Quentin Tarantino’s Republic Dogs (vaguely OnTopic humor...)

By the late and lamented John M. Ford.

Quentin Tarantino’s Republic Dogs
Socrates: Hey, man, look, it’s f*ckin’ Solon.
Aristotle: Yo, Han Solo, where you been, man? Like the tan. Heat off at home?
Solon: Chillin’. Been to Saïs. Off in the east.
Aristotle: “Saïs?” Tell me you did not say “Saïs.”
Solon: Two damn dots and everything.
Aristotle: Doxa?
Solon: Eu-f*ckin’-doxa, my man.
Aristotle: Hey, you’ll wanna hear this — Socky gathered a bunch of hippies in Athens.
Solon: You mean Hippeis? A knightly class? Okay, I’m impressed.
Aristotle: No, hippies. Cool kids who listen to the guy, get blitzed, and don’t work.
Solon: I go away for a couple of years and —
Socrates (interrupting): So what is this Saïs place like?
Solon: Old, mostly. They got some gold an’ sh*t, an’ all the kings are married to their sisters an’ anybody else handy, an’ the mosquitoes are the size of mythical beasts, but mostly that sh*t is just old, man.
Socrates: And when you say their sucking bugs are like mythical beasts, what the hell do you mean? A mythical beast —
Solon: Look, dude, I have spent the last two years eating sand and takin’ off eye makeup. I am not in the mood for a dialogue.
Socrates: Well, then, what about their bosses? Are they wiseguys? Do they stand on, like, peaks above the rest of the clowns?
Aristotle: Where do you get that sh*t? And if you got more, can I have a hit?
Solon: They ain’t got peaks there. The first thing that place is, after old, is flat. Man, it is so flat they have to build their own damn mountains. Then they stick dead guys in the mountains and at night people come around and steal all the dead guys’ sh*t.
Aristotle: Nobody does anything about that?
Solon: Dead guys don’t deter. I mean, yeah, they put curses all over the place, but it’s all like “I curse you that sand will blow in your pants,” so it’s not like “I curse you while I beat you with this stick.” And they got paper boats.
Aristotle: “Paper?”
Solon: Flat stuff. You write on it. Doesn’t melt. You can fold it into birds and sh*t.
Socrates: Okay, okay, they write on boats and they got banking on the Austrian model. What about their bosses? They got areté?
Solon: Oh, man, they don’t have no f*ckin’ areté. got their own damn language that they write down on the paper and everything. They call it “Royale with two hats.”
Socrates: Two … hats.
Aristotle: You mean, like … two hats?
Solon: Sh*t, man, it’s about the river, see? There’s the Red Nile and the White Nile, ‘cept they’re both the same river, and they ain’t red and white. Red Sea isn’t, either, and do not ask me what kinda weird chariot sh*t goes on there. So, you got a hat for one Nile, and a hat for the other Nile, and you wear ‘em both, but with one turned around so you can see the Kangol label both f*ckin’ ways. An’ clothes that say, “My ancestors went to Atlantis and all I got was this f*ckin’ linen nightie.”
Socrates and Aristotle: Atlantis?
Solon: Now it gets hinky.

Erik, found at http://nielsenhayden.com/makinglight/archives/008071.html