lunes, 5 de mayo de 2008

In the name of the father

We carry our parents with us into our mistakes or achievements...

written by Terry George & Jim Sheridan, from book by Gerry Conlon

Gerry: Why do you always follow me? Huh? I mean, why do you always follow me when I do something wrong? Why can't you follow me when I do something right?
Giuseppe: What are you talking about?
Gerry: Huh? What am I talking about? I'm talking about the medal.
Giuseppe: What medal?
Gerry: What fucking medal? What fucking medal? The only fucking medal that was ever in our house. That fucking medal. The medal I won at football. And you sat on the sidelines shouting instructions like you could only see what I was doing - you couldn't even play football- and you could only see what I was doing wrong. I could never do anything good enough for you. And after the game, you came up to me and you said, you said "Gerry, did you foul the ball?" And I walked away from you, do you remember now? I walked away from you into the dressing room. You followed me in there and you said again "Gerry, did you foul the ball?" And all the other fathers were in there, they were laughing at you, calling you "Poor Giuseppe" And I ran out, and I hid, and I wrote your name on the ground -- your stupid Giuseppe fucking name. I wrote it in the dirt and I fucking pissed on it. I pissed on it, because I did foul the ball. What did it matter? We won. For once in our lives, we won. You ruined that medal for me. I took it to the pawn, and they laughed at me -- they wouldn't even give me 50 pence for it.
Giuseppe: This is shock.
Gerry: And that's when I started to rob, to prove that I was no good.
Giuseppe: Delayed shock.
Gerry: Delayed shock? Never mind delayed shock. I've been like this since I was seven. I remember Mammy said to me "Don't upset Giuseppe. He's not well." Oh dear Lord.not well. So we'd tiptoe 'round the house like this, tiptoesing around the house. "Not well, you know. He's not well" Then I got Holy Communion. I thought I was eating you alive. I mean, is it my fault you weren't well? Why did you have to be sick all your life, Giuseppe? Huh? What'd you have to be sick all your life for? When that mad bastard out there threatened to shoot you, I was happy. I swear to God. Honest to God, I was happy. I was delighted! You know why? Because finally it was all over. It was over ! You see? And then I knew I was bad. I knew I was bad then, you see, so I started to cry. I started to tell lies - the same fucking lies I've been telling all my gobshite fucking life. (begins making incomprehensible sounds) Ha wa weh leuh blah wha... (continues) You know what that means? It means words don't mean nothing.
Giuseppe: Stop this.
Gerry: Only this time I got everyone into trouble. But it doesn't matter does it, 'cause I'm no good anyhow. Doesn't matter. Ah, keep away from me. You've been following me all your fucking life and now here you are in jail. Are you doing this deliberately?
Giuseppe: No.
Gerry: Are you doing it deliberately?
Giuseppe: Stop it.
Gerry: Are you doing it deliberately?(Giuseppe slaps him)
Gerry: You call that a fucking dig, ha? Do you call that a fucking dig? Hit me harder. (starts hitting himself on the head) Hit me like that. Hit me fucking harder. Hit me fucking harder.
Giuseppe: Stop it.
Gerry: For once in your fucking life...
Giuseppe: Gerry, please stop this.
Gerry: ... Hit me like a real father.
Giuseppe: Gerry calm down. Stop it.(Giuseppe holds Gerry)
Giuseppe: Just, just relax. Try to relax. You're alright. It's okay. Its not your fault son, all right? Everything's gonna be alright.

.......and then we regret

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