Original subtitles

I don't want him in this house.

Why are you doing this?

I can't take this anymore!

I can't take it anymore! I can't take it!

I do not care...

It's your fault.

- Just get him out of here! - He is your son!

Buzz off!

Sync and corrections by explosiveskull www.addic7ed.com

- Hello. - Fuck off!

Oh, shit!

- Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! - Are you okay?

My funny bone.

- Your funny what? - Bone.

Here.

Fucking liar!

Ignore it.

Wait.

Oi, mind the car!

Uh, good morning.

Could I please speak to Mrs. Mary Gale, my mother?

Uh, she's in Beaumont ward.

Thank you so much.

It was absolutely ridiculous.

You were shitting yourself.

He was coming towards you.

Ah, it's Kelly!

You're a skank! You're a skank! You're a skank!

You're a skank! You're a skank! You're a skank!

- Just fuck off, wanker! - Ooh!

Oi, Kelly, you been down to the STD clinic lately?

I heard you've been eating some really bad meat.

Pikey pikey meat!

Oh, Miss Newman! Miss Newman! How are you this morning, Miss?

I'm fine, thanks, Joel. How are you?

I'm good, thanks, Miss.

I, uh, I had a dream about you last night, Miss.

Oh, what's the matter?

You don't want to know what happened?

You're bad, man. You're nasty.

That's it. That's it.

Here. There you go.

Whitely!

There's broken glass in the car park.

It was you, wasn't it?

Why've you got to victimize me, sir?

You know you haven't got a shred of evidence.

I have several witnesses, actually.

- Who? - I don't need to tell you that.

Yes, you do, sir.

Come on. You're coming with me.

You want to get me alone, do you, sir?

Now!

Hey, Joel.

Unlucky, mate.

Oh!

Where's your kit, Tindall?

I'm ill, aren't I?

You don't look that ill to me.

I fucking am, aren't I?

Mind your language, Tindall.

Stop harassing me, then. I'm ill.

Vine! Whitely!

Boys! Put him down!

Whitely! Vine!

Give me that ball!

White...

If you want this back, you gotta stop mucking around.

Stop mucking around. Put him down, now.

Put him down. Put him down.

Vine, put him down!

Put him down!

You're such a horrible boyfriend.

When did you get so tall?

Like, three years ago, you were a midget.

What do you think, Fin, about all the nasty foreigners?

They should go home.

- Really? - Yeah.

And what about your dad in Tenerife?

He's working, isn't he?

He's a foreigner.

You can't be a foreigner if you're English.

Is that right?

Get off. Get off!

Hello, lover of my life, mother of some of my children.

You don't have to get up, Fin.

Where do you want to go?

Peru?

I want to go... there.

And... there.

Where else do you want to go?

China. And...

I want to go...

...there.

Tonga?

Right. Bedtime.

Come on.

- It's just the foxes. - What are they doing?

Fighting.

Maybe they're married.

Come on, then.

Okay.

Fuck.

Have you seen my cigarettes? Jake took them.

No.

On the one hand, you have Dickens

with his faith in the people.

Believing them to be oppressed by...

an unequal and exploitative society.

Jesus, sir! What have you been eating lately?

You don't smell so good.

Yeah, I can smell it from here, sir.

Uh, sit back down, Vine.

I'm gonna put my gum in the bin, aren't I?

Condemning both an education and a society

in which the working man and child have no outlet

for their imagination, for their creative...

expressive self.

Twat!

On the other hand, you have Golding!

What you learn about people from this book, hmm?

Ah! You cunt!

Get off the chair, Whitely!

It wasn't me. I didn't do nothing.

You should just shave it off now, sir.

It's half-gone already.

Base, savage, and cruel. Base, savage, and cruel.

Base, savage, and cruel.

Because I'm crazy!

Base, savage, and cruel. Base, savage, and cruel.

Base, savage, and cruel.

Do you need some Valium or something, sir?

I could probably get you some in.

Something that'll make this all much easier.

What?

What the fuck are you looking at?

What?

Base, savage, and cruel.

Golding presents human nature at its very heart

as base, savage, and cruel.

Right.

If any of you are actually interested

in passing this exam,

I suggest we try to read out loud.

Open your books, page 55.

I found them in the errand cupboard.

- Marlboro 20, please, mate. - Red one or white one, sir?

Uh, red one.

8.80, please.

Hey! Hey! He's with you?

- No, I'm not with him. - I saw you come in together.

I'm not fucking with him, all right?

Yes, you come in together! Hey! Come here!

What are you looking at?

Well, go on! Piss off!

What was that?

What did you just do?

Fuckin' nerve.

Still, it's a nice evening though, isn't it?

Yeah, a nice evening in this fucking shithole.

- Why don't you leave, bruv? - I'm going to.

You find out where your Dad went?

Canaries, got a building job.

The fuck are you doing here, then?

Haven't got the airfare, have I?

He wouldn't have ya if ya did.

Your Dad's a cunt.

Yeah.

- You know Dom Richards? - What about him?

He went to live with his sister in London.

Went up there last month.

Yeah, to sell drugs outside Harrods.

Yeah. Well, his sister was down here the other day.

He never turned up.

They don't know where he is.

Probably sniffing glue at Paddington Station.

With a note around his neck saying,

"Please look after this smackhead."

What?

You know, like Paddington Bear.

The fuck do I know about Paddington fucking Bear?

Is that what Mia reads you at bedtime or something?

Fuck off.

I'm gonna sign up.

- What? - Join the army.

I'm 16 in a month, gonna join.

Germany. My cousin's posted in Germany.

Tall, blonde thickies everywhere.

Beer, schnitzels, and strudels on tap.

- Shit-zel. - A bit rude.

At least, I got a plan, unlike you two losers.

- I've got a plan. - To do what?

Have as much sex as possible...

...and die young.

Same as Eddie's if you leave out the sex.

- Fuck off! - Fuck, yeah.

I'll tell you what.

Now, before you join up,

we'll have to Ketamine some girl to get you laid.

Yeah, fine.

As long as I don't have to take the Ketamine

and end up like you, Coachella every two minutes,

all pissin' jelly.

Who needs their bladder anyway?

Yeah, my bladder's fine, man.

Nothing a transplant won't fix.

Too bad they don't do brain transplants, innit, bro?

They do cock transplants, though. You'll be all right.

Oi, you've been looking, have ya?

It was on this program.

But they have to cut it off first.

- They completely sever it. - Shit, man.

They put your cock on ice,

while they cut out a little piece of your ass.

They stuff up your cock, stretch the skin over it,

and then reattach it.

You're so full of shit.

Yeah, I am, actually.

I'll go for a crap.

No sweat.

You know, my Dad used to say,

he didn't think he was his son.

He didn't look like Mum. He didn't look like Dad.

He didn't know where he came from.

Jake, you're drunk.

That's never stopped you before.

- I'm tired. I don't want to. - Stop being so fucking uptight.

I know you're awake.

Only because you woke me up.

Then, you should have gone to bed.

I'm sorry.

"A woman brings rabies to England."

Okay, give us a kiss.

I look after you, don't I?

Eh?

I'll always look after you, Mia.

Come here.

Don't answer it.

I haven't called her all week.

She sucks you dry, Mia. Let her drown in her own shit.

The new meds make her feel funny.

She's funny already, though, isn't she?

You have to eat something.

What are you, his fucking mother?

Fuck off, Jake.

I've been thinking... Happy birthday, little brother.

Here you go. It's your size. Try it on.

Did you get it?

I didn't know it. Jake didn't tell me.

What? He got it?

I didn't know.

I went into your room to check your size.

You know, all that shabby shit you wear...

There you go, now you can try something

that doesn't make you look like a dickhead.

You got it?

Go take the other shirt off,

you can't see it like that, you twat.

Come here.

See? It looks nice.

I can't wear it to school, can I?

Take it off, wear it later. I don't know.

Try to get yourself a boyfriend or something.

Fuck off!

What are you doing later? I'll take you out for a drink.

What?

You only want to be seen with your chavvy mates?

No. Okay, I'll come.

Good.

16!

Huh?

You know, you can sign off your own place now

and get a flat yourself.

- Jesus. - What?

You've got a house, haven't you?

If you're homeless.

- Shut up, Jake! - I'm not homeless, though.

Unless you are.

This place is in Dad's name, remember?

And I pay the rent, remember?

Oh, yeah? Well, big man you are,

with your fucking shitty job selling TVs.

- You little cunt. - Jake!

And don't you fucking come back!

Fin! Fin, I didn't know it was your birthday.

You know, Jake's right.

Just who the fuck do you think you are?

Why are you apologizing for not knowing my birthday?

You're nothing to me. Nothing!

For fuck's sake, Finley! Just go before he sees.

Right on the crotch. You're not doing it properly.

Oh, fuck! Don't land on me.

Jesus.

Her last name is Lees. Her surname name was Lees.

Oh, mate, that was ridiculous.

- Hey. - Nice bike.

- That's mine. - Come on, get off of it.

- That's mine. - Get off!

You cunt!

Fuckin'... Ah, nice one!

Souvenir. Souvenir.

We're done.

Fuckin' terr... Ow!

Ow!

Bastard!

Fuckin' hell, man! Fuckin' hell!

Fuckin' hell!

You gotta put them near me.

- What? How am I doin' it? - Put them fuckin' there!

I was puttin' them... Ow! I was putting them there.

You put 'em there!

All right. Let's...

- Oi, prick! - All right, go on, then.

Otherwise, we're going home.

All right! How do we do it? Go on!

All right, hold them fucking still.

What the fuck!

You can't do that! That's cheating!

Ow!

What? Just let you hit me?

Ow!

Go, then.

Fuckin' hell, man!

Go on, then.

Fuckin'...

Stop slapping me!

Ooh!

All right, Fin. Fucking hell, bruv.

Look, look...

Put your hands there, you pussy...

This... this isn't even how you play it, mate.

You can't do it with two!

You were goin' like that!

You're not supposed to go like that!

Do it proper.

It's a big fuck-off elephant in the room.

She's bang tighty and your brother's a cunt.

How'd you live with it?

I don't fancy her.

Yeah.

Well, she's with him, isn't she?

She's a fucking idiot.

You could always, you know...

be the shoulder to lean on.

Next time he's a cunt to her...

welcome her with open arms, and then, you know...

...slip it in.

- I'm not interested, mate. - Yeah?

Your brother would cave your fucking head in, as well.

What the fuck?

What's the inspiration, Tindall?

Inspiration is an abstract noun.

A noun that expresses something

that you can't hold in your hands.

Do you understand, Tindall?

No, wait. Let's... Let's backtrack.

I'm not even sure you know what a noun is.

Do you, Tindall?

Do you know what a noun is?

Cat. Dog.

Hammer.

Nail.

Nail gun.

Object.

Do you understand, Tindall?

Now, an abstract noun...

has no physical existence.

It can only be thought or felt.

Like love.

Hatred.

Happiness. Sadness.

Freedom.

Courage.

Hope.

Despair.

Justice.

Fear.

Do you understand, Tindall?

Excellent.

Now...

What does inspiration mean?

Ten seconds, Tindall.

Until I nail your right hand to the desk.

Inspiration.

I-N-S-P-I-R-A-T-I-O-N. Inspiration.

Ten seconds, until, as I say,

I nail your right hand to the desk.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six,

five, four, three, two...

Good, Tindall.

Well done.

Now, I'm going to remove the tape from your mouth, okay?

If you shout out or scream,

I shall hit you in the head again

with this iron, adjective, hammer, noun. Is that clear?

Excellent. I'm so glad.

Read the definition.

"The pro... process of being mentally..."

Stimulated.

"... stimulated to do or feel something."

"Especially, to do something creative,

i.e. flashes of inspiration."

Good! Good.

Now, look up "motivation".

M-O-T-I-V-A-T-I-O-N.

Ten seconds, Tindall.

Ten, nine, eight, seven,

six, five, four, three...

Good, Tindall. You're doing so well.

Proceed.

Read the definition.

"Motivation, the process that in...

- Initiates. - ..."initiates,

guides, and maintains goal-oriented behaviors."

Precisely.

Initiating, guiding,

and maintaining goal-oriented behaviors.

Look up "idealism".

I-D-E-A-L-I-S-M.

You have the gist. Ten seconds.

Ten, nine, eight, seven,

six, five, four...

Impressive!

Fast, Tindall.

Motivation. See?

Read it out.

"The beliefs that your ideals can be achieved often,

even when this does not seem likely to others."

Wonderful.

Your ideals being...

your aspirations towards something innocent,

something pure.

Your idealism being the belief that it can be achieved,

even if it does not seem likely to others.

Exactly how I must have appeared to my older colleagues

when I first started teaching 20 years ago.

What a wonderfully empathic description of the word. Hmm?

"Empathic," adjective, descriptive word of empathy.

Abstract noun.

Look up "empathy", Tindall.

Ten, nine, eight, seven,

six, five, four...

Good! Read it out.

"The power of understanding and ima..."

Imaginatively.

"...imaginatively entering into another person's feelings."

In other words,

putting yourself in someone else's shoes.

Ta-da!

So, a classroom of empathic,

adjective, descriptive word, children,

would have some ability to put themselves

in their teacher's shoes.

To imagine how it must feel for him or her

to face a bunch of sneering, hostile,

and apparently soulless adolescents,

day after day for 20 years.

To attempt to spark some flicker of...

...inspiration...

through some of the greatest writers ever known...

and to witness the relentless tide

of the worst in human behaviors,

ranging from indifference to animalistic aggression...

to physical abuse.

I was an idealist once.

I believed inspiration was the key to learning.

I had empathy for my students.

For the shortcomings of their upbringings.

For the miserable blankness

of their emotionally, intellectually,

and materially deprived circumstances.

20 years ago...

You see, I thought...

I thought if they'd encounter humanity,

they'd respond with humanity.

Do you know what Charles Lamb said?

He said, "Let us live the beauty of our own reality."

Do you know what he said to Wordsworth?

He said, "Have I not enough without your mountains?"

He was talking about the beauty he found in the ordinary.

In the streets of London.

In the urban deprivation that surrounded him.

The same urban deprivation that inspired William Blake

to write "Songs of Innocence and Experience."

I thought if I could just...

tap into this imagination...

these children could enter their surroundings imaginatively.

They'd see the beauty and the horror...

of the mundane, of the ordinary,

within the very four corners of their own existence.

The same imagination would lead them beyond it.

Into the world.

Do you know what I think now?

I think stupidity is in the genes.

Mr... Mr. Gale.

It's just that Joel looks quite bad.

Do you know what, Tindall?

I don't think you quite understand

the point of this class.

Pain!

Pain!

"Pain...

...is life."

"The sharper it is...

...the more evidence of life."

Charles Lamb.

It's better... it's better than I imagined.

Now, do you understand the point of this class?

Do you understand the point of this class?

Good.

Jean-Jacques Rousseau.

The forefather of modern child-centered education

and the Romantics, or should I say,

subjective individualism.

Subjective individualism.

A departure from the Enlightenment.

The Age of the Enlightenment.

The Enlightenment was a movement away

from religion and superstition,

hailed as the triumph of reason.

Marked by increasing empiricism.

And the belief that everything in the universe

was knowable through empirical observation.

Observation through our five physical senses.

Hearing, sight, taste, touch, smell...

combined with mental reasoning skills.

In other words, scientific experiment.

It was meant to be, as I say, a liberation

from the religious dogma and superstition

of the Middle Ages.

But it became, in turn, restrictive and reductive.

Reductive.

R-E-D-U-C-T-I-V-E.

Ten seconds, Tindall. Now, you've practiced...

Even with the inability of your right hand.

Ten, nine, eight, seven,

six, five, four, three, two...

One.

Ten... Ten...

"Tending to present a subject or problem

in a sim... simplified form."

Yes.

It was a movement that had no space in it for perception,

for the vast complexities of the human mind.

It dealt only in universal truths,

empirically observed.

All the same to all men.

"Your definition of a horse?"

Thomas Gradgrind asked Bitzer.

"40 teeth, namely 24 grinders, 4 eye-teeth, 12 incisive."

"Sheds its coat in the spring; in marshy countries,

sheds its hoofs, too."

"Hoofs hard, but requiring to be shod with iron."

"Age known by marks in mouth."

Is that it?

Is that all the horse is?

I might as well say you and Whitely here are bipeds

with opposable thumbs,

made of blood, bone, and gristle with...

slightly more complex set of synapses

than the average animal.

Nothing else.

Perhaps you are.

Perhaps you fucking are.

So, Rousseau's interest was in human perception.

Imagination became God.

He believed man was innocent and naturally good.

He said, "Man is born free, but everywhere he's in chains."

He wrote the first treatise on child-centered education.

Yet, curiously enough,

delivered all his children into orphanages.

That, dear Tindall, is irony.

But we'll come back to that.

"Man is born free, but everywhere he's in chains."

But what imprisons us?

Self-interest, greed, society?

What is society?

We fall from grace...

But how? Why?

The biblical metaphor, Adam and Eve,

made into an epic celebration of man's fall

in Milton's "Paradise Lost",

explains it as an inevitable flaw in God's plan

for us to have free will... in there.

Inside... evil... waiting.

Do you know what Blake said about Milton? Hmm?

He said, "The reason Milton wrote in fetters...

when he wrote of God and heaven,

and at liberty when he wrote about hell and devils,

was because he was a true poet,

and of the Devil's party, without knowing it."

Fetters.

Cuffs.

Bound.

The imagination bound...

bound by a religion,

that demands the repression of creative thought and passion.

In "Jane Eyre," Charlotte Bront� sublimates...

Sublimate.

S-U-B-L-I-M-A-T-E. Sublimate!

Ten seconds, Tindall!

Ten, nine, eight, seven,

six, five, four, three...

Divert...

"Divert the energy

"of an unacceptable feeling or impulse,

"especially a sexual one,

"into activities that are considered to be

socially more acceptable."

Exactly!

That Bront� sublimates...

Jane Eyre's adult rage and passion

into the mad and dangerous psychological double

Bertha Mason, the mad woman in the attic.

Milton's description of the devil becomes

more and more glamorous, more and more exciting, you see?

You see, the devil steals the show,

completely at odds with Milton's original intention,

whereas Bertha Mason is deprived a human voice.

Animalistic grunts and groans,

perhaps, revealing Bront�'s

own discomfort with her own sexual passion and rage.

As she's unable to fully... fully escape

the expectations of her cultural surroundings.

You see?

So... so uncontrollable feelings...

are so often repressed by society

because they're dangerous!

Because they threaten to uproot the deep foundations

of a society built to contain us as passive docile beings.

That, dear Tindall, is real, real evil!

The desire of some human beings to suppress the rest!

But where's it come from? Is it evil?

Huh?

Take away God,

take away the devil, from our creation.

And what is left?

What makes us good?

What makes us bad?

For Rousseau, it was when the first man duped others

into believing that he owned a piece of land.

Land ownership.

Is that ridiculous?

Who's to say I own this or you own that?

Nonsensical laws woven over centuries

to seduce us into believing

we own something over another man.

Feudalism.

Feudalism. Look it up, Tindall.

No, wait. I'll just spare you the effort.

Feudalism.

"The dominant social system in Medieval Europe,

in which the nobility..."

Thank you.

...held land from the crown

in exchange for military service."

Every bit of the country divided up...

and given to those who helped the King rise to the top.

Thank you.

By William Blake's time, when he wrote "London"...

every bit of the charted streets was carved up...

and owned by somebody.

Even the fucking river!

The charter'd Thames was owned by somebody.

"I wander through each charter'd street,

near where the charter'd Thames does flow."

"And mark in every face I meet

marks of weakness, marks of woe."

"In every cry of every man, in every infants cry of fear,

in every voice: in every ban,

the mind-forged manacles I hear."

William Blake.

"Songs of Innocence and Experience."

Mmm.

Manacles.

Shackles.

Handcuffs.

Mind-forged, made in there.

But for the Romantics and Dickens...

like Rousseau, we are born innocent.

Naturally good.

It is society...

and the complex chains of governance,

born out of greed,

that lead to oppression and injustice that corrupt us.

But what is society, except just many individuals?

We can't all be born innocent, pure, and good.

Where does greed and the desire to harm others come from?

Thomas Hobbes, "Leviathan."

Written during the English Civil War

between 1642 and 1651.

Before Milton wrote "Paradise Lost".

Like Milton, he believes in the natural state of evil,

in the Biblical instruction of inherent original sin.

But he goes further weaving original sin

into a comprehensive social strategy.

He states, "The life of man in its state of nature is..."

"Solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short."

He states that people need an absolute ruler

to control them.

Without one, there can be no peace.

And hereby is it manifest that during that time,

that man shall live without a common power

to keep them all in awe,

he shall live in that condition known as "war."

"And such a war as if of every man against every man."

A perfect analogy for my classroom.

Perfect comparison.

Still following, Tindall?

Splendid.

Mia, the door.

What?

The door.

Is it her?

For God's sake.

She's not here.

Sasha knows this great place, this restaurant.

It just opened up, in the middle of nowhere.

In the middle of this place.

Well, we say, "volkojebina," "where the wolves fuck."

- What would you say? - What?

Well, this area, this shit hole. How would you describe it?

I told you, she's not here.

Food is amazing!

Where is she? Mia?

What are you doing?

You can come if you want.

I can always pretend you're not there.

I'll put Sasha in the middle of us.

But you two will have so much to talk about.

Mia?

Fuck off.

I just want to see my daughter.

Why? So you can fuck her up again?

I'm doing really well,

it's not that it's any of your business.

I just want to talk to her.

I know she's here.

Mia?

Mia?

You fuck off, or I'll call the police, all right?

Yeah, I'd stay where you are, mate.

You see, we do things by the law in this country.

You can't intimidate me, you see?

Or I'll get you locked up, you fuckin' cunt.

He's not good for you!

What? And you are?

Okay.

Who's the one who got her taken away from her

by social services, you fucking mad bitch?

- I see you. I see what you are. - Yeah?

And everyone can see what you are.

Everyone in the whole fucking neighborhood, all right?

And I'm not gonna let you drag her down with you.

Off you go. Go on.

Or I'll dial 999 and get you down for harassment.

I'll... I'll come back another time.

Good. All right.

Drink.

So, to "Lord of the Flies", not a very complex novel.

A favorite on the GCSE syllabus for many years, as a result.

A simple allegory, like "Animal-fucking-Farm".

What's an allegory, Tindall?

A-L-L-E-G-O-R-Y.

Easy, at A. Ten seconds, Tindall.

Ten, nine, eight, seven,

six, five, four...

Excellent, Tindall.

Full marks for effort.

Read on.

"A story, poem, or picture, that reveals a hidden meaning,

typically a moral or political one."

Yes, "Animal Farm" is an allegory of totalitarianism.

Specifically, Stalinism.

Look up "totalitarianism", Tindall.

Seven seconds.

There's a challenge.

Seven, six, five, four,

three, two, one.

I don't know! I don't know how you spell it!

What have I done?

I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry.

My instinct is to pity you...

to give you another chance.

But you know what that leads to.

You're not learning this lesson.

Oh, fuck it!

Totalitarianism.

Totalitarianism.

Totalitarianism.

"A government, in which one leader

exercises total or centralized control."

So, in many ways, Thomas Hobbes

is the forefather of totalitarianism.

Do you see, Tindall?

The interesting about "Animal Farm" is

at the end of the novel,

the animals can't tell the difference between

the original human oppressors, the aristocracy,

and their new pig oppressors, Stalin,

whereas the film, allegedly funded by the CIA,

ends with the animals simply overthrowing

the evil commie pigs.

A fact not often stated.

But I digress.

To digress, verb.

Something you're doing. For example...

A hammer, noun.

To hammer, verb.

A nail gun, noun.

What is the verb?

Is it "to nail gun"?

Possibly.

Once again, I digress.

To veer away from the subject at hand.

At hand!

Anyway, back to "Lord of the Flies".

We now know it's an allegorical novel.

Allegorical, adjective, descriptive word of allegory.

You know what an allegory is, right, Tindall?

"Lord of the Flies" is an allegory of human society.

It asks the question free from religious indoctrination,

what are we human beings?

Are we born naturally good,

are we born blank, like a new page,

are we born with the natural predisposition

towards chaos, greed, and conflict?

Is evil something learned, or is it something achieved,

or is it a result of hardship, injustice, suffering?

It takes a group of children...

Yes, children, Tindall.

Yes.

And he places them in isolation on a desert island

free from civilization.

And all authority.

A bit like you and your friends, Tindall.

Can you guess what happens?

Guess what happens, Tindall.

All fucking hell breaks loose!

Fin?

Good morning, Whitely!

Sorry to trouble you with something

as trifling as education. Are you gonna join us?

Whitely? Oh, Whitely?

Who's a sleepyhead in class?

Archetype. A-R-C-H-E-T-Y-P-E.

Archetype! Ten seconds, Tindall!

Ten, nine, eight, seven,

six, five, four, three, two, one!

- "A very ty... ty..." - Typical.

"Typical example of a certain person or thing

recurrent as a symbol in literature, art, or myth..."

Mythology...

The main characters in "Lord of the Flies"

are archetypical characters.

Joel!

Joel!

I'd remember this, you two,

because you're going to be tested on it later.

"Archetypal", adjective, descriptive word of archetype.

And here they are!

Piggy.

Ralph.

Roger.

Simon.

Jack.

These characters are meant to symbolize

the most significant different qualities in humankind

and the main different values entrenched in our society.

Keep track, Tindall.

- Mm-hmm. - Are you quite sure?

What are you doing?

It's Fin.

He hasn't come home. He isn't answering his phone.

For fuck's sake.

He's your brother, Jake.

You really don't care about him at all?

Why is it you care so much, Mia?

That's more the question, isn't it?

What's that supposed to mean?

I don't know. What is it supposed to mean?

I gotta be up at 7:00 a.m. and work tomorrow,

I just told that mad bitch to fuck off...

Don't call her that.

And you're lying her with me,

thinking about my fucking brother?

He's still a kid, Jake.

Jesus Christ, you're working one Saturday in four,

and everybody has to know about it.

Yeah?

You don't like it, go fuck someone else.

Yeah?

Whatever, Jake.

You don't come running back if you go out that door.

For fuck's sake.

Hey, that's my coat.

By the way, someone has scratched your car.

What?

What the...?

Fuck.

Mia, come back.

Mia, I'm sorry, all right?

Hey.

Mia, hi.

Have you seen Fin?

Uh, no, I was at my Dad's. What's up?

When did you see him last?

Uh, a few hours ago. He was with Joel.

Have you got Joel's number?

Yeah. Why? What's going on?

Nothing. He just... They didn't come home.

Just wanna check he's okay.

What are you, his fucking mother?

Just call him, will you?

It went to voicemail on it.

Fin's did as well.

Shit, where would they go?

Fuck knows! Wish they'd told me.

This place is as dead as the fucking underworld,

isn't it?

Something feels wrong. Something feels bad.

Right. Well, I'm going home.

You're welcome to join me.

You don't give a shit, do you?

The question is, why do you?

You know where I am if you need me.

Stop!

Mia!

Fin, what the fuck is going on?

I know you, don't I?

From last year, or two years ago.

You came for the last few years of school from somewhere,

didn't you?

Look at you now.

You've come a long way

since you let your education slip off your skin.

As easily as you allowed your makeup

to slip onto other boys' shirts, I'm sure.

Let's see, if you can learn something now, hmm?

Now, where was I?

Jack!

Jack represents human beings

without the enforceable laws of civilization.

Lawlessness, savagery, and a thirst to control others.

Jack represents Leviathan.

Hobbes' natural state of man.

But Roger...

Now, remember this... Roger's often overlooked.

Roger is the group's natural sadist.

He is the one free from the controls of normal society,

best able to fulfill his potential as bully,

torturer, killer.

I'd say you were a Roger, Whitely,

if the tables were turned.

And here we come to the most important abstract noun

in literature,

perhaps, in life.

Irony.

Read it!

Read it.

I found the place in the dictionary for you.

Now, fucking read it, Whitely!

Ten, nine, eight, seven...

Irony.

"An expression or situation marked by deliberate contrast

between apparent and intended meaning."

Meat... meat with thumbs!

Oh, God.

No!

No!

If you scream, I'll kill you. Is that clear?

The fact that I appear to be torturing you,

and yet, I accuse Whitely of being a sadist...

could be construed as irony.

And let me tell you something.

I'm not a natural sadist.

I could spot the sadists.

The special look they had.

The void.

Blank.

Empty.

I've got over 50,000 pounds worth

of first editions at home.

I'd give them all...

all of them...

just to see one child

with an open mind and open heart be inspired.

The irony in "Lord of the Flies"

stems from the fact...

that the boys escape the terrible

and yet seemingly righteous war that the adults are waging...

and find themselves in a beautiful place.

But their basic natures end up taking over,

and they end up at war.

Do you know what William Golding's

profession was, Tindall?

Can you guess?

He was a school teacher.

Right.

It's time for a test.

I'm afraid this is mostly for you, Tindall,

as Whitely here is incapacitated, and, um...

Mmm. I know it's a foreign name.

Vukovic!

Vukovic here has missed a chunk of the class

through no fault of her own.

Are you ready? Good!

- What's a noun? - Ob... ob... object.

Excellent.

What's an abstract noun? Ten, nine, eight, seven...

Have a feel... thinking something.

Not quite. Five, four...

Feelings, ideas, concepts.

Roughly, yes, roughly.

Next, define an ideal.

Third nail, Tindall. Now, remember...

Ten, nine, eight...

Something... something perfect.

No, not really.

Something seems perfect, something to look up to.

Will do.

What's idealism?

Uh, believing you can get the perfect thing,

even when others don't think you can.

Empathy?

Putting yourself in someone else's shoes.

Allegory?

A story... a story with a hidden meaning.

Totalitarianism?

Ten, nine, eight, seven,

six, five, four, three, two, one...

I don't fucking know!

I don't know!

"O, Rose, thou art sick."

"The invisible worm, that flies in the night

"through the howling storm

"has found out thy bed of crimson joy.

And his dark secret love does thy life destroy."

Totalitarianism.

Ten seconds, Tindall,

before I put this nail in her head.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six...

One person having total control, running everyone. Dictator!

Archetype?

Symbolic of a type, a kind of person or thing.

What did Thomas Hobbes say about the life of a man?

"Nasty, brutish, and short."

Who wrote the first treatise in child-centered education?

Jean-Jacques Rousseau.

"In every cry of every man, in every infant's cry of fear,

in every voice: in every ban..."

"The mind-forg'd manacles I hear."

William Blake, London,

"Songs of Innocence and Experience,"

circa 1794.

The chart'd streets and the chart'd Thames

refer to what, what does it mean?

Everything that was divided up by the rich.

- Who wrote "Hard Times"? - Dickens!

- "Leviathan"? - Hobbes! Thomas Hobbes!

Who wrote to Wordsworth,

"Have I not enough without your mountains?"

Charles Lamb.

- Who wrote "Paradise Lost"? - Milton.

What did William Blake say about Milton?

That... that he was a poet of the devil's side

but didn't know it!

Tindall, you're... you're a fucking genius!

Milton sublimated his own rage and passion without realizing it

in his the depiction of the devil.

Who did Charlotte Bront� sublimate Jane Eyre's

- ...passion into? - Wordsworth.

You obviously did not understand the question.

Jane Eyre learns to repress her feelings at an early age.

But Charlotte Bronte finds an outlet

for the expression of female rage and passion where?

I don't know! Please, stop!

You know it! You know it! Ten, nine, eight...

Please!

I can't think!

...seven, six, five, four...

Bertha!

What did she say?

- Bertha. - What did you say?

Bertha-fucking-Mason!

She said... She said, "Bertha"...

She said, "Bertha Mason"!

Mia? Mia? Fuck! Mia?

She must have learned it in class!

She must have picked it up!

She used to look at me like I was

a piece of shit on her trainers,

but she listened!

She must have listened!

What are you gonna do, Tindall?

The fuck! Shut the fuck up!

You're bright, you see?

- I always knew it! - Shut the fuck up!

- Let me get the keys. - No, no fucking way!

Then, we're stuck here.

Someone... someone will come.

She's bleeding badly.

Let me get the keys.

Why the fuck would you get me the keys?

I give you my word.

Look what you've done here today,

how accurate your recall was.

No one's ever seen it before, have they?

Your intelligence.

Why didn't you show it before, Finley?

Just once.

Just a spark of what you've shown here today

in the classroom.

All this could have been avoided.

You're not a killer, Finley.

Just one thing.

I'm left-handed.

Meat!

Meat with opposable thumbs, remember?

You taught me that!

Now! Now, you're just meat!

Fucking cunting bastard!

Get me the keys, unlock me,

and I'll give you your thumbs back.

Get to a hospital in time,

and they might just be able to stitch them back on.

It's a miracle what they can do nowadays.

The nerves die the longer you leave it!

Mia!

Wake the fuck up, Mia!

Only the educated are free.

Mia, where's the blanket? I'm cold.

What the fuck?

Get out.

What?

Get the fuck out!

Fuck.

Have you got an anniversary coming up Chris?

I certainly have, thank you very much.

There's only 20 of these pieces left and, uh...

I think you should snap them up.

I mean, look how the necklace is, uh...

It really compliments the earrings.

...something wrong, you wanna make it up to her.

I hope you're not talking about yourself, Chris.

Oh, certainly not. Certainly not.

I'll be picking up one of these for my wife anyway.

You're not the kind of man

that forgets an anniversary, are you?

Certainly not, but if you are...

get your credit cards out and get on the phone now

to pick up one of these one-time-special-only pieces.

Here's the number on the screen, guys.

I thought you were gonna sell that one.

I want to keep it.

Do you want anything?

Yes.

So...

What's it all about, huh?

Sync and corrections by explosiveskull www.addic7ed.com