Daily Dialogue — July 7, 2013

HARTMAN: I am Gunnery Sergeant Hartman, your senior drill instructor. From now on you will speak only when spoken to. And the first and last words out of your filthy sewers will be Sir, do you maggots understand that?
RECRUITS: Sir, yes, Sir.
HARTMAN: Bullshit, I can’t hear you, sound off like you got a pair.
RECRUITS: Sir, yes, Sir.
HARTMAN: If you ladies leave my island, if you survive recruit traning, you will be a weapon. You will be a minister of death, praying for war. But until that day, you are pukes. You are the lowest form of life on Earth. You are not even human fucking beings. You are nothing but unorganized grabasstic pieces of amphibian shit. Because I am hard, you will not like me, but the more you hate me, the more you will learn. I am hard but I am fair. There is no racial bigotry here. I do not look down on niggers, kikes, wops or greasers. Here, you are all equally worthless. And my orders are to weed out all non-hackers who do not pack the gear to serve in my beloved Corps. Do you maggots understand that?
RECRUITS: Sir, yes, Sir.
HARTMAN: Bullshit, I can’t hear you.
RECRUITS: Sir, yes, Sir.
HARTMAN: What is your name, scumbag?
BROWN: Sir, Private Brown, Sir.
HARTMAN: Bullshit, from now on you are Private Snowball. Do you like that name?
BROWN: Sir, yes, Sir.
HARTMAN: Well there is one thing that you won’t like, Private Snowball. They do not serve fried chicken and watermelon on a daily basis in my mess hall.
BROWN: Sir, yes, Sir.
JOKER: Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me?
HARTMAN: Who said that? Who the fuck said that? Who is the slimey little communist shit twinkle-toed cocksucker down here who just signed his own death warrant? Nobody, huh? There fairy fucking godmother said it. Out-fucking-standing. I will PT you all until you fucking die. I will PT you until your assholes are sucking buttermilk. Was it you, you scroungy little fuck, huh?
COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir.
HARTMAN: You little piece of shit, you look like a fucking worm. I bet it was you.
COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir.
JOKER: Sir, I said it, Sir.
HARTMAN: Well, no shit. What have we got here? A fucking comedian, Private Joker. I admire your honesty. Hell, I like you. You can come over to my house and fuck my sister. You little scumbag. I got your name, I got your ass. You will not laugh, you will not cry, you will learn by the numbers. I will teach you. Now get up, get on your feet. You had best unfuck yourself or I will unscrew your head and shit down your neck.
JOKER: Sir, yes, sir.
HARTMAN: Private Joker, why did you join my beloved Corps?
JOKER: Sir, to kill, Sir.
HARTMAN: So you are a killer?
JOKER: Sir, yes, Sir.
HARTMAN: Let me see your war face.
JOKER: Sir?
HARTMAN: You got a war face? AAAAAH. That is a war face. Now let me see your war face.
JOKER: AAAAAH.
HARTMAN: Bullshit, you don’t convince me. Let me see your real war face.
JOKER: WAAAAAAH!
HARTMAN: You don’t scare me. Work on it.
JOKER: Sir, yes, Sir.
HARTMAN: What is your excuse?
COWBOY: Sir, excuse for what, Sir?
HARTMAN: I am asking the fucking questions here, Private. Do you understand?
COWBOY: Sir, yes, Sir.
HARTMAN: Well, thank you very much. Can I be in charge for a while?
COWBOY: Sir, yes, Sir.
HARTMAN: Are you shook up? Are you nervous?
COWBOY: Sir, I am, Sir.
HARTMAN: Do I make you nervous?
COWBOY: Sir…
HARTMAN: Sir what? Were you about to call me an asshole?
COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir.
HARTMAN: How tall are you, Private?
COWBOY: Sir, five foot nine, Sir.
HARTMAN: Five foot nine, I did not know they stacked shit that high. You trying to squeeze an inch in on me somewhere, huh?
COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir.
HARTMAN: Bullshit, it looks to me like the best part of you ran down the crack of your mama’s ass and ended up as a brown stain on the mattress. I think you’ve been cheated. Where in Hell are you from anyway, Private?
COWBOY: Sir, Texas, Sir.
HARTMAN: Holy dogshit, Texas! Only steers and queers come from Texas, Private Cowboy. And you don’t look much like a steer to me, so that kinda narrows it down. Do you suck dicks?
COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir.
HARTMAN: Are you a peter-puffer?
COWBOY: Sir, no, Sir.
HARTMAN: I bet you’re the kind of guy that would fuck a person in the ass and not even have the god-damn common courtesy to give him a reach-around. I’ll be watching you.
HARTMAN: Did your parents have any children that live?
PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir.
HARTMAN: I bet they regret that. You’re so ugly you could be a modern art masterpiece. What is your name, fatbody?
PYLE: Sir, Leonard Lawrence, Sir.
HARTMAN: Lawrence, Lawrence, what, of Arabia?
PYLE: Sir, no, Sir.
HARTMAN: That name sounds like royalty. Are you royalty?
PYLE: Sir, no, Sir.
HARTMAN: Do you suck dicks?
PYLE: Sir, no, Sir.
HARTMAN: Bullshit, I bet you could suck a golf ball through a garden hose.
PYLE: Sir, no, Sir.
HARTMAN: I don’t like the name Lawrence, only faggots and sailors are called Lawrence. From now on you are Gomer Pyle.
PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir.
HARTMAN: Do you think I’m cute, Private Pyle? Do you think I’m funny?
PYLE: Sir, no, Sir.
HARTMAN: Then wipe that disgusting grin off your face.
PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir.
HARTMAN: Well, any fucking time, sweetheart.
PYLE: Sir, I’m trying, Sir.
HARTMAN: Private Pyle, I’m gonna give you three seconds — exactly three fucking seconds — to wipe that stupid-looking grin off your face, or I will gouge out your eyeballs and skull-fuck you! One, two, three…
PYLE: Sir, I can’t help it, Sir.
HARTMAN: Bullshit, get on your knees, scumbag! Now choke yourself. Goddamn it, with my hand, numbnuts. Don’t pull my fucking hand over there. I said choke yourself. Now lean forward and choke yourself. Are you through grinning?
PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir.
HARTMAN: Bullshit, I can’t hear you.
PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir.
HARTMAN: Bullshit, I still can’t hear you. Sound off like you got a pair.
PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir.
HARTMAN: That is enough, get on your feet. Private Pyle, you had best square your ass away and start shitting me Tiffany cuff links or I will definitely fuck you up.
PYLE: Sir, yes, Sir.

— Full Metal Jacket (1987), screenplay by Stanley Kubrick, Michael Herr, and Gustav Hasford, based on a novel by Hasford

The Daily Dialogue theme for the week is profanity, suggested by JasperLamarCrab who also recommended Full Metal Jacket.

Trivia: Michael Herr, a very close friend of Stanley Kubrick, helped write much of the screenplay, particularly the part set in Vietnam. His contributions to the script are based largely on his own experiences as a reporter covering the war. Like Joker and Rafterman he was essentially freelance and allowed to travel anywhere in the country. Additionally, the scene where Joker and Rafterman watch the crazed gunner in the chopper machine-gun civilians is taken directly from “Dispatches”, Herr’s memoir of his experiences.

Dialogue On Dialogue: Commentary by JasperLamarCrab: “In his effort to break down the recruits’ (and the audience’s) psychological defenses and rebuild their (our) psyches to his liking, Sergeant Hartmann progresses from relatively straightforward obscenity and racism to vile, violent, and profane threats that are so shocking they’re borderline surreal.”