rama-Kandra: 
I know only what I need to know. 
I know that if you want to take something from our world into your world that does not belong there, you must go to the Frenchman.

Neo: 
Is that what you’re doing here?

Kamala: 
Rama, please!

Rama-Kandra: 
I do not want to be cruel, Kamala. 
He may never see another face for the rest of his life.

Neo: 
I’m sorry. 
You don’t have to answer that question.

Rama-Kandra: 
No. I don’t mind. The answer is simple. 
I love my daughter very much. 
I find her to be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. 
But where we are from, that is not enough. 
Every program that is created must have a purpose; if it does not, it is deleted. 
I went to the Frenchman to save my daughter. 
You do not understand.

Neo: 
I just have never…

Rama-Kandra: 
…heard a program speak of love?

Neo: 
It’s a… human emotion.

Rama-Kandra: 
No, it is a word
What matters is the connection the word implies
I see that you are in love. 
Can you tell me what you would give to hold on to that connection?

Neo: 
Anything.

Rama-Kandra: 
Then perhaps the reason you’re here is not so different from the reason I’m here.


(Matrix: inside a subway train)

Seraph: 
That’s him.

Trainman: 
Get away! Get away from me!

Seraph: 
We don’t want trouble.

Trainman: 
Get away from me!

Seraph: 
We need your help.

Trainman: 
I can’t help you. No one can help you!

(Matrix: a subway stop [Stellma?])
{the Trainman prepares to jump across the tracks in the path of the LOOP train}

Seraph: 
Oh, no.
{the train passes, the Trainman is gone}

Seraph: 
Damn it.

(Mobil Ave. train station)

Neo: 
When is the train due?

Rama-Kandra: 
It’s already late. 
It’s not like the Trainman to be late.

Neo: 
You think it has something to do with me?

Rama-Kandra: 
I cannot say. Who knows such things? 
Only the Oracle.

Neo: You know the Oracle?

Rama-Kandra: 
Everyone knows the Oracle. 
I consulted with her before I met with the Frenchman. 
She promised she would look after Sati after we said goodbye.

Neo: 
Goodbye? You’re not staying with her?

Rama-Kandra: 
It is not possible. 
Our arrangement with the Frenchman was for our daughter only. 
My wife and I must return to our world.

Neo: 
Why?

Rama-Kandra: 
That is our karma.

Neo: 
You believe in karma?

Rama-Kandra: 
Karma’s a word. Like ‘love.’ 
A way of saying ‘what I am here to do.’ 
I do not resent my karma – I’m grateful for it. 
Grateful for my wonderful wife, for my beautiful daughter. 
They are gifts. And so I do what I must do to honour them.

Sati: 
Papa, the train!

Rama-Kandra: 
Yes! Get your bags, quickly!

Neo: 
Can I carry that for you?

Rama-Kandra: 
All right.

Trainman: 
Hurry it up, I’m late!

{Kamala and Sati pass, Trainman stops Neo}

Trainman: 
Who are you?

Rama-Kandra: 
He’s a friend.

Kamala: 
Rama!

Trainman: 
I know you. 
So that’s what they wanted.

Neo: 
I need to get back. 
I’ll pay you anything you want.

Trainman: 
Oh?

Neo: 
One way or another I’m getting on this train

Trainman: 
Oh, no, no, no. You’re gonna stay right here until the Merovingian says different. 
If I know him, you’re gonna be here for a long, long time.

Neo: 
I don’t want to hurt you.

Trainman: 
You don’t get it. I built this place. 
Down here I make the rules. Down here I make the threats. 
Down here, I’m God. 
*to Rama-Kandra* 
Get on the train, or you’ll stay here with him.

(Matrix: inside a car)

Seraph: 
We should return to the Oracle. 
She’ll know what to do.

Trinity: 
No. We know what has to be done.

(Mobil Ave. train station)

Neo: 
Shit.

(Hel Club garage)
Q-Ball Gang Member #1: 
You’ve got to be kidding…

Q-Ball Gang Member #2: 
Holy shit, it’s Wingless.

Q-Ball Gang Member #1: 
I get it. 
You must be ready to die.

Seraph: 
I need to speak with him.

Q-Ball Gang Member #1: 
The only way you’re getting through this door is over my big dead ass.

Seraph: 
So be it.

(Hel Club elevator)
Seraph: 
There are no weapons allowed in the club. 
At the bottom of this elevator, there is a coat check girl. 
And if we’re lucky, one man for checking guns.

Trinity: 
And if we’re unlucky?

Seraph: 
There will be many men.


(Hel Club entrance)

Coat Check Girl: 
Can I take your… oh my God.

{Hel Club shootout}

(Hel Club – VIP lounge)

Merovingian: 
What in the hell? 
*laughs* 
I don’t believe this.

Merovingian: 
*to the DJ* 
Hey. Hey! 
*to Seraph* 
The prodigal child returns. 
L’ange sans ailes (Trans: The angel without wings). 
Are you here for the bounty, Seraph? 
*laughs heartily* 
Tell me, how many bullets are there in those guns? 
I don’t know, but I don’t think you have enough.

Seraph: 
We only want to talk.

Merovingian: 
Oh yes, I’m sure you do, you have fought through hell to do so, yes? 
I’ll tell you what I’ll do. 
Put down the guns and I will promise you safe passage out of here.

Seraph: 
All three of us.

Merovingian: 
Oh yes, yes. Of course.

{Trinity, Seraph, and Morpheus put down the guns and are escorted up the stairs}

Merovingian: 
*laughs* 
Quelle bonne surprise, n’est pas? 
(Trans: What a fine surprise, isn’t it?) 
Who could’ve guessed we’d all be seeing each other so soon after our last meeting? 
A fate too kind. And since you, my little Judas, have […] here, I can only surmise that the fortune teller has found herself another shell? 
Disappointing, but not unexpected. I do hope, however, she has the good manners to learn her lesson, and to remember that there is no action without consequence. 
And if you take something from me you will pay the price.

Seraph: 
You know why we are here.

Merovingian: 
*laughs* 
Come, now. What kind of question is this? 

Of course I know. It’s my business to know. 

The Frenchman’s Wife glares at her pompous, pretentious prick of a husband.

Some might think this a strange coincidence, but I do not. 
I am curious, though, as to how it actually happened. 
Do you know?

Trinity: 
No.

Merovingian: 
No? I didn’t think so. 
But it is always best to ask.

Morpheus: 
We want to make a deal.

Merovingian: 
*laughs* 
Always straight to business, huh, Morpheus? 
Okay. I have something you want. 
To make a deal, you must have something I want, yes? 
And it so happens there is something I want. 
Something I’ve wanted ever since I first came here. 
It is said they cannot be taken, they can only be given.

Morpheus: 
What?

Merovingian: 
The Eyes of the Oracle. 
*laughs*

Merovingian: 
I have told you before, there’s no escaping the nature of the universe. 
It is that nature that has again brought you to me. 
Where some see coincidence, I see consequence. 
Where others see chance, I see cost. 
Bring me the eyes of the Oracle, and I will give you back your saviour. 
That seems a particularly fair and reasonable deal to me. Yes, no?

Trinity: 
I don’t have time for this shit.

{Hel Club upstairs fight}

Trinity: 
You want to make a deal, how about this? 
You give me Neo, or we all die right here, right now.

Merovingian: 
Interesting deal. 
You are really ready to die for this man?

Trinity: 
*cocks gun* 
Believe it.

Perseph: 
She’ll do it. If she has to, she’ll kill every one of us. 
She’s in love.

Merovingian: 
It is remarkable how similar the pattern of love is to the pattern of insanity.

Trinity: 
Time’s up. What’s it gonna be, Merv?

(Mobil Ave train station)
Neo: 
Ok. You got yourself into this. 
You can get yourself out.


(Matrix: inside a car)
Morpheus: 
Are you ready for us?

Link: 
Almost, sir. They got some pretty ancient hacks here, we’re working on it. 
Did you find Neo?

Morpheus:
 Can’t you see him?

Link: 
No, sir. We were reading something but I couldn’t tell what it was.

Neo: 
I can’t leave yet.

{Trinity looks over at him}
Neo: 
I have to see her.

Trinity: 
Now?

Neo: 
This is my last chance.

(Oracle’s kitchen)
Oracle: 
That’s it. That’s the secret. 
You’ve got to use your hands.

Sati: 
Why?

Oracle: 
Cookies need love like everything does.

Sati: 
Neo!

Oracle: 
was hoping to have these done before you got here. 
Oh well. Sati, honey, I think it’s time for a tasting. 
Take the bowl to Seraph and find out if they’re ready.

Sati: 
Okay. 
*to Neo* 
I’m glad you got out.

Neo: Me too.

Oracle: 
So, do you recognize me?

Neo: 
A part of you.

Oracle: 
Yeah, that’s how it works. 
Some bits you lose, some bits you keep. 
I don’t yet recognize my face in the mirror, but… I still love candy. 
*offers Neo a piece of red candy*

Neo: 
No, thank you.

Oracle: 
Remember what you were like when you first walked through my door, jittery as a junebug? And now just look at you. 
You sure did surprise me, Neo, and you still do.

Neo: 
You gave me a few surprises, too.

Oracle: 
I hope I helped.

Neo:
 You helped me to get here, but my question is why? 
Where does this go? 
Where does it end?

Oracle: 
I don’t know.

Neo: 
You don’t know or you won’t tell me?

Oracle: 
I told you before. 
No one can see beyond a choice they don’t understand, and I mean no one.

Neo: 
What choice?

Oracle: 
It doesn’t matter. It’s my choice. 
I have mine to make, same as you have yours.

Neo: 
Does that include what things to tell me and what not to tell me?

Oracle: 
Of course not.

Neo: 
Then why didn’t you tell me about the Architect? 
Why didn’t you tell me about Zion, the Ones before me – 
why didn’t you tell me the truth?

Oracle: 
Because it wasn’t time for you to know.

Neo: 
Who decided it wasn’t time?

Oracle: 
You know who. 
*She points at the Temet Nosce sign above the door*

Neo: 
I did. 
*Oracle nods* 
Then I think it’s time for me to know a few more things.

Oracle: 
So do I.

Neo: 
Tell me how I separated my mind from my body without jacking in. 
Tell me how I stopped four sentinels by thinking it. 
Tell me just what the hell is happening to me.

Oracle: 
The power of the One extends beyond this world. 
It reaches from here all the way back to where it came from.

Neo: 
Where?

Oracle: 
The Source. 
That’s what you felt when you touched those Sentinels. 
But you weren’t ready for it. 
You should be dead, but apparently you weren’t ready for that, either.

Neo: 
The Architect told me that if I didn’t return to the Source, Zion would be destroyed by midnight tonight.

Oracle: 
*rolls eyes* 
Please… You and I may not be able to see beyond our own choices, but that man can’t see past any choices.

Neo: Why not?

Oracle: 
He doesn’t understand them – he can’t. 
To him they are variables in an equation. 
One at a time each variable must be solved and countered. 
That’s his purpose: to balance an equation.

Neo: 
What’s your purpose?

Oracle: 
To unbalance it.

Neo: 
Why? What do you want?

Oracle: 
I want the same thing you want, Neo. 
And I am willing to go as far as you are to get it.

Neo: 
The end of the war. 
*Oracle nods* 
Is it going to end?
Oracle: One way, or another.

Neo: 
Can Zion be saved?

Oracle: 
I’m sorry, I don’t have the answer to that question, but if there’s an answer, there’s only one place you’re going to find it.

Neo: 
Where?

Oracle: 
You know where. 
And if you can’t find the answer, 
then I’m afraid there may be no tomorow for any of us.

Neo: 
What does that mean?

Oracle: 
Everything that has a beginning has an end. 
I see the end coming. 
I see the darkness spreading. I see death. 
And you are all that stands in his way.

Neo: 
Smith.
Oracle: 
*nods* 
Very soon he’s going to have the power to destroy This World, but I believe he won’t stop there; he can’t. 
He won’t stop until there’s nothing left at all.
Neo: 
What is he?
Oracle: 
He is you.
 Your opposite, your negative, the result of the equation trying to balance itself out.
Neo: 
What if I can’t stop him?
Oracle: 
One way or another, Neo, this war is going to end. 
Tonight, the future of both worlds will be in your hands… or in his.

Monday, 17 February 2020

The Way of Absolute Candor




Vashti is a hotbed for the Romulan Rebirth movement.
But you're just gonna drop in and pick yourself up a nun.


O-Okay, well, now somebody has to tell me what we're talking about.


JL wants to hire an assassin.


They are not assassins, and you can't hire them.
The Qowat Milat have to choose you.


Romulan warrior nuns.


That's a real thing? 
How bizarre.





I know knew some Qowat Milat.
On Vashti alone, they helped Raffi and me relocate more than a quarter of a million refugees.
And they're the most skilled single-combat fighters that I have ever seen and the most feared enemies of the Tal Shiar.


Sounds like you already owe them more than they owe you.
What-what makes you think they're gonna help you now? 


They have their own criteria whether to give or withhold their assistance to a cause.


And what is that? 











Let's just say that I am confident that they will find ours worthy, and if they don't, the Way of Absolute Candor means that they won't hesitate to tell us.


What's the Way of Absolute Candor? 

It's their primary teaching: total communication of emotion without any filter between thought and word.




And it runs entirely counter to everything that the Romulans hold dear. 


You do what you have to do, and I need more time.
Picard out.


We do what we can to maintain peace.
Half the sisters serve as qalankhan, freeblades patrolling roads and waterways, helping travelers, defending Romulan and Terran alike.
Do the Qowat Milat still bind their blades to a singular cause? If the cause is judged worthy.
Uh, no, thank you, Elnor.
Elnor? 



You feel shame seeing Elnor.


I always imagined that you had found a suitable place for him.


So many things we imagined back then never came to be.


But it's not just Elnor.
It's everything here the poverty, the degradation, the ethnic strife.
When I left here, there was none of this.


Because you could not save everyone, 
you chose to save no-one.

Yes.
I allowed The Perfect to become The Enemy of The Good.


You have not spoken of your purpose yet.
I infer that you have come to obtain the services of a qalankhkai.
Why? 

I am taking on the Tal Shiar, alone.

So your cause is a desperate one.


It is to me.

Another rescue? 

If I'm not too late.



You're not too late to rescue Elnor.

He does not belong here.
Once the evacuation ended, we simply never found a better home for him.

He completed his training? 


Last spring.

So he really is a Qowat Milat? 

No.
And as a man, he never can be.
But he is open-hearted, and apart from this display of the reticence you always seemed to inspire in him, forthright.
And his fighting skills are truly formidable.


And you would send him away? He might find himself in serious danger.
He might die.


He will.
Before that comes to pass, it would gladden my heart to see him live.



When you bind your sword to a cause, is there some kind of protocol? A ritual?
Do-do I go on my knees? 
Oh, I do hope not.
Between the two of us, my knees are not what they used to be.


You tell a story, I listen.
Simple.


I had a friend called Data.
It's usually a sad story.
He died.
He gave his life to save mine, and I have missed him ever since.
Did you ever miss me? Of course I did.
Continue.
Well, recently, I've learned that Data this is complicated that Data had two offspring.
And one of them her name was "Dahj" was murdered in front of me.
The other one, I believe, is in serious danger.
And I have to find her before the Tal Shiar do.
- The Tal Shiar? - Yes.
And this other sister is she an android? Mm-hmm.
You told me stories about Data.
He had an orange cat named Spot.
That's right.
I've still never seen a cat.
Well, if you come with us, you might just run across one or two of them.
Why do you need me? Because I failed to protect her sister.
But you don't know where she is or if she's even alive.
- No.
- What about the man who built her? - It's just a guess.
- Are you being pursued? Likely.
Anticipated, actually.
All that is why you need someone.
Why do you need me? Because I'm an old man and you're a young one, and you're strong.
Zani told me that you are one of the best fighters that she has ever seen.
It seems to me that my quest has the appropriate criteria.
Will you come with me? Will you bind your sword to my quest? Now that you have use for me? Now that I have value to you? You left me - on my own, old man.
- I never meant to I see no reason not to do the same.
Elnor, it! Rios, it's Picard.
I'm ready for transport.
Copy that.
Next window opens in seven minutes.
You may call me Tenqem Adrev.
We met before.
Once.
Have we? Forgive me.
I, uh Oh, it was in another lifetime, when I was another man.
A Romulan senator, if you can believe it.
I had the honor of being present the day you addressed the Hall of State, the very embodiment of Starfleet, making such eloquent and generous promises on behalf of the magnanimous Federation.
The great Saint Picard.
Senator I found it extremely moving.
How very touched we all were.
There were tears in my eyes.
Thank you.
And then you went away.
And when you returned, you brought the ships.
Those great big Wallenberg-class transports.
We all packed and boarded the Nightingale, five generations of parents and grandparents, siblings and spouses and children.
And the Nightingale brought us here, to Vashti.
We had so little time.
There were so many of you to save.
And so little to be expected from Starfleet.
I did everything I could.
And then you gave up.
Skantal! Bidran! No one asked for your pity, Picard.
Just as no one asked for your help.
You and Starfleet had no understanding of Romulan ingenuity, resolve, self-sufficiency.
You took advantage of us at the very moment where we doubted ourselves, enticed us with your empty promises, and did everything in your power to scatter, confuse and divide us.
That is not so! I promise you You promise?! You promise? Give him your sword.
No.
Come on.
No! Please, my friend.
Choose to live.
I regret your choice.
Enough, Elnor.
The Federation has failed you all.
I failed you all.
I broke faith with you, and the result was terrible pain and loss for you all.
And I am sorry.
Picard, ready for transport.


A tan qalanq is no match for a disruptor, sisterboy.

JL? 

Yes! Now! 







* They beam up * 
That man did not deserve to die.

Yet he chose it.
Fight a Qowat Milat, and the outcome is not in doubt.


Now, you listen to me, carefully.
I will benefit by your skill and your courage, but if you bind yourself to my cause, I will tell you when to fight and when to refrain.
Is that understood? 


Yes.


Swear it.


I swear.


PICARD :

Dr.Jurati, Raffi, this is Elnor.


RAFFI :

A boy with a stick.


PICARD :

I have to ask you, what made you decide to bind yourself to my cause? 


ELNOR :

It met the requirements for worthiness.

And it seemed like you needed me after all.



Dr. JURATI :

What is the requirement for worthiness? 


PICARD :

A qalankhkai would only bind herself - himself - to a lost cause.


No-one’s Ever Really Gone.



“You DON’T tell children that they were born in The Wrong Body, because they’re CHILDREN and they will BELIEVE you...!!”




“You DON’T tell children that they were born in The Wrong Body, because they’re CHILDREN and they will BELIEVE you...!!”



“In some ways the debate around the Trans question is the most suggestive of all. Although the newest of the rights questions also affects by far the FEWEST number of people, it is nevertheless fought over with an almost unequalled ferocity and rage. 

• It affects ALMOST NO-ONE •

• Women who have got on the wrong side of the issue have been hounded by people who used to be men. 

• Parents who voice what was common belief until yesterday have their fitness to be parents questioned. 

• In the UK and elsewhere the police make calls on people who will not concede that men can be women (and vice versa).

Among the things these issues all have in common is that they have started as legitimate human rights campaigns. This is why they have come so far. 

But at some point all went through the crash barrier. Not content with being equal, they have started to settle on unsustainable positions such as ‘better’. 

Some might counter that the aim is simply to spend a certain amount of time on ‘better’ in order to level the historical playing field. 

In the wake of the #MeToo movement it became common to hear such sentiments. As one CNN presenter said, ‘There might be an over-correction, but that’s OK. We’re due for a correction.’


To date nobody has suggested when over-correction might have been achieved or who might be TRUSTED to announce it. 

What everyone DOES know are the things that people will be called if their foot even nicks against these freshly laid tripwires. 

‘Bigot’,‘homophobe’,‘sexist’,‘misogynist’,‘racist’ and ‘transphobe’ are just for starters. 

The rights fights of our time have centred around these toxic and explosive issues. But in the process these rights issues have moved from being a product of a system to being the foundations of a new one. 

To demonstrate affiliation with the system people must prove their credentials and their commitment. How might somebody demonstrate virtue in this new world? 

• By being ‘anti-racist’, clearly. 
• By being an ‘ally’ to LGBT people, obviously. 
• By stressing how ardent your desire is – whether you are a man or a woman – to bring down the patriarchy. 

And this creates an AUDITIONING PROBLEM, where public avowals of loyalty to The System must be volubly made whether there is a need for them or not. 

It is an extension of a well-known problem in liberalism which has been recognized even among those who DID once fight a noble fight. It is a tendency identified by the late Australian political philosopher Kenneth Minogue as ‘St George in retirement’ syndrome. 

After slaying the dragon the brave warrior finds himself stalking the land looking for still more glorious fights. He NEEDS his dragons. 

Eventually, after tiring himself out in pursuit of ever-smaller dragons he may eventually even be found swinging his sword at thin air, imagining it to contain dragons.

If that is a temptation for an actual St George, imagine what a person might do who is NO saint, owns NO horse or lance and is being noticed by NOBODY. 

How might they try to persuade people that, given the historic chance, they too would without question have slain that dragon....? “

Other People Have Families








“ The Garden of Eden and the heavenly Jerusalem are the same place, depending on whether you are looking backward or forward. 

A person touched by Loneliness is a holy person. 

He is caught in the development of individuation. 

Whether it’s a development or a regression depends on what he does with it. 

Loneliness can destroy you, or it can fire you up for a Dante-like journey through Hell and Purgatory to find paradise. St. John of the Cross called this the Dark Night of the Soul.

The worst suffering I’ve ever experienced has been loneliness, the kind that feels as though it has no cure, that nothing can touch it. 

One day, at the midpoint in my life—a little like Dante—I got so exhausted from it that I went into my bedroom, lay face down on my bed, and said, “I’m not going to move until this is resolved.” 

I stayed a long time, and the loneliness did ease a little. 

Dante fell out of Hell, shimmied down the hairy leg of the Devil, went through the center of the world, and started up the other side, which was Purgatory. 

I felt better, but as soon as I got up and began to do anything, my loneliness returned. 

I made many round trips until gradually an indescribable quality began to suffuse my life, and loneliness loosened its grip. 

Nothing outside changed. The change was entirely inside.

Thomas Merton wrote a beautiful treatise on solitude. 

He said that certain individuals are obliged to bear The Solitude of God. 

Solitude is Loneliness evolved to the next level of reality. He who is obliged to bear The Solitude of God should not be asked to do anything else; it’s such a difficult task. 

For monastics, solitude was one of the early descriptions of God. 

If you can transform your Loneliness into Solitude, you’re one step away from the most precious of all experiences. 

This is the cure for Loneliness.

Excerpt from: "Inner Gold: Understanding Psychological Projection" by Arnie Kotler.