History Quotes / FarCry2

'''Jackal:''' It's a romantic notion that they all [[TheGreatPoliticsMessUp came out of the Soviet Union after the collapse]]; that was a windfall back in '89, maybe through '91... but that's all over. I move weapons, I profit from circulation; you get a ceasefire in Liberia, both sides disarm, you think they slag two thousand tons of guns? No. They sell them to me. I resell them wherever the next war is starting. \\

->''Dear Jackal, your Georgian friend Gurgenidze, he didn't say much - [[{{Fingore}} even when I started cutting off fingers]]. I realized afterwards that the oil on his PKM still had that new gun smell, so I know you're selling them. Now I've got to figure out where does one hide a hundred tons of guns during total anarchy?''

->''Dear Jackal, if it's not fear that makes them loyal - [[MoneyDearBoy it must be money, correct]]? Your Frenchman turned out to be quite the Anarcho-capitalist. He's been moving guns back and forth like a broker shuffling hedge funds. If any man had a price, you'd think it would be Pierre - but he just wouldn't accept any of my offers to sell you out.''

->'''Jackal:''' Saw this kid on the side of the road yesterday, couldn't have been eighteen, seventeen. Had a shotgun across his lap, and a dead APR half in the ditch next to him. Couple of close range blasts with that 12 gauge tore out [[BodyHorror big chunks of hamburger on his torso]]. Kid was lifting up the guy's leg, taking his boots. Kid just looked tired, just beaten down, ragged, tired... [[OlderThanTheyLook old]]... Kid that age, shouldn’t look like that.

->'''Jackal:''' I’ll tell you what's sick. People in the UK, in the US, fucking Canada, Sweden. They pay their taxes and some remote piloted drone fires a missile into a public market to hit some warlord. Yeah, so maybe war doesn’t happen for another six months, and the price of their gluten-free sorghum bread stays low. It’s not sick to arm people. It’s sick to bump off their crooks and dictators in protection of our interests, and then call it "international justice". These people don’t have remote piloted drones guarding their interests ten thousand miles away. They don’t have a war machine paid for with taxes - where I am, they usually don’t even have a fucking ''government''. The drone is the oppressor, the gluten-free sorghum bread is the oppressor. The AK-47 is [[TheLastOfTheseIsNotLikeTheOthers the great equalizer]]. I empower these people.

->'''Jackal:''' What do you think you're gonna achieve with this interview? You think somebody in the Pentagon's gonna read it and come after me? Shit no. I'm a necessary evil. They want me here - they're'' glad ''I'm here. Because if I wasn't, they might have to come try to stem the tide. It will be thankless and worthless, and once the bodies started coming home in bags, they're screwed. A dead 23-year-old from Iowa gets more air time [[AMillionIsAStatistic than the death of fifty-thousand people he gave his life to protect]]. So even if they'' did ''give a shit, their own media prevents them from taking action.

'''Jackal:''' What's the difference? Same job really... You get up, you get on the phone, you meet your clients, you discuss a fair price, you make a delivery, and receive payment. Sounds boring... But it's not. It's just... Simple. I'm doing what men have been doing for thousands of years. Trading one thing for another. Maybe it's you who want to attach morality to it... Make it evil? Insane... People are working gun factories in Belgium or the States... They're unionized, right? You think kids making radios in Bangladesh pull down forty grand a year on a forty hour week? You start thinking too much about morality... THAT's insane...

'''Jackal:''' War is my home.

'''Jackal:''' Back in the Navy we delivered guns all over the world, droppin' off guys with 20 crates of rifles for the local fighters, so they could knock over some dictator. Mind you, that’s not 20 crates of factory M16s - these were illicit weapons, confiscated in some raid and then redistributed. No paperwork, right? If a crate here or there goes missing, hey, it happens. Military teaches you two things: how to deal with bureaucracy, and how to avoid it. Learning how to avoid it means learning how to deal in arms. You muster out, you apply what you learned. Every gun runner I ever met got his start that way: losing illicit weapons in transport with national militaries.

'''Jackal:''' I'm a humanist, I don't judge. Maybe you would?\\
'''Oluwagembi:''' I couldn't sell arms...\\
'''Jackal:''' Bullshit, Reuben. You have all the skills to be an arms dealer. Better one than me even. You're smart, you're creative, you're a salesman... heh, you sold me on doing these dumb interviews. Man, the rest is just paperwork.\\
'''Oluwagembi:''' I mean... I'll be unable, psychologically, to sell arms.\\

->'''Jackal:''' Saw this kid on the side of the road yesterday, couldn't have been eighteen, seventeen. Had a shotgun across his lap, and a dead APR half in the ditch next to him. Couple of close range blasts with that 12 gauge tore out [[BodyHorror big chunks of hamburger on his torso]]. Kid was lifting up the guy's leg, taking his boots. Kid just looked tired, just beaten down, ragged, tired, [[OlderThanTheyLook old]]. Kid that age shouldn’t look like that.

->'''Jackal:''' I’ll tell you what's sick. People in the UK, in the US, fucking Canada, Sweden. They pay their taxes - and some remote piloted drone fires a missile into a public market to hit some warlord. Yeah, so maybe war doesn’t happen for another six months, and the price of their gluten-free sorghum bread stays low. It’s not sick to arm people. It’s sick to bump off their crooks and dictators in protection of our interest, and then call it "international justice". These people don’t have remote piloted drones guarding their interests ten thousand miles away, they don’t have a war machine paid for with taxes - where I am, ''they usually don’t even have a fucking government''. The drone is the oppressor, the gluten-free sorghum bread is the oppressor, the AK-47 is [[TheLastOfTheseIsNotLikeTheOthers the great equalizer]]. I empower these people.

->'''Jackal:''' Who gets the lion’s share - that’s what it’s all about, whether it’s between children, or animals, or warlords. It’s not that everyone wants a piece; it’s that everyone wants the ''biggest'' piece. And the biggest piece doesn’t go to the monkey, or to the giraffe - the biggest piece goes to the lion, because the lion is the fucking king, that’s how it works, it worked that way a million years before there were men saying otherwise, that’s probably how it should work. \\

->'''Jackal:''' I saw that truck you were driving in, perforated with .50-cal rounds and torched on the side of the road. I looked inside, corpse is blown to pieces and [[BodyHorror burnt, unrecognizable]]. No camera, no tape recorder, no notebook... so I dunno, maybe you’re dead, or maybe not, maybe you find these stupid tapes and do whatever the Hell you wanted to do with 'em, or maybe the interview's over, wasted words, wasted life. Maybe I’ll see you soon.

->'''Jackal:''' Saw a firefight today. A little skirmish broke out of this road block when some APR guys got lost in their truck. Maybe five or six of them trading fire with the UFLL guys manning the CP, went on for twenty minutes, guys popping up from behind rocks to spray a few shots, ya know, randomly at each other, all of them almost too afraid to die. When it was over, the two UFLL guys who were unhurt ended up running off into the jungle, terrified. I went down and had a look around. A guy had been shot through the stomach, bloody mess. He saw me and whimpered at me to finish him off. [[HypocriticalHumor Funny how guys get shot because they're too afraid to die, and then they're lying there dying, and they're too afraid to live]]. Idiots...

->'''Jackal:''' You see these APR kids, or UFLL kids, or whoever’s listening to these damn broadcasts on the radio. Mbantuwe, Tambossa. I can’t even remember who, 'cause what’s the difference? Glassy-eyed little shits shouting out in support of whatever propaganda, lies, bullshit's being spouted at them. It’s absurd. These guys are already dead; they’re blowing each other away for someone else’s...for someone else. Tambossa, Mbantuwe, UFLL, APR: there’s no "Popular Resistance", no "Liberty or Labour". There’s no ideology at all. There isn’t even a desire to win. There’s no sense in it - no sense in it at all. What would it matter if we butchered the lot of them? Would it change anything?

->'''Jackal:''' If you have to kill someone - if you'' have ''to - is it somehow better to do it clean with a bullet through the head? Is it somehow worse to chop them up with an axe? And what if you have to kill ten, or a hundred, or a thousand? What if in doing it you'' save ''a thousand, or you spare ten? What if you save yourself? What is the measure of a man - or of his murder? By what insane calculus can we answer questions like these? Should we even try?

->''Dear Jackal, they called you insane, described you as a sociopath who thrived on killing. They were correct! But it seems like [[{{Foreshadowing}} you're trying to end this war]] - if it can even be called a war, regardless of the cost. I realized something sad today: I won't be able to resist the man who comes after me, the way your friends resisted me. Since I'm not strong enough to keep your secret, I'll protect it the only way I know how - by blasting it out the side of my head. I know you have plenty of bullets, Jackal - but I'll save you this one.''

'''Oluwagembi:''' How do they move the shipment?\\

'''Jackal:''' It's a romantic notion that they all came out of the Soviet Union after the collapse; that was a windfall back in '89, maybe through '91... but that's all over. I move weapons, I profit from circulation; you get a ceasefire in Liberia, both sides disarm, you think they slag two thousand tons of guns? No. They sell them to me. I resell them wherever the next war is starting. \\

'''Jackal (laughs):''' They aren't bio-degradable. Only the dead are bio-degradable.

'''Jackal:''' What's the difference? Same job really... You get up, you get on the phone, you meet your clients, you discuss a fair price, you make a delivery, and receive payment. Sounds boring... But it's not... It's just... Simple. I'm doing what men have been doing for thousands of years. Trading one thing for another. Maybe it's you who want to attach morality to it... Make it evil? Insane... People are working gun factories in Belgium or the States... They're unionized, right? You think kids making radios in Bangladesh pull down forty grand a year on a forty hour week? You start thinking too much about morality... THAT's insane...

'''Jackal:''' Back in the Navy we delivered guns all over the world, droppin' off guys with 20 crates of rifles for the local fighters, so they could knock over some dictator. Mind you, that’s not 20 crates of factory M16’s - these were illicit weapons, confiscated in some raid and then redistributed. No paper work, right? If a crate here or there goes missing, hey, it happens. Military teaches you two things: how to deal with bureaucracy, and how to avoid it. Learning how to avoid it means learning how to deal in arms. You muster out, you apply what you learned. Every gunman I have ever met got his start that way: losing illicit weapons in transport with national militaries.

'''Jackal:''' Bullshit, Reuben. You have all the skills to be an arms dealer. Better one than me even. You're smart, you're creative, you're a salesman... '''*laughs*''' heh, you sold me on doing these dumb interviews. Man, the rest is just paperwork.\\

->'''Jackal:''' Saw this kid on the side of the road yesterday, couldn't be eighteen, seventeen. Had a shotgun across his lap, and a dead APR half in the ditch next to him. Couple of close range blasts with that 12 gauge tore [[BodyHorror big chunks of hamburger out of his torso]]. Kid was looking at the guy's leg, taking his boots. Kid just looked tired, just beaten down, ragged, tired, [[OlderThanTheyLook old]]. Kids that age shouldn’t look like that.

->'''Jackal:''' I’ll tell you what's sick. People in the UK, US, fucking Canada, Sweden. They pay their taxes - and some remote piloted drone fires a missile into a public market to hit some warlord. Yeah, so maybe war doesn’t happen for another six months, and the price of their gluten-free sorghum bread stays low. It’s not sick to arm people. It’s sick to bump off their crooks and dictators in protection of our interest, and then call it "international justice". These people don’t have remote piloted drones guarding their interests ten thousand miles away, they don’t have a war machine paid for with taxes, where I am - ''they usually don’t even have a fucking government''. The drone is the oppressor, the gluten-free sorghum bread is the oppressor, the AK-47 is [[TheLastOfTheseIsNotLikeTheOthers the great equalizer]]. I empower these people.

->'''Jackal:''' Who gets the lion’s share - that’s what it’s all about, whether it’s between children, or animals, or warlords. It’s not that everyone wants a piece; it’s that everyone wants the BIGGEST piece. And the biggest piece doesn’t go to the monkey, or to the giraffe - the biggest piece goes to the lion, because the lion is the fucking king, that’s how it works, it worked that way a million years before there were men saying otherwise, that’s probably how it should work. \\

->'''Jackal:''' I saw that truck you were driving in, perforated with 50. calibre rounds and torched on the side of the road. I looked inside, corpses blown to pieces and [[BodyHorror burnt beyond recognizable]]. No camera, no tape recorder, no... no book. So I dunno, maybe you’re dead, maybe not, maybe you find these stupid tapes and do whatever the Hell you wanted to do with 'em, or maybe the interview's over, wasted words, wasted life. Maybe I’ll see you soon.

->'''Jackal:''' Saw a firefight today. Little skirmish broke out of this road block when some APR guys got lost in their truck. Maybe five or six of them trading fire with the UFLL guys manning the CP, went on for twenty minutes, guys popping up from behind rocks to spray a few shots, ya know, randomly at each other, all of them almost too afraid to die. When it was over, the two UFLL guys who were unhurt ended up running off into the jungle, terrified. I went down and had a look around. The guy had been shot through the stomach, bloody mess. He saw me and went pleading me to help finish him off. [[HypocriticalHumor Funny how guys get shot because they're too afraid to die, and then they're lying there dying, and they're too afraid to live]]. Idiots...

->'''Jackal:''' You see these APR kids, or UFLL kids, or whoever’s listening to these damn broadcasts on the radio. Mbantuwe, Tambossa. I can’t even remember who, 'cause what’s the difference? Glassy-eyed little shits shouting out in support of whatever propaganda, lies, bullshit's being spouted at them. It’s absurd. These guys are already dead; they’ve blown each other away for someone else’s...for someone else. Tambossa, Mbantuwe, UFLL, APR: there’s no "Popular Resistance", no "Liberty and Labour". There’s no ideology at all. There isn’t even a desire to win. There’s no sense in it - no sense in it at all. What would it matter if we butchered the lot of them? Would it change anything?

----
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->''Dear Jackal, your Georgian friend Gurgenidze, he didn't say much - [[JackBauerInterrogationTechnique even when I started cutting off fingers]]. I realized afterwards that the oil on his PKM still had that new gun smell, so I know you're selling them. Now I've got to figure out where does one hide a hundred tons of guns during total anarchy?''

->''You can't break a man the way you break a dog or a horse. The harder you beat a man, the taller he stands. To break a man's will, to break his spirit, you have to break his mind. Men have this idea that we can fight with dignity, that there's a proper way to kill someone. It's absurd. It's anesthetic. We need it to endure the bloody horror of murder. You must destroy that idea. Show them what a messy, terrible thing it is to kill a man, and then show them that you relish in it. Shoot to wound, then execute the wounded. Burn them. Take them in close combat. Destroy their preconceptions of what a man is and you become their personal monster. When they fear you, you become stronger, you become better. But let's never forget: it's a display, it's a posture, like a lion's roar or a gorilla thumping at its chest. If you lose yourself in the display, if you succumb to the horror, then you become the monster. You become reduced; not more than a man, but less--and it can be fatal.''
-->-- '''The Jackal''', "Infamy" tape

'''Jackal:''' I'm a humanist, I don't judge. Maybe you would.\\
'''Oluwagembi:''' I couldn't sell arms.\\
'''Jackal:''' Bullshit, Reuben. You have all the skills to be an arms dealer. Better one than me even. You're smart, you're creative, you're a salesman... heh, you sold me on doing these dumb interviews. Man, the rest is just paperwork.\\
'''Oluwagembi:''' I mean I'll be unable, psychologically, to sell arms.\\

->''What do you think you're gonna achieve with this interview? You think somebody in the Pentagon's gonna read it and come after me? Shit no. I'm a necessary evil. They want me here - they're'' glad ''I'm here. Because if I wasn't, they might have to come try to stem the tide. It will be thankless and worthless, and once the bodies started coming home in bags, they're screwed. A dead 23-year-old from Iowa gets more air time [[AMillionIsAStatistic than the death of fifty-thousand people he gave his life to protect]]. So even if they'' did ''give a shit, their own media prevents them from taking action.''
-->--'''The Jackal''', "[[NecessarilyEvil Necessary Evil]]" tape

->''If you have to kill someone - if you'' have ''to - is it somehow better to do it clean with a bullet through the head? Is it somehow worse to chop them up with an axe? And what if you have to kill ten, or a hundred, or a thousand? What if in doing it you'' save ''a thousand, or you spare ten? What if you save yourself? What is the measure of a man - or of his murder? By what insane calculus can we answer questions like these? Should we even try?''
-->--'''The Jackal''', "Numbers" tape

'''Jackal:''' Bullshit, Reuben. You have all the skills to be an arms dealer, better one than me even. You're smart, you're creative, you're a salesman, eheh. You sold me on doing these dumb interviews. Man, the rest is just paperwork.\\

->'''Jackal:''' I spent a year in Black Beach once, in the dark. It's a hell-hole. Covered in raw sewage. Guards breaking some inmates' fingers with a hammer [[ForTheEvulz just out of pure fuckin' meanness]]. Men die of starvation there all the time. I saw a guy in the opposite cell catch a rat with his teeth, because they had him in handcuffs 24 hours a day for two months. He couldn't eat. Seeing someone do that... he was weeping while he crushed it to death in his mouth. Seeing his eyes, his face... it's madness. He was dead three days later\\

-->-- '''The Jackal'''

->''You can't break a man the way you break a dog or a horse. The harder you beat a man, the taller he stands. To break a man's will, to break his spirit, you have to break his mind. Men have this idea that we can fight with dignity, that there's a proper way to kill someone. It's absurd. It's anesthetic. We need it to endure the bloody horror of murder. You must destroy that idea. Show them what a messy, terrible thing it is to kill a man, and then show them that you relish in it. Shoot to wound, then execute the wounded. Burn them. Take them in close combat. Destroy their preconceptions of what a man is and you become their personal monster. When they fear you, you become stronger. You become better. But let's never forget: it's a display, it's a posture, like a lion's roar or a gorilla thumping at its chest. If you lose yourself in the display, if you succumb to the horror, then you become the monster. You become reduced; not more than a man, but less--and it can be fatal.''

->''You can't break a man the way you break a dog or a horse. The harder you beat a man, the taller he stands. To break a man's will, to break his spirit, you have to break his mind. Men have this idea that we can fight with dignity, that there's a proper way to kill someone. It's absurd. It's anaesthetic. We need it to endure the bloody horror of murder. You must destroy that idea. Show them what a messy, terrible thing it is to kill a man, and then show them that you relish in it. Shoot to wound, then execute the wounded. Burn them. Take them in close combat. Destroy their preconceptions of what a man is and you become their personal monster. When they fear you, you become stronger. You become better. But let's never forget: it's a display, it's a posture, like a lion's roar or a gorilla thumping at its chest. If you lose yourself in the display, if you succumb to the horror, then you become the monster. You become reduced; not more than a man, but less--and it can be fatal.''