RIP Raging Bull

[Diamond Dog]

Christ. Now that was a man you really didn't want to get into a street brawl with.

His series with Sugar Ray is legendary - for a reason.

Tough, tough, tough man. RIP Jake.

[sloopjohnc]

Just read that. After watching the movie a billion times, I'm surprised any boxer lives past 70-75.

[clive gash]

He was called the Bronx Bull for a reason.

Wise words mate.

https://www.theguardian.com/sport/2010/sep/26/the-vikki-lamotta-story

Vikki, who died five years ago, aged 75, once asked Jake, after taking yet another beating from him: "Why did you do it? What possible reason could you have had for hurting me so badly?"

He said: "I did it because I loved you. I thought it would frighten you into coming back to me. Besides, I get hurt all the time. It doesn't mean anything."

[clive gash]

Of course, he didn't do anything as beastly as vote Tory.

[Goat Boy]

[Diamond Dog]

Or



You decide.

[Goat Boy]

You shouldn't be so hard on yourselves dude.

You and K are at least as good as Cannon and Ball

ROCK ON FELLAS

[clive gash]

[Diamond Dog]

Oh how we laughed.

[Diamond Dog]

[naughty boy]

[Diamond Dog]

[Diamond Dog]

Let's go BCB'ing.....

[Diamond Dog]

Too soon because it's the single most unfunny 'comedy sketch' I've ever seen.

[Diamond Dog]

I mean even less amusing than the (dead serious) BCB versions of "Springtime For Hitler" we get on here these days.

[Diamond Dog]

I don't think it's a sketch as such, just a true story.

Where he uses a physically and mentally challenged nonagenarian as a figure of ridicule.

Not big. Not clever.

[clive gash]

“I never really and truly hit my wives. If I had hit them properly they would be dead. You know how it is: you slap around a broad just a little bit and everything is blown out of proportion.”

As the conversation progresses it is increasingly clear that La Motta has not come to terms with his past. One had expected to meet an old man who had taken the time to empathise with those who suffered at his hands; someone who had sought and found atonement. Instead, La Motta is a man in denial; an ageing thug seeking to escape from his crimes despite cashing in on them, not only through his 1970 autobiography but in a recent deal that could lead to the cinematic release of Raging Bull II.

When I ask him about his rape of a young woman in New York, which is harrowingly described in his book, La Motta reverts to type, attempting first to deny and then to evade responsibility.

“Rape?” he says. “I never really raped anybody.” “But what about the woman you describe in your autobiography?” I ask. La Motta pauses for a long moment. “Well, I suppose I gave her a little push or something,” he says. “You know what it’s like to give a little extra pressure. It often happens when women get their first sex, they pretend that they didn’t want it to happen. It’s a game to them.”

Meeting La Motta in the flesh is to realise that even Scorsese’s commendably unsentimental depiction fails to get to the heart of the matter. Raging Bull portrays the violence and pathos of La Motta’s life but fails to capture his essential narcissism. His violence was not merely the product of his inner rage but of his sociopathic indifference to the suffering of anyone but himself.

On one occasion after necking a few drinks he punched his first wife so hard that he thought he had killed her. His first reaction on coming out of his alcohol-induced slumber was not one of remorse but of how the murder might affect his boxing career: “Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. A minimum of three years.” But Joey, his brother, has a plan: “Throw her in the river.” It turned out she was alive but unconscious.

A tough, tough, tough man.

[Diamond Dog]

*In the ring*. You fucking prick.

Don't you have a defenceless bird to encage?

[clive gash]

Calm down fatty.

[clive gash]

Or continue to defend a wife-beating rapist. Your choice.