You Are My Friend

Discussion in 'Politics & Religion' started by Babak, Jan 9, 2003.

  1. Babak


    You may know that recently Vinny Gigante (aka and I exchanged some rather harsh words. As this not becoming of two traders (well...of a trader and someone who buys signals) I would like to throw down the gauntlet or the gloves or whatever the appropriate allegory is in this situation and offer him the olive branch/twig of peace.

    With this in mind I have laboured for a few hours in HTML land and at no small expense made a website to glorify our newfound friendship and brotherhood.

  2. And I thought I had too much extra time on my hands....
  3. Nicely done.....pray tell the time involved in its creation and the difficulty (I would like to do something similar, but not for use on ET).

    Thanks for the laugh. :)
  4. Babak


    Well hapaboy, the process is rather arduous. You better go to Borders and get a few copies of HTML, XTML and C+++++ as well as Java and VB. Then clear your schedule because this one project will take up atleast ......

    ....3 seconds.

    Type in:

    http://[first name].[last name]

    Of course you have to remove the square brackets and no spacing. Now wasn't that worth it?!?
  5. trdrmac


    That made me weepy, I need a hug.
  6. (Sweating) Wow Babak, that sure took a hell of a lot out of me. It was worth all the pain and suffering, though, to become an honest-to-God computer programmer! Yeah baby! :p

    Now, how about some similarly arduous trading strategies?
  7. I.. I... I just don't know what to say.

  8. Babak


  9. Seated in front of the Don's desk is an undertaker named Amerigo Bonasera (Salvatore Corsitto), speaking in a heavy accent [Vito Corleone's wife is god-mother to Bonasera's daughter]. Bonasera desperately pleads for a favor - proper vengeful "justice" (rather than American justice) for the threatened near-rape and brutal beating suffered by his daughter (whom he raised "in the American fashion") by her non-Italian boyfriend and his friend. The two brutes had received a court date and only a suspended sentence:

    I believe in America. America has made my fortune. And I raised my daughter in the American fashion. I gave her freedom, but - I taught her never to dishonor her family. She found a boyfriend, not an Italian...Two months ago, he took her for a drive, with another boyfriend. They made her drink whiskey. And then they tried to take advantage of her. She resisted. She kept her honor. So they beat her like an animal...She was the light of my life - my beautiful girl. Now she will never be beautiful again...I-I went to the police like a good American. These two boys were brought to trial. The judge sentenced them to three years in prison - suspended sentence. Suspended sentence! They went free that very day! I stood in the courtroom like a fool. And those two bastards, they smiled at me. Then I said to my wife, 'for justice, we must go to Don Corleone.'

    In the underlit office (masterfully photographed), American justice has failed. Ostensibly, the Don is a gentle, restrained, 62 year old aging man, sitting behind his study's desk. His face has a bulldog appearance with padded cheeks, and he speaks with a high-pitched, hoarse, raspy, gutteral mumbling accent. On his lap is a cat whose head he lovingly and gently strokes. Although he moves stiffly, he wields enormous lethal power as he determines the dispensation of real justice - who will be punished and who will be favored. He is upset that the funeral director Bonasera hasn't asked for a favor earlier, although he now asks for murderous revenge (instead of justice). The Don promises justice - and then asks for a return favor as a friend:

    Corleone: Why did you go to the police? Why didn't you come to me first?
    Bonasera: What do you want of me? Tell me anything, but do what I beg you to do.
    Corleone: What is that? (Bonasera whispers his request in the Don's ear.) That I cannot do.
    Bonasera: I will give you anything you ask.
    Corleone: We've known each other many years, but this is the first time you ever came to me for counsel or for help. I can't remember the last time that you invited me to your house for a cup of coffee, even though my wife is godmother to your only child. But let's be frank here. You never wanted my friendship. And uh, you were afraid to be in my debt.
    Bonasera: I didn't want to get into trouble.
    Corleone: I understand. You found paradise in America, you had a good trade, you made a good living. The police protected you and there were courts of law. And you didn't need a friend like me. But uh, now you come to me and you say - 'Don Corleone, give me justice.' But you don't ask with respect. You don't offer friendship. You don't even think to call me Godfather. Instead, you come into my house on the day my daughter is to be married, and you, uh, ask me to do murder for money.
    Bonasera: I ask you for justice.
    Corleone: That is not justice. Your daughter is still alive.
    Bonasera: Let them suffer then, as she suffers. How much shall I pay you?
    Corleone (after standing and turning his back): Bonasera, Bonasera. What have I ever done to make you treat me so disrespectfully? If you'd come to me in friendship, then this scum that ruined your daughter would be suffering this very day. And if by chance an honest man like yourself should make enemies, then they would become my enemies. And then they would fear you.
    Bonasera: Be my friend - - Godfather. (The Don shrugs. Bonasera bows toward the Don and kisses the Don's hand.)
    Corleone: Good. (The Don puts his hand on Bonasera's shoulder.) Someday, and that day may never come, I'll call upon you to do a service for me. But uh, until that day - accept this justice as a gift on my daughter's wedding day.
    Bonasera: Grazie, Godfather.
    Corleone: Prego.
  10. [​IMG]
    #10     Jan 12, 2003