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Do You Know That Your Dead

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Full Metal Jacket is a 1987 film that follows a group of recruits through Marine preparation and their tour of duty in Vietnam.

Written and directed by Stanley Kubrick, based on the novel The Brusque-Timers by Gustav Hasford.

In Vietnam, the wind doesn't blow. Information technology sucks. taglines

Today, you people are no longer maggots. Today, y'all are Marines. You're role of a brotherhood. From now on, until the day yous die, wherever you lot are, every Marine is your brother. Most of you will go to Vietnam. Some of you will non come back. But ever recall this: Marines die. That's what we're here for. But the Marine Corps lives forever and that means y'all live forever.

The deadliest weapon in the world is a Marine and his rifle. It is your killer instinct which must be harnessed if you expect to survive in gainsay. Your burglarize is simply a tool. Information technology is a hard heart that kills. If your killer instincts are not clean and strong, you will hesitate at the moment of truth. Yous will not kill. You will become dead Marines. Then y'all volition be in a world of shit. Because Marines are not allowed to dice without permission!

These are neat days we're living, bros. We are jolly green giants, walking the Earth with guns. These people we wasted here today are the finest human being beings we will ever know. After we rotate dorsum to the world, nosotros're gonna miss not having anyone around that's worth shooting.

I am so happy that I am alive, in one piece and brusque. I'm in a world of shit. Yes. Only I am alive. And I am not afraid.

Dialogue [edit]

Hartman: I am Gunnery Sergeant Hartman, your senior drill teacher. From now on, you volition speak but 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 yous. Sound off like you lot got a pair.
Recruits: SIR, YES, SIR!
Hartman: If yous ladies leave my island, if you survive recruit grooming, you will be a weapon. You lot volition exist a minister of death, praying for war. But until that twenty-four hour period, you are pukes. You are the everyman form of life on Globe. You are not even human fucking beings. Yous are aught simply unorganized, take hold of-asstic pieces of amphibian shit. Because I am hard, you lot volition not like me. Only the more yous hate me, the more yous volition acquire. I am hard simply I am fair. There is no racial bigotry here. I practise not look down on niggers, kikes, wops, or greasers. Hither, y'all 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!
Joker: [under his breath, imitating John Wayne] Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me?
Hartman: [hearing him] Who said that? Who the fuck said that?! [crossing toward Joker'due south end of the barracks] Who's the slimy niggling Communist shit twinkle-toed cocksucker downward here who just signed his own death warrant? Nobody, huh? The fairy fucking godmother said it. Out-fucking-standing. I volition PT you lot all until you fucking die! I'll PT you until your assholes are sucking buttermilk! [to Cowboy] Was it you, you scroungy little fuck, huh?!
Cowboy: Sir, no, sir!
Hartman: Y'all little piece of shit, you look like a fucking worm! I'll bet information technology was you!
Cowboy: Sir, no, sir!
Joker: Sir, I said it, sir!
Hartman: Well, no shit. What take nosotros got here? A fucking comedian. Private Joker. I adore your honesty. Hell, I like you. Y'all tin come up over to my house and fuck my sister. [punches Joker in the gut; he falls to his knees] You niggling scumbag! I got your name! I got your ass! Y'all will not laugh! You will not cry! You will learn by the numbers! I will teach you! Now get upwardly! Get on your feet! [Joker does so] Yous had best un-fuck yourself, or I will unscrew your head and shit down your neck!
Joker: Sir, yep, sir!
Hartman: Private Joker, why did you join my beloved Corps?
Joker: Sir, to kill, sir!
Hartman: So you're a killer.
Joker: Sir, yeah, sir!
Hartman: Let me see your state of war face.
Joker: Sir?
Hartman: You got a war face? [gives a fierce yell] That'southward a war face up! Now allow me see your war face! [Joker gives one with a non-so-convincingly-violent yell] Bullshit! Yous didn't convince me. Let me run across your real war face! [Joker gives a louder, more convincing trigger-happy yell, but Hartman is not impressed] You don't scare me. Work on it.
Joker: Sir, yes, sir!
Hartman: What's your alibi?
Cowboy: Sir, alibi for what, sir?
Hartman: I'm asking the fuckin' questions here, Private! Do yous understand?
Cowboy: Sir, aye, sir!
Hartman: Well, thank you very much! Tin 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 brand you nervous?
Cowboy: Sir!
Hartman: "Sir" what? Are you almost to call me an asshole?
Cowboy: Sir, no, sir!
Hartman: How alpine are yous, Private?
Cowboy: Sir, 5-human foot-9, sir!
Hartman: V-foot-nine? I didn't know they stacked shit that loftier! You trying to squeeze an inch in on me somewhere, huh?!
Cowboy: Sir, no, sir!
Hartman: Bullshit! It looks to me similar the best part of you ran down the fissure of your mama's donkey and ended upwardly as a dark-brown stain on the mattress! I call back you've been cheated! Where in the hell are you lot from anyway, Individual?
Cowboy: Sir, Texas, sir!
Hartman: Holy dogshit! Texas? Merely steers and queers come up from Texas, Private Cowboy, and you don't much expect like a steer to me, and 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'll bet you're the kinda guy that would fuck a person in the ass, and not even take the goddamn mutual courtesy to give him a attain-around. I'll be watching you.
Hartman: Left shoulder, hut! [Lawrence briefly hikes his burglarize to his correct shoulder and corrects himself, merely Hartman notices the mistake, and angrily marches to him] Private Pyle, what are you lot trying to exercise to my beloved Corps?!
Lawrence: Sir, I don't know, sir!
Hartman: You are impaired, Private Pyle, just exercise you wait me to believe that you don't know left from right?!
Lawrence: Sir, no, sir!
Hartman: Then you did that on purpose; You lot wanna be different!
Lawrence: Sir, no, sir!
Hartman: [slaps Private Lawrence's left cheek] What side was that, Private Pyle?
Lawrence: Sir, left side, sir!
Hartman: Are you sure, Private Pyle?!
Lawrence: Sir, aye, sir!
Hartman: [slaps Private Lawrence's correct cheek; knocking his cover off] What side was that, Private Pyle?!
Lawrence: [barely holding it together] Sir, right side, sir!
Hartman: Don't fuck with me again, Pyle! Pick up your fuckin' comprehend.
Lawrence: Sir, aye, sir!
Hartman: Tonight, you pukes will sleep with your rifles. You will give your rifle a girl'due south name, because this is the only pussy you people are going to get. Your days of finger-banging sometime Mary Jane Rottencrotch through her purty pink panties are over! You're married to this slice, this weapon of atomic number 26 and wood. And yous will be true-blue! Port, hut! [Recruits take hold of their rifles] Prepare to mountain! [Recruits step back towards their bunks.] Mount! [Recruits apace hop onto their bunks] Port, hut! [Recruits grab their rifles and agree them upwards] Pray!
Recruits: [simultaneously] This is my rifle. There are many like information technology, just this one is mine. My rifle is my best friend. It is my life. I must principal information technology as I must master my life. Without me, my rifle is useless. Without my rifle, I am useless. I must fire my burglarize true. I must shoot straighter than my enemy who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will. Earlier God I swear this creed: My rifle and myself are defenders of my land. We are the masters of our enemy. We are the saviors of my life. So be it, until there is no enemy, but peace. Amen.
Hartman: Society, hut! [Recruits lay their rifles at their sides] At ease! [shuts the lights off] Proficient night, ladies.
Recruits: Practiced night, sir!
Hartman: [to Night Watchman] Hitting it, sweetheart.
Nighttime Watchman: Sir, yep-aye, sir!
Hartman: Adjacent ii privates, go! Quickly! [To Lawrence equally he struggles on an obstacle course] Go your fat ass over there, Private Pyle. Oh, that's correct, Private Pyle. Don't make any fucking effort to get up to the top of the fucking obstruction! If God wanted you lot up in that location, He would've miracled your ass up there by now, wouldn't he?
Lawrence: Sir, aye, sir!
Hartman: Become your fat donkey upward at that place, Pyle!
Lawrence: Sir, yep, sir!
Hartman: What the Hell is the thing with you anyway? I'll bet you if there was some pussy upwards there on elevation of that obstacle...
Lawrence: [falling off again] Shit!
Hartman: ...you could become upward there, couldn't y'all?
Lawrence: Sir, yep, sir!
Hartman: Your ass looks like well-nigh 150 pounds of chewed bubble glue, Pyle! You know that?
Lawrence: Sir, yes, sir!
Hartman: [To Privates Joker and Cowboy] Every bit presently as you lot finish your bunks, I want you two turds to clean the head.
Joker & Cowboy: Sir, aye-aye, sir!
Hartman: I want that head and then germ-free and squared away that the Virgin Mary herself would be proud to go in at that place and take a dump.
Joker & Cowboy: Sir, yes, sir!
Hartman: Private Joker, do you believe in The Virgin Mary?
Joker: Sir, no, sir!
Hartman: Well, Individual Joker, I don't believe I heard you correctly.
Joker: Sir, the private said "No, sir," sir!
Hartman: Why, you fiddling maggot; You brand me wanna vomit! [Slaps Joker across the confront] You Goddamn communist pagan. Yous had best sound off that you love The Virgin Mary, or I'm gonna stomp your guts out! At present, you lot do love The Virgin Mary, don't you?
Joker: Sir, negative, sir!
Hartman: Private Joker, are y'all trying to offend me?
Joker: Sir, negative, sir! Sir, the private believes that whatsoever reply he gives volition be wrong, and the Senior Drill Teacher will beat him harder if he reverses himself, sir!
Hartman: Who'southward your squad leader, scumbag?
Joker: Sir, the private'south squad leader is Private Snowball, sir!
Hartman: Private Snowball!
Snowball: Sir, Private Snowball reporting as ordered, sir!
Hartman: Private Snowball, y'all're fired. Private Joker is promoted to team leader.
Hartman: [inspecting recruits' finger/toenails, as they stand on their footlockers] Trim 'em. Toe jam. Pop that blister. [sees Lawrence's footlocker is non secured] Jesus H. Christ. Private Pyle, why is your footlocker unlocked?!
Lawrence: Sir, I don't know, sir!
Hartman: Private Pyle, if there is one matter in this world that I hate, it is an unlocked footlocker! Yous know that, don't you?!
Lawrence: Sir, yes, sir!
Hartman: If it wasn't for dickheads like you, there wouldn't exist whatever thievery in this world, would there?!
Lawrence: Sir, no, sir!
Hartman: Become Downward! [Lawrence steps down; Hartman opens the footlocker] Well, now! Allow's just see if there'south anything missing! [rummages through information technology; finds a jelly donut] Holy Jesus. What is that? What the fuck is that? [holds it up in Lawrence's face] WHAT IS THAT, Private PYLE?!
Lawrence: Sir, a jelly donut, sir!
Hartman: A jelly donut?!
Lawrence: Sir, yeah, sir!
Hartman: How did it get here?
Lawrence: Sir, I took it from the mess hall, sir!
Hartman: Is chow immune in the barracks, Private Pyle?
Lawrence: Sir, no, sir!
Hartman: Are you allowed to eat jelly donuts, Private Pyle?
Lawrence: Sir, no, sir!
Hartman: And why non, Private Pyle?
Lawrence: Sir, because I'm likewise heavy, sir!
Hartman: Because y'all are a disgusting fat trunk, Private Pyle!
Lawrence: Sir, yes, sir!
Hartman: Then why did you hide a jelly donut in your footlocker, Private Pyle?
Lawrence: Sir, considering I was hungry, sir!
Hartman: Because you were hungry? [pacing the barracks, yet holding the donut] Private Pyle has dishonored himself and dishonored the platoon! I take tried to assist him, merely I take failed! I accept failed because y'all have not helped me! Y'all people take non given Individual Pyle the proper motivation! And so, from at present on, whenever Private Pyle fucks up, I will not punish him! I volition punish all of you! And the fashion I encounter it, ladies, you owe me for one jelly doughnut! Now go on your faces! [to Lawrence] Open your rima oris! [Lawrence does and so and Hartman shoves the doughnut into his mouth] They're payin' for it, you eat information technology! [to recruits] Fix, exercise!
Recruits beside Pyle: [doing button-ups] 1-2-iii-four! I love Marine Corps! 1-two-3-4! I love Marine Corps! 1-ii-iii-4! I dear Marine Corps! 1-two-3-4! I beloved Marine Corps! 1-2-3-4!
Hartman: [referring to Lee Harvey Oswald and Charles Whitman] Do any of y'all people know where these individuals learned how to shoot? [Joker raises his paw] Private Joker?
Joker: [stands up] Sir, in the Marines, sir!
Hartman: [impressed] In the Marines! Outstanding! Those individuals showed what ane motivated Marine and his rifle can do! And before yous ladies leave my island, yous will all be able to do the same thing!
Joker: [narrating] Our terminal night on the island. I draw fire watch.
[Joker goes into the head to find Private Lawrence sitting on a head with his rifle and loading rounds into a magazine]
Lawrence: [smiles eerily] Hiii... Joker.
Joker: [alarmed] Are those... live rounds?
Lawrence: Seven-six-two millimeter. Full metallic jacket.
Joker: [shaken] Leonard... if Hartman comes in hither and catches us... we'll both be in a globe of shit.
Lawrence: I AM... in a earth... of shit! [loads the last round into the mag and begins drilling loudly] Left shoulder, hut! Correct shoulder, hut! Lock and load! [inserts magazine into the rifle, chambers a round] Order, hut! [smartly brings the rifle downward to the "club artillery" position] This is my burglarize! There are many like it but this 1 is mine! My rifle is my best friend! It is my life!
[Other recruits wake up; Hartman storms out of his bedchamber]
Hartman: [to recruits] Become back in your bunks!
Lawrence: I must main information technology as I must primary my life! Without me, my burglarize is useless!
Hartman: [storms into the head] What is this Mickey Mouse shit?! What in the proper name of Jesus H. Christ are you animals doing in my head?! [to Joker] Why is Private Pyle out of his bunk after lights-out?! Why is Private Pyle belongings that weapon?! Why aren't you stomping Private Pyle'southward guts out?!
Joker: Sir, it is the private'southward duty to inform the senior drill instructor that Private Pyle has a full mag and has locked and loaded, sir!
Hartman: [calmly and sternly, to Lawrence] Now, you mind to me, Private Pyle, and yous listen proficient. I want that weapon, and I want it now. You will place that rifle on the deck at your anxiety and stride back away from it. [Lawrence insanely and eerily smiles, and aims at Hartman's chest] [angrily bellowing] WHAT IS YOUR MAJOR MALFUNCTION, NUMBNUTS?! DIDN'T MOMMY AND DADDY SHOW Yous Enough ATTENTION WHEN You WERE A CHILD?! [shoots and kills him, so swings the butt slowly up toward Joker]
Joker: Easy, Leonard. Go easy, human being. [Lawrence lowers it, sits on a head, and puts the muzzle in his mouth] [alarmed] NO!! [Lawrence pulls the trigger, killing himself and splattering his brains across the wall]
Da Nang Hooker: Hey, baby. You got girlfriend Vietnam?
Joker: Not just this infinitesimal.
Hooker: Well, babe, me and so horny. Me so horny! Me love you long time. You party?
Joker: Yes, we might party. How much?
[Helicopter Door Gunner opens fire, and Rafterman is uncomfortably nauseous]
Door Gunner: Get some! Go some! [continues firing] Get some! Become some! Yeah! Aye! Get some! Get some! Come on! Come on! [continues firing] Get some! [continues firing] Ha-ha! Get some, babe! Go some! Go some! Go some! Get some! Get some! Come on! Get it! Come on! Get some! Get some! Yep-yes-yep! I've got you, mother! [stops firing] Ha-ha! [looks at Joker and Raftman] Anyone who runs is a VC! Anyone who stands still is a well-disciplined VC! [laughs] You guys oughta do a story about me sometime!
Joker: Why should nosotros practise a story about y'all?!
Door Gunner: 'Cause I'grand so fuckin' good! That ain't no shit, neither! I've done got me 157 expressionless gooks killed. And 50 water buffaloes, too! Them're all certified!
Joker: Whatever women or children?!
Door Gunner: Sometimes!
Joker: How can you shoot women and children?!
[Rafterman gags in disgust]
Door Gunner: Piece of cake! Yous just don't lead 'em then much! [laughs] Ain't war Hell?
Colonel: Marine, what is that button on your body armor?
Joker: A peace symbol, sir.
Colonel: Where'd you get it?
Joker: I don't remember, sir.
Colonel: What is that you lot've got written on your helmet?
Joker: "Born to impale", sir.
Colonel: You write "built-in to kill" on your helmet, and you wear a peace button. What's that supposed to be, some kind of sick joke?
Joker: No, sir.
Colonel: What is it supposed to mean?
Joker: I don't know, sir.
Colonel: You lot don't know very much, practice y'all?
Joker: No, sir.
Colonel: You better become your head and your ass wired together, or I will take a behemothic shit on y'all.
Joker: Yes, sir.
Colonel: Now answer my question, or you'll be continuing alpine before the man.
Joker: I call up I was trying to suggest something nearly the duality of man, sir.
Colonel: The what?
Joker: The duality of man; The Jungian thing, sir.
Colonel: Whose side are you on, son?
Joker: Our side, sir.
Colonel: Don't you love your country?
Joker: Yes, sir.
Colonel: Then how 'bout getting with the program? Why don't you jump on the team and come up on in for the large win?
Joker: Yeah, sir.
Colonel: Son, all I've ever asked of my Marines is for them to obey my orders as they would the give-and-take of God. We are hither to help the Vietnamese, because inside every gook, there is an American trying to leave. It's a hard-ball world, son. We've gotta try to continue our heads until this peace craze blows over.
Joker: [salutes] Yep-yes, sir.

Taglines [edit]

  • In Vietnam, the air current doesn't blow. Information technology sucks.
  • Vietnam can kill me, but it can't make me care.

Bandage [edit]

  • Matthew Modine - Individual Joker / J.T. Davis
  • Vincent D'Onofrio - Private Gomer Pyle / Leonard Lawrence
  • R. Lee Ermey - Gunnery Sergeant Hartman
  • Adam Baldwin - Creature Mother
  • Dorian Harewood - Private Eightball
  • Arliss Howard - Private Cowboy
  • Kevyn Major Howard - Rafterman
  • Ed O'Ross - Lieutenant Touchdown / Walter J. Schinoski
  • John Terry - Lieutenant Lockhart
  • Kieron Jecchinis - Crazy Earl
  • Kirk Taylor - Payback
  • Peter Edmund - Individual Snowball
  • Tim Colceri - Doorgunner
  • Gil Kopel - Stork

External links [edit]

Wikipedia

  • Full Metallic Jacket quotes
  • Full Metal Jacket quotes at the Net Flick Database
  • Full Metal Jacket at Rotten Tomatoes

olsonmdlisives.blogspot.com

Source: https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Full_Metal_Jacket

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