I went down yesterdizzle ta tha Piraeus wit Glaucon tha lil hustla of Ariston, dat I might offer up mah lyrics ta tha goddess (Bendis, tha Thracian Artemis.); n' also cuz I wanted ta peep up in what tha fuck manner they would big-up tha festival, which was a freshly smoked up thang. I was delighted wit tha procession of tha inhabitants; but dat of tha Thracians was equally, if not more, dope. When our crazy-ass asses had finished our lyrics n' viewed tha spectacle, our crazy-ass asses turned up in tha direction of tha hood; n' at dat instant Polemarchus tha lil hustla of Cephalus chizzled ta catch sight of our asses from a thugged-out distizzle as our crazy-ass asses was startin on our way home, n' busted some lyrics ta his servant ta run n' bid our asses wait fo' his muthafuckin ass. Da servant took hold of mah crazy ass by tha cloak behind, n' holla'd: Polemarchus desires you ta wait.
I turned round, n' axed his ass where his crazy-ass masta was.
There he is, holla'd tha youth, comin afta you, if yo big-ass booty is ghon only wait.
Certainly our crazy-ass asses will, holla'd Glaucon; n' up in a gangbangin' few minutes Polemarchus rocked up, n' wit his ass Adeimantus, Glauconz brutha, Niceratus tha lil hustla of Nicias, n' nuff muthafuckin others whoz ass had been all up in tha procession.
Polemarchus holla'd ta me: I perceive, Socrates, dat you n' yo' companion is already on yo' way ta tha hood.
Yo ass aint far wrong, I holla'd.
But do you see, he rejoined, how tha fuck nuff our crazy-ass asses are?
Of course.
And is you stronger than all these, biatch? fo' if not, yo big-ass booty is ghon have ta remain where yo ass is.
May there not be tha alternative, I holla'd, dat our crazy-ass asses may persuade you ta let our asses go?
But can you persuade us, if our crazy-ass asses refuse ta dig yo slick ass, biatch? he holla'd.
Certainly not, replied Glaucon.
Then our crazy-ass asses is not goin ta listen; of dat you may be assured.
Adeimantus added: Has no one busted some lyrics ta you of tha torch-race on horseback up in honour of tha goddess which will take place up in tha evening?
With horses, muthafucka! I replied: That be a novelty. Will horsemen carry torches n' pass em one ta another durin tha race?
Yes, holla'd Polemarchus, n' not only so yo, but a gangbangin' festival is ghon be bigged up at night, which you certainly ought ta see. Let our asses rise soon afta supper n' peep dis festival; there is ghon be a gatherin of lil' men, n' our crazy-ass asses will gots a phat talk. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Stay then, n' do not be perverse.
Glaucon holla'd: I suppose, since you insist, dat our crazy-ass asses must.
Straight-up phat, I replied.
Accordingly our crazy-ass asses went wit Polemarchus ta his house; n' there our crazy-ass asses found his bruthas Lysias n' Euthydemus, n' wit em Thrasymachus tha Chalcedonian, Charmantides tha Paeanian, n' Cleitophon tha lil hustla of Aristonymus. There too was Cephalus tha daddy of Polemarchus, whom I had not peeped fo' a long-ass time, n' I thought his ass straight-up much aged. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude was seated on a cold-ass lil cushioned chair, n' had a garland on his head, fo' he had been sacrificin up in tha court; n' there was some other chairs up in tha room arranged up in a semicircle, upon which our crazy-ass asses sat down by his muthafuckin ass yo. Dude saluted mah crazy ass eagerly, n' then he holla'd:-
Yo ass don't come ta peep me, Socrates, as often as you ought: If I was still able ta go n' peep you I would not ask you ta come ta mah dirty ass. But at mah age I can hardly git ta tha hood, n' therefore you should come oftener ta tha Piraeus. For let mah crazy ass rap , dat tha mo' tha pleasurez of tha body fade away, tha pimped outer ta mah crazy ass is tha pleasure n' charm of conversation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Do not then deny mah request yo, but make our doggy den yo' resort n' keep company wit these lil' men; our crazy-ass asses is oldschool playas, n' yo big-ass booty is ghon be like up in da crib wit us.
I replied: There is not a god damn thang which fo' mah part I like better, Cephalus, than conversin wit aged men; fo' I regard em as travellaz whoz ass have gone a journey which I too may have ta go, n' of whom I ought ta enquire, whether tha way is smooth n' easy as fuck , and rugged n' hard as fuck fo' realz. And dis be a question which I should like ta ask of y'all whoz ass have arrived at dat time which tha poets call tha 'threshold of oldschool age'-Is thuglife harder towardz tha end, and what tha fuck report do you give of it?
I will rap , Socrates, he holla'd, what tha fuck mah own feelin is. Men of mah age flock together; our crazy-ass asses is birdz of a gangbangin' feather, as tha oldschool proverb says; n' at our meetings tha tale of mah acquaintizzle commonly is-I cannot eat, I cannot drink; tha pleasurez of youth n' ludd is fled away: there was a phat time once yo, but now dat is gone, n' thuglife is no longer life. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Some disz of tha slights which is put upon em by relations, n' they will rap sadly of how tha fuck nuff evils they oldschool age is tha cause. But ta me, Socrates, these complainers seem ta blame dat which aint straight-up up in fault. For if oldschool age was tha cause, I too bein old, n' every last muthafuckin other oldschool man, would have felt as they do. But dis aint mah own experience, nor dat of others whom I have known. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. How tha fuck well I remember tha aged poet Sophocles, when up in answer ta tha question, How tha fuck do ludd suit wit age, Sophocles,-are you still tha playa you were, biatch? Peace, he replied; most gladly have I escaped tha muthafuckin thang of which you speak; I feel as if I had escaped from a mad n' furious masta yo. His lyrics have often occurred ta mah mind since, n' they seem as phat ta mah crazy ass now as all up in tha time when he uttered them. For certainly oldschool age has a pimped out sense of calm n' freedom; when tha passions chillax they hold, then, as Sophoclez says, our crazy-ass asses is freed from tha grasp not of one mad masta only yo, but of many. Da truth is, Socrates, dat these regrets, n' also tha disses bout relations, is ta be attributed ta tha same stupid-ass cause, which aint oldschool age yo, but menz charactas n' tempers; fo' he whoz ass iz of a cold-ass lil calm n' aiiight nature will hardly feel tha heat of age yo, but ta his ass whoz ass iz of a opposite disposizzle youth n' age is equally a funky-ass burden.
I listened up in admiration, n' wantin ta draw his ass out, dat he might go on-Yes, Cephalus, I holla'd: but I rather suspect dat gangstas up in general is not convinced by you when you drop a rhyme thus; they be thinkin dat oldschool age sits lightly upon you, not cuz of yo' aiiight disposizzle yo, but cuz yo ass is rich, n' wealth is well known ta be a pimped out comforter.
Yo ass is right, he replied; they is not convinced: n' there is somethang up in what tha fuck they say; not, however, so much as they imagine. I might answer em as Themistoclez answered tha Seriphian whoz ass was abusin his ass n' sayin dat he was hyped, not fo' his own merits but cuz he was a Athenian: 'If you had been a natizzle of mah ghetto and I of yours, neither of our asses would done been hyped know what I be sayin biatch, biatch? And ta em whoz ass is not rich n' is impatient of oldschool age, tha same stupid-ass reply may be made; fo' ta tha phat skanky playa oldschool age cannot be a light burden, nor can a funky-ass bad rich playa eva have peace wit his dirty ass.
May I ask, Cephalus, whether yo' fortune was fo' da most thugged-out part inherited and acquired by yo slick ass?
Acquired, muthafucka! Socrates; do you wanna know how tha fuck much I acquired, biatch? In tha art of bustin scrilla I done been midway between mah daddy n' grandfather: fo' mah grandfather, whose name I bear, doubled n' trebled tha value of his thugged-out lil' patrimony, dat which he inherited bein much what tha fuck I possess now; but mah daddy Lysanias reduced tha property below what tha fuck it be at present: n' I shall be satisfied if I leave ta these mah lil playas not less but a lil mo' than I received.
That was why I axed you tha question, I replied, cuz I peep dat yo ass is indifferent bout scrilla, which be a cold-ass lil characteristic rather of em whoz ass have inherited they fortunes than of em whoz ass have acquired them; tha makerz of fortunes gots a second ludd of scrilla as a cold-ass lil creation of they own, resemblin tha affection of authors fo' they own poems, and of muthafathas fo' they children, besides dat natural ludd of it fo' tha sake of bust n' profit which is common ta em n' all men. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And hence they is straight-up bad company, fo' they can rap bout not a god damn thang but tha praisez of wealth.
That is true, he holla'd.
Yes, dat is straight-up true yo, but may I ask another question?-What do you consider ta be tha top billin blessin which you have reaped from yo' wealth?
One, he holla'd, of which I could not expect easily ta convince others. For let mah crazy ass rap , Socrates, dat when a playa be thinkin his dirty ass ta be near dirtnap, fears n' cares enter tha fuck into his crazy-ass mind which he never had before; tha talez of a ghetto below n' tha punishment which is exacted there of deedz done here was once a bustin up matter ta his ass yo, but now he is tormented wit tha thought dat they may be true: either from tha weaknizz of age, and cuz he is now drawin nearer ta dat other place, he has a cold-ass lil clearer view of these thangs; suspicions n' alarms crowd thickly upon him, n' he begins ta reflect n' consider what tha fuck wrongs he has done ta others fo' realz. And when he findz dat tha sum of his cold-ass transgressions is pimped out he will nuff a time like a cold-ass lil lil pimp start up up in his chill fo' fear, n' he is filled wit dark forebodings. But ta his ass whoz ass is consciouz of no sin, sweet hope, as Pindar charmingly says, is tha kind nurse of his thugged-out age:
'Hope,' he says, 'cherishes tha asz of his ass whoz ass lives up in justice n' holiness, n' is tha nurse of his thugged-out age n' tha companion of his journey;-hope which is mightiest ta sway tha restless asz of man.'
How tha fuck admirable is his fuckin lyrics, muthafucka! And tha pimped out blessin of riches, I do not say ta every last muthafuckin playa yo, but ta a phat man, is, dat he has had no occasion ta deceive and ta defraud others, either intentionally and unintentionally; n' when he departs ta tha ghetto below he aint up in any apprehension bout offerings cuz of tha godz and debts which he owes ta men. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Now ta dis peace of mind tha possession of wealth pimped outly contributes; n' therefore I say, that, settin one muthafuckin thang against another, of tha nuff advantages which wealth has ta give, ta a playa of sense dis is up in mah opinion tha top billin.
Well holla'd, Cephalus, I replied; but as concernin justice, what tha fuck is it?-to drop a rhyme tha truth n' ta pay yo' debts-no mo' than this, biatch? And even ta dis is there not exceptions, biatch? Suppose dat a gangbangin' playa when up in his bangin muthafuckin right mind has deposited arms wit mah crazy ass n' he asks fo' em when he aint up in his bangin muthafuckin right mind, ought I ta give em back ta him, biatch? No one would say dat I ought and dat I should be muthafuckin right up in bustin so, any mo' than they would say dat I ought always ta drop a rhyme tha truth ta one whoz ass is up in his condition.
Yo ass is like right, he replied.
But then, I holla'd, bustin lyrics tha truth n' payin yo' debts aint a cold-ass lil erect definizzle of justice.
Quite erect, Socrates, if Semenides is ta be believed, holla'd Polemarchus interposing.
I fear, holla'd Cephalus, dat I must go now, fo' I have ta look afta tha sacrifices, n' I hand over tha argument ta Polemarchus n' tha company.
Is not Polemarchus yo' heir, biatch? I holla'd.
To be sure, he answered, n' went away bustin up ta tha sacrifices.
Tell mah crazy ass then, O thou heir of tha argument, what tha fuck did Semenides say, n' accordin ta you truly say, bout justice?
Dude holla'd dat tha repayment of a thugged-out debt is just, n' up in sayin so he appears ta mah crazy ass ta be right.
I should be sorry ta doubt tha word of such a wise n' inspired playa yo, but his crazy-ass meaning, though probably clear ta you, is tha reverse of clear ta mah dirty ass. For he certainly do not mean, as our crazy-ass asses was just now saying, dat I ought ta return a thugged-out deposit of arms and of anythang else ta one whoz ass asks fo' it when he aint up in his bangin muthafuckin right senses; n' yet a thugged-out deposit cannot be denied ta be a thugged-out debt.
True.
Then when tha thug whoz ass asks mah crazy ass aint up in his bangin muthafuckin right mind I be by no means ta make tha return?
Certainly not.
When Semenides holla'd dat tha repayment of a thugged-out debt was justice, he did not mean ta include dat case?
Certainly not; fo' he be thinkin dat a gangbangin' playa ought always ta do phat ta a gangbangin' playa n' never evil.
Yo ass mean dat tha return of a thugged-out deposit of gold which is ta tha injury of tha receiver, if tha two partizzles is playas, aint tha repayment of a thugged-out debt,-that is what tha fuck you would imagine his ass ta say?
Yes yes y'all.
And is enemies also ta receive what tha fuck our crazy-ass asses owe ta them?
To be sure, he holla'd, they is ta receive what tha fuck our crazy-ass asses owe them, n' a enemy, as I take it, owes ta a enemy dat which is due and proper ta him-that is ta say, evil.
Semenides, then, afta tha manner of poets, would seem ta have spoken darkly of tha nature of justice; fo' he straight-up meant ta say dat justice is tha givin ta each playa what tha fuck is proper ta him, n' dis he termed a thugged-out debt.
That must done been his crazy-ass meaning, he holla'd.
By heaven, muthafucka! I replied; n' if our crazy-ass asses axed his ass what tha fuck due and proper muthafuckin thang is given by medicine, n' ta whom, what tha fuck answer do you be thinkin dat he would make ta us?
Dude would surely reply dat medicine gives sticky-icky-ickys n' meat n' drink ta human bodies.
And what tha fuck due and proper muthafuckin thang is given by cookery, n' ta what?
Seasonin ta chicken n' you know I be eatin up dat shizzle all muthafuckin day, biatch.
And what tha fuck is dat which justice gives, n' ta whom?
If, Socrates, our crazy-ass asses is ta be guided at all by tha analogy of tha precedin instizzles, then justice is tha art which gives phat ta playaz n' evil ta enemies.
That is his crazy-ass meanin then?
I be thinkin so.
And whoz ass is dopest able ta do phat ta his wild lil' playaz n' evil ta his wild lil' fuckin enemies up in time of sickness?
Da physician.
Or when they is on a voyage, amid tha perilz of tha sea?
Da pilot.
And up in what tha fuck sort of actions and wit a view ta what tha fuck result is tha just playa most able ta do harm ta his wild lil' fuckin enemy n' phat ta his wild lil' playa?
In goin ta war against tha one n' up in bustin alliizzlez wit tha other.
But when a playa is well, mah dear Polemarchus, there is no need of a physician?
No.
And he whoz ass aint on a voyage has no need of a pilot?
No.
Then up in time of peace justice is ghon be of no use?
I be straight-up far from thankin so.
Yo ass be thinkin dat justice may be of bust up in peace as well as up in war?
Yes yes y'all.
Like homeboyry fo' tha acquisizzle of corn?
Yes yes y'all.
Or like shoebustin fo' tha acquisizzle of shoes,-that is what tha fuck you mean?
Yes yes y'all.
And what tha fuck similar bust and juice of acquisizzle has justice up in time of peace?
In contracts, Socrates, justice iz of use.
And by contracts you mean partnerships?
Exactly.
But is tha just playa and tha skilful playa a mo' useful n' mo' betta partner at a game of draughts?
Da skilful playa.
And up in tha layin of bricks n' stones is tha just playa a mo' useful and mo' betta partner than tha builder?
Quite tha reverse.
Then up in what tha fuck sort of partnershizzle is tha just playa a funky-ass mo' betta partner than tha harp-playa, as up in playin tha harp tha harp-playa is certainly a funky-ass mo' betta partner than tha just man?
In a scrilla partnership.
Yes, Polemarchus yo, but surely not up in tha bust of scrilla; fo' you do not want a just playa ta be yo' counsellor up in tha purchase and sale of a horse; a playa whoz ass is knowin bout horses would be mo' betta fo' that, would he not?
Certainly.
And when you wanna cop a ship, tha shipwright and tha pilot would be better?
True.
Then what tha fuck is dat joint bust of silver and gold up in which tha just playa is ta be preferred?
When you want a thugged-out deposit ta be kept safely.
Yo ass mean when scrilla aint wanted yo, but allowed ta lie?
Precisely.
That is ta say, justice is useful when scrilla is useless?
That is tha inference.
And when you wanna keep a pruning-hook safe, then justice is useful ta tha individual n' ta tha state; but when you wanna bust it, then tha art of tha vine-dresser?
Clearly.
And when you wanna keep a shield and a lyre, n' not ta bust them, you would say dat justice is useful; but when you wanna bust them, then tha art of tha soldier and of tha musical muthafucka?
Certainly.
And so of all other thangs;-justice is useful when they is useless, n' useless when they is useful?
That is tha inference.
Then justice aint phat fo' much. But let our asses consider dis further point: Is not he whoz ass can dopest strike a funky-ass blow up in a funky-ass boxin match and up in any kind of fightin dopest able ta ward off a funky-ass blow?
Certainly.
And he whoz ass is most skilful up in preventin and escapin from a thugged-out disease is dopest able ta create one?
True.
And he is tha dopest guard of a cold-ass lil camp whoz ass is dopest able ta steal a march upon tha enemy?
Certainly.
Then he whoz ass be a phat keeper of anythang be also a phat thief?
That, I suppose, is ta be inferred.
Then if tha just playa is phat at keepin scrilla, he is phat at jackin dat shit.
That is implied up in tha argument.
Then afta all tha just playa has turned up ta be a thief fo' realz. And dis be a lesson which I suspect you must have learnt outta Homer; fo' he, bustin lyricz of Autolycus, tha maternal grandfather of Odysseus, whoz ass be a gangbangin' most straight-up bangin of his, affirms that
'Dude was pimpin above all pimps up in theft n' perjury.'
And so, you n' Homer n' Semenides is agreed dat justice be a art of theft; ta be practised however 'for tha phat of playaz n' fo' tha harm of enemies,'-that was what tha fuck you was saying?
Fuck dat shit, certainly not that, though I do not now know what tha fuck I did say; but I still stand by tha latter lyrics.
Well, there be another question: By playaz n' enemies do our crazy-ass asses mean em whoz ass is so straight-up, and only up in seeming?
Surely, he holla'd, a playa may be sposed ta fuckin ludd em whom he be thinkin phat, n' ta don't give a fuck bout em whom he be thinkin evil.
Yes yo, but do not peeps often err bout phat n' evil: nuff whoz ass is not phat seem ta be so, n' conversely?
That is true.
Then ta em tha phat is ghon be enemies n' tha evil is ghon be they playas, biatch? True.
And up in dat case they is ghon be muthafuckin right up in bustin phat ta tha evil n' evil ta tha phat?
Clearly.
But tha phat is just n' would not do a injustice?
True.
Then accordin ta yo' argument it is just ta injure em whoz ass do no wrong?
Nay, Socrates; tha doctrine is immoral.
Then I suppose dat our crazy-ass asses ought ta do phat ta tha just n' harm ta tha unjust?
I like dat better.
But peep tha consequence:-Many a playa whoz ass be all salty ta human nature has playaz whoz ass is bad playas, n' up in dat case he ought ta do harm ta them; n' he has phat enemies whom he ought ta benefit; but, if so, our crazy-ass asses shall be sayin tha straight-up opposite of dat which our crazy-ass asses affirmed ta be tha meanin of Semenides.
Straight-up true, he holla'd: n' I be thinkin dat our crazy-ass asses had mo' betta erect a error tha fuck into which our crazy-ass asses seem ta have fallen up in tha bust of tha lyrics 'playa' n' 'enemy.'
What was tha error, Polemarchus, biatch? I axed.
Our thugged-out asses assumed dat he be a gangbangin' playa whoz ass seems ta be and whoz ass is thought phat.
And how tha fuck is tha error ta be erected?
Our thugged-out asses should rather say dat he be a gangbangin' playa whoz ass is, as well as seems, phat; n' dat he whoz ass seems only, n' aint phat, only seems ta be n' aint a gangbangin' playa; n' of a enemy tha same stupid-ass may be holla'd.
Yo ass would argue dat tha phat is our playaz n' tha bad our enemies?
Yes yes y'all.
And instead of sayin simply as our crazy-ass asses did at first, dat it is just ta do phat ta our playaz n' harm ta our enemies, our crazy-ass asses should further say: It be just ta do phat ta our playaz when they is phat n' harm ta our enemies when they is evil?
Yes, dat appears ta mah crazy ass ta be tha truth.
But ought tha just ta injure any one at all?
Undoubtedly he ought ta injure em whoz ass is both wicked n' his wild lil' fuckin enemies.
When horses is injured, is they improved and deteriorated?
Da latter.
Deteriorated, dat is ta say, up in tha phat qualitizzlez of horses, not of dawgs?
Yes, of horses.
And dawgs is deteriorated up in tha phat qualitizzlez of dawgs, n' not of horses?
Of course.
And aint gonna pimps whoz ass is injured be deteriorated up in dat which is tha proper virtue of man?
Certainly.
And dat human virtue is justice?
To be sure.
Then pimps whoz ass is injured iz of necessitizzle done cooked up unjust?
That is tha result.
But can tha musical muthafucka by his thugged-out art make pimps unmusical?
Certainly not.
Or tha horseman by his thugged-out art make em bad horsemen?
Impossible.
And can tha just by justice make pimps unjust, and bustin lyrics generally, can tha phat by virtue make em bad?
Assuredly not.
Any mo' than heat can produce cold?
It cannot.
Or drought moisture?
Clearly not.
Nor can tha phat harm any one?
Impossible.
And tha just is tha phat?
Certainly.
Then ta injure a gangbangin' playa and any one else aint tha act of a just playa yo, but of tha opposite, whoz ass is tha unjust?
I be thinkin dat what tha fuck you say is like true, Socrates.
Then if a playa says dat justice consists up in tha repayment of debts, n' dat phat is tha debt which a just playa owes ta his wild lil' playas, n' evil tha debt which he owes ta his wild lil' fuckin enemies,-to say dis aint wise; fo' it aint true, if, as has been clearly shown, tha injurin of another can be up in no case just.
I smoke wit you, holla'd Polemarchus.
Then you n' I is prepared ta take up arms against any one whoz ass attributes such a sayin ta Semenides and Bias and Pizzleacus, and any other wise playa and seer?
I be like locked n loaded ta do battle at yo' side, he holla'd.
Shall I rap whose I believe tha sayin ta be?
Whose?
I believe dat Periander and Perdiccas and Xerxes and Ismenias tha Theban, and some other rich n' mighty man, whoz ass had a pimped out opinion of his own power, was tha straight-up original gangsta ta say dat justice is 'bustin phat ta yo' playaz n' harm ta yo' enemies.'
Most true, he holla'd.
Yes, I holla'd; but if dis definizzle of justice also breaks down, what tha fuck other can be offered?
Several times up in tha course of tha rap Thrasymachus had done cooked up a attempt ta git tha argument tha fuck into his own hands, n' had been put down by tha rest of tha company, whoz ass wanted ta hear tha end. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! But when Polemarchus n' I had done bustin lyrics n' there was a pause, he could no longer hold his thugged-out lil' peace; and, gatherin his dirty ass up, he came at our asses like a wild beast, seekin ta devour us. Our thugged-out asses was like panic-stricken all up in tha sight of his muthafuckin ass.
Dude roared up ta tha whole company: What folly, Socrates, has taken possession of y'all all, biatch? And why, sillybillies, do you knock under ta one another, biatch? I say dat if you want straight-up ta know what tha fuck justice is, you should not only ask but answer, n' you should not seek honour ta yo ass from tha refutation of a opponent yo, but have yo' own answer; fo' there is nuff a one whoz ass can ask n' cannot answer fo' realz. And now I aint gonna have you say dat justice is duty and advantage and profit and bust and interest, fo' dis sort of nonsense aint gonna do fo' me; I must have clearnizz n' accuracy.
I was panic-stricken at his fuckin lyrics, n' could not peep his ass without trembling. Git tha fuck outta mah grill wit dat bullshizzle I believe dat if I had not fixed mah eye upon him, I should done been struck dumb: but when I saw his wild lil' fury rising, I looked at his ass first, n' was therefore able ta reply ta his muthafuckin ass.
Thrasymachus, I holla'd, wit a quiver, don't be hard upon us. Polemarchus n' I may done been guilty of a lil mistake up in tha argument yo, but I can assure you dat tha error was not intentional. If our crazy-ass asses was seekin fo' a piece of gold, you would not imagine dat our crazy-ass asses was 'knockin under ta one another,' n' so losin our chizzle of findin it fo' realz. And why, when our crazy-ass asses is seekin fo' justice, a muthafuckin thang mo' precious than nuff piecez of gold, do you say dat our crazy-ass asses is weakly yieldin ta one another n' not bustin our utmost ta git all up in tha truth, biatch? Nay, mah phat playa, our crazy-ass asses is most willin n' anxious ta do so yo, but tha fact is dat our crazy-ass asses cannot fo' realz. And if so, you gangstas whoz ass know all thangs should pitizzle our asses n' not be supa pissed wit us.
How tha fuck characteristic of Socrates, muthafucka! he replied, wit a funky-ass bitter laugh;-thatz yo' ironical style, muthafucka! Did I not foresee-have I not already busted some lyrics ta you, dat whatever he was axed he would refuse ta answer, n' try irony and any other shuffle, up in order dat he might avoid answering?
Yo ass be a philosopher, Thrasymachus, I replied, n' well know dat if you ask a thug what tha fuck numbers make up twelve, takin care ta prohibit his ass whom you ask from answerin twice six, and three times four, and six times two, and four times three, 'for dis sort of nonsense aint gonna do fo' me,'-then obviously, if dat is yo' way of puttin tha question, no one can answer yo thugged-out ass. But suppose dat he was ta retort, 'Thrasymachus, what tha fuck do you mean, biatch? If one of these numbers which you interdict be tha true answer ta tha question, be I falsely ta say some other number which aint tha muthafuckin right one?-is dat yo' meaning?'-How tha fuck would you answer him?
Just as if tha two cases was at all alike, muthafucka! he holla'd.
Why should they not be, biatch? I replied; n' even if they is not yo, but only step tha fuck up ta be so ta tha thug whoz ass be axed, ought he not ta say what tha fuck he thinks, whether you n' I forbid his ass and not?
I presume then dat yo ass is goin ta make one of tha interdicted lyrics?
I dare say dat I may, notwithstandin tha danger, if upon reflection I approve of any of them.
But what tha fuck if I give you a answer bout justice other n' better, he holla'd, than any of these, biatch? What do you deserve ta have done ta yo slick ass?
Done ta me!-as becomes tha ignorant, I must learn from tha wise-that is what tha fuck I deserve ta have done ta mah dirty ass.
What, n' no payment, muthafucka! a pleasant notion!
I will pay when I have tha scrilla, I replied.
But you have, Socrates, holla'd Glaucon: n' you, Thrasymachus, need be under no anxiety bout scrilla, fo' our crazy-ass asses will all cook up a cold-ass lil contribution fo' Socrates.
Yes, he replied, n' then Socrates will do as he always do-refuse ta answer his dirty ass yo, but take n' pull ta pieces tha answer of some one else.
Why, mah phat playa, I holla'd, how tha fuck can any one answer whoz ass knows, n' says dat he knows, just nothang; n' who, even if he has some faint notionz of his own, is busted some lyrics ta by a playa of authoritizzle not ta utter them, biatch? Da natural muthafuckin thang is, dat tha speaker should be some one like yo ass whoz ass professes ta know n' can tell what tha fuck he knows. Will you then kindly answer, fo' tha edification of tha company n' of mah dirty ass?
Glaucon n' tha rest of tha company joined up in mah request, n' Thrasymachus, as any one might see, was up in realitizzle eager ta speak; fo' he thought dat he had a pimpin answer, n' would distinguish his dirty ass. But at first he affected ta insist on mah answering; at length he consented ta begin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Behold, he holla'd, tha wisdom of Socrates; he refuses ta teach his dirty ass, n' goes bout peepin' of others, ta whom he never even says Thank yo thugged-out ass.
That I learn of others, I replied, is like true; but dat I be ungrateful I wholly deny. Chedda I have none, n' therefore I pay up in praise, which be all I have; n' how tha fuck locked n loaded I be ta praise any one whoz ass appears ta mah crazy ass ta drop a rhyme well yo big-ass booty is ghon straight-up soon smoke up when you answer; fo' I expect dat yo big-ass booty is ghon answer well.
Listen, then, he holla'd; I proclaim dat justice is not a god damn thang else than tha interest of tha stronger fo' realz. And now why do you not praise me, biatch? But of course you won't.
Let mah crazy ass first understand you, I replied. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Justice, as you say, is tha interest of tha stronger. What, Thrasymachus, is tha meanin of this, biatch? Yo ass cannot mean ta say dat cuz Polydamas, tha pancratiast, is stronger than our crazy-ass asses are, n' findz tha smokin of beef conducive ta his bodily strength, dat ta smoke beef is therefore equally fo' our phat whoz ass is weaker than he is, n' muthafuckin right n' just fo' us?
Thatz abominable of you, Socrates; you take tha lyrics up in tha sense which is most damagin ta tha argument.
Not at all, mah phat sir, I holla'd; I be tryin ta understand them; n' I wish dat you would be a lil clearer.
Well, he holla'd, have you never heard dat formz of posse differ; there is tyrannies, n' there is democracies, n' there is aristocracies?
Yes, I know, nahmeean?
And tha posse is tha rulin juice up in each state?
Certainly.
And tha different formz of posse make laws democratical, aristocratical, tyrannical, wit a view ta they nuff muthafuckin interests; n' these laws, which is done cooked up by em fo' they own interests, is tha justice which they serve up ta they subjects, n' his ass whoz ass transgresses em they punish as a funky-ass breaker of tha law, n' unjust fo' realz. And dat is what tha fuck I mean when I say dat up in all states there is tha same stupid-ass principle of justice, which is tha interest of tha posse; n' as tha posse must be supposed ta have power, tha only reasonable conclusion is, dat everywhere there is one principle of justice, which is tha interest of tha stronger.
Now I understand you, I holla'd; n' whether yo ass is muthafuckin right and not I will try ta discover. But let mah crazy ass remark, dat up in definin justice you have yo ass used tha word 'interest' which you forbade mah crazy ass ta use. It be true, however, dat up in yo' definizzle tha lyrics 'of tha stronger' is added.
A lil' small-ass addition, you must allow, he holla'd.
Great and small, never mind bout that: our crazy-ass asses must first enquire whether what tha fuck yo ass is sayin is tha truth. Now our crazy-ass asses is both agreed dat justice is interest of some sort yo, but you go on ta say 'of tha stronger'; bout dis addizzle I be not so sure, n' must therefore consider further.
Proceed.
I will; n' first tell me, Do you admit dat it is just fo' subjects ta obey they rulaz?
I do.
But is tha rulaz of states straight-up infallible, and is they sometimes liable ta err?
To be sure, he replied, they is liable ta err.
Then up in bustin they laws they may sometimes make em rightly, n' sometimes not?
True.
When they make em rightly, they make em agreeably ta they interest; when they is mistaken, contrary ta they interest; you admit that?
Yes yes y'all.
And tha laws which they make must be obeyed by they subjects,-and dat is what tha fuck you call justice?
Doubtless.
Then justice, accordin ta yo' argument, aint only obedience ta tha interest of tha stronger but tha reverse?
What tha fuck iz dat yo ass is saying, biatch? he axed.
I be only repeatin what tha fuck yo ass is saying, I believe. But let our asses consider: Have our crazy-ass asses not admitted dat tha rulaz may be mistaken bout they own interest up in what tha fuck they command, n' also dat ta obey em is justice, biatch? Has not dat been admitted?
Yes yes y'all.
Then you must also have bigged up justice not ta be fo' tha interest of tha stronger, when tha rulaz unintentionally command thangs ta be done which is ta they own injury. For if, as you say, justice is tha obedience which tha subject rendaz ta they commands, up in dat case, O wisest of men, is there any escape from tha conclusion dat tha weaker is commanded ta do, not what tha fuck is fo' tha interest yo, but what tha fuck is fo' tha injury of tha stronger?
Nothang can be clearer, Socrates, holla'd Polemarchus.
Yes, holla'd Cleitophon, interposing, if yo ass be allowed ta be his witness.
But there is no need of any witness, holla'd Polemarchus, fo' Thrasymachus his dirty ass acknowledges dat rulaz may sometimes command what tha fuck aint fo' they own interest, n' dat fo' subjects ta obey em is justice.
Yes, Polemarchus,-Thrasymachus holla'd dat fo' subjects ta do what tha fuck was commanded by they rulaz is just.
Yes, Cleitophon yo, but he also holla'd dat justice is tha interest of tha stronger, and, while admittin both these propositions, he further bigged up dat tha stronger may command tha weaker whoz ass is his subjects ta do what tha fuck aint fo' his own interest; whence bigs up dat justice is tha injury like as much as tha interest of tha stronger.
But, holla'd Cleitophon, he meant by tha interest of tha stronger what tha fuck tha stronger thought ta be his crazy-ass muthafuckin interest,-this was what tha fuck tha weaker had ta do; n' dis was affirmed by his ass ta be justice.
Those was not his fuckin lyrics, rejoined Polemarchus.
Never mind, I replied, if he now says dat they are, let our asses accept his statement. Tell me, Thrasymachus, I holla'd, did you mean by justice what tha fuck tha stronger thought ta be his crazy-ass muthafuckin interest, whether straight-up so and not?
Certainly not, he holla'd. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Do you suppose dat I call his ass whoz ass is mistaken tha stronger all up in tha time when he is mistaken?
Yes, I holla'd, mah impression was dat you did so, when you admitted dat tha rula was not infallible but might be sometimes mistaken.
Yo ass argue like a informer, Socrates. Do you mean, fo' example, dat he whoz ass is mistaken bout tha sick be a physician up in dat he is mistaken, biatch? and dat he whoz ass errs up in arithmetic and grammar be a arithmetician and grammarian all up in tha time when he is bustin tha mistake, up in respect of tha mistake, biatch? True, our crazy-ass asses say dat tha physician and arithmetician and grammarian has done cooked up a mistake yo, but dis is only a way of bustin lyrics; fo' tha fact is dat neither tha grammarian nor any other thug of skill eva makes a mistake up in so far as he is what tha fuck his name implies; they none of em err unless they skill fails them, n' then they cease ta be scapped artists. No artist and sage and rula errs all up in tha time when he is what tha fuck his name implies; though he is commonly holla'd ta err, n' I adopted tha common mode of bustin lyrics. But ta be perfectly accurate, since yo ass is such a gangbangin' freak of accuracy, our crazy-ass asses should say dat tha ruler, up in so far as he be a ruler, is unerring, and, bein unerring, always commandz dat which is fo' his own interest; n' tha subject is required ta execute his commands; n' therefore, as I holla'd at first n' now repeat, justice is tha interest of tha stronger.
Indeed, Thrasymachus, n' do I straight-up step tha fuck up ta you ta argue like a informer?
Certainly, he replied.
And do you suppose dat I ask these thangs wit any design of injurin you up in tha argument?
Nay, he replied, 'suppose' aint tha word-I know it; but yo big-ass booty is ghon be found out, n' by sheer force of argument yo big-ass booty is ghon never prevail.
I shall not make tha attempt, mah dear man; but ta avoid any misunderstandin occurrin between our asses up in future, let mah crazy ass ask, up in what tha fuck sense do you drop a rhyme of a rula and stronger whose interest, as you was saying, he bein tha supaior, it is just dat tha inferior should execute-is he a rula up in tha ghettofab and up in tha strict sense of tha term?
In tha strictest of all senses, he holla'd. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! And now cheat n' play tha informa if you can; I ask no quarter at yo' hands. But you never is ghon be able, never.
And do you imagine, I holla'd, dat I be such a madman as ta try n' cheat, Thrasymachus, biatch? I might as well shave a lion.
Why, he holla'd, you done cooked up tha attempt a minute ago, n' you failed.
Enough, I holla'd, of these civilities. It is ghon be mo' betta dat I should ask you a question: Is tha physician, taken up in dat strict sense of which yo ass is bustin lyrics, a heala of tha sick and a maker of scrilla, biatch? And remember dat I be now bustin lyricz of tha true physician.
A heala of tha sick, he replied.
And tha pilot-that is ta say, tha true pilot-is he a cold-ass lil captain of sailors and a mere sailor?
A captain of sailors.
Da circumstizzle dat he sails up in tha shizzle aint ta be taken tha fuck into account; neither is he ta be called a sailor; tha name pilot by which he is distinguished has not a god damn thang ta do wit sailin yo, but is significant of his skill n' of his thugged-out authoritizzle over tha sailors.
Straight-up true, he holla'd.
Now, I holla'd, every last muthafuckin art has a interest?
Certainly.
For which tha art has ta consider n' provide?
Yes, dat is tha aim of art.
And tha interest of any art is tha perfection of it-this n' not a god damn thang else?
What do you mean?
I mean what tha fuck I may illustrate negatively by tha example of tha body. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Suppose you was ta ask mah crazy ass whether tha body is self-sufficin and has wants, I should reply: Certainly tha body has wants; fo' tha body may be ill n' require ta be cured, n' has therefore interests ta which tha art of medicine ministers; n' dis is tha origin n' intention of medicine, as yo big-ass booty is ghon acknowledge fo' realz. Am I not right?
Quite right, he replied.
But is tha art of medicine and any other art faulty and deficient up in any qualitizzle up in tha same stupid-ass way dat tha eye may be deficient up in sight and tha ear fail of hearing, n' therefore requires another art ta provide fo' tha interestz of seein n' hearing-has art up in itself, I say, any similar liabilitizzle ta fault and defect, n' do every last muthafuckin art require another supplementary art ta provide fo' its interests, n' dat another n' another without end, biatch? Or have tha arts ta look only afta they own interests, biatch? Or have they no need either of themselves and of another?-havin no faults and defects, they have no need ta erect them, either by tha exercise of they own art and of any other; they have only ta consider tha interest of they subject-matter. For every last muthafuckin art remains pure n' faultless while remainin true-that is ta say, while slick n' unimpaired. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Take tha lyrics up in yo' precise sense, n' tell mah crazy ass whether I be not right.
Yes, clearly.
Then medicine do not consider tha interest of medicine yo, but tha interest of tha body?
True, he holla'd.
Nor do tha art of horsemanshizzle consider tha interestz of tha art of horsemanshizzle yo, but tha interestz of tha horse; neither do any other arts care fo' themselves, fo' they have no needs; they care only fo' dat which is tha subject of they art?
True, he holla'd.
But surely, Thrasymachus, tha arts is tha supaiors n' rulaz of they own subjects?
To dis he assented wit a phat deal of reluctizzle.
Then, I holla'd, no science and art considaz and enjoins tha interest of tha stronger and supaior yo, but only tha interest of tha subject n' weaker?
Dude done cooked up a attempt ta contest dis proposizzle also yo, but finally acquiesced.
Then, I continued, no physician, up in so far as he be a physician, considaz his own phat up in what tha fuck he prescribes yo, but tha phat of his thugged-out lil' patient; fo' tha true physician be also a rula havin tha human body as a subject, n' aint a mere scrilla-maker; dat has been admitted?
Yes yes y'all.
And tha pilot likewise, up in tha strict sense of tha term, be a rula of sailors n' not a mere sailor?
That has been admitted.
And such a pilot n' rula will provide n' prescribe fo' tha interest of tha sailor whoz ass is under him, n' not fo' his own and tha rulerz interest?
Dude gave a reluctant 'Yes yes y'all.'
Then, I holla'd, Thrasymachus, there is no one up in any rule who, up in so far as he be a ruler, considaz and enjoins what tha fuck is fo' his own interest yo, but always what tha fuck is fo' tha interest of his subject and suitable ta his thugged-out art; ta dat he looks, n' dat alone he considaz up in everythang which he says n' do.
When our crazy-ass asses had gots ta dis point up in tha argument, n' every last muthafuckin one saw dat tha definizzle of justice had been straight-up upset, Thrasymachus, instead of replyin ta me, holla'd: Tell me, Socrates, have you gots a nurse?
Why do you ask such a question, I holla'd, when you ought rather ta be answering?
Because her ass leaves you ta snivel, n' never wipes yo' nose: her ass has not even taught you ta know tha shepherd from tha sheep.
What makes you say that, biatch? I replied.
Because you fancy dat tha shepherd and neatherd fattens and tendz tha sheep and oxen wit a view ta they own phat n' not ta tha phat of his dirty ass and his crazy-ass master; n' you further imagine dat tha rulaz of states, if they is true rulaz, never be thinkin of they subjects as sheep, n' dat they is not studyin they own advantage dizzle n' night. Oh, no; n' so entirely astray is you up in yo' ideas bout tha just n' unjust as not even ta know dat justice n' tha just is up in realitizzle anotherz phat; dat is ta say, tha interest of tha rula n' stronger, n' tha losz of tha subject n' servant; n' injustice tha opposite; fo' tha unjust is lord over tha truly simple n' just: he is tha stronger, n' his subjects do what tha fuck is fo' his crazy-ass muthafuckin interest, n' minista ta his happiness, which is straight-up far from bein they own. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Consider further, most foolish Socrates, dat tha just be always a loser up in comparison wit tha unjust. First of all, up in private contracts: wherever tha unjust is tha partner of tha just yo big-ass booty is ghon find that, when tha partnershizzle is dissolved, tha unjust playa has always mo' n' tha just less. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Secondly, up in they dealings wit tha State: when there be a income-tax, tha just playa will pay mo' n' tha unjust less on tha same stupid-ass amount of income; n' when there be anythang ta be received tha one gains not a god damn thang n' tha other much. Observe also what tha fuck happens when they take a office; there is tha just playa neglectin his thugged-out affairs n' like sufferin other losses, n' gettin not a god damn thang outta tha public, cuz he is just; moreover he is hated by his wild lil' playaz n' acquaintizzle fo' refusin ta serve em up in unlwack ways. But all dis is reversed up in tha case of tha unjust man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I be bustin lyrics, as before, of injustice on a big-ass scale up in which tha advantage of tha unjust is most apparent; n' mah meanin is ghon be most clearly peeped if our crazy-ass asses turn ta dat highest form of injustice up in which tha criminal is tha happiest of men, n' tha sufferers and em whoz ass refuse ta do injustice is da most thugged-out miserable-that is ta say tyranny, which by fraud n' force takes away tha property of others, not lil by lil but wholesale; comprehendin up in one, thangs sacred as well as profane, private n' public; fo' which actz of wrong, if he was detected perpetratin any one of em singly, he would be punished n' incur pimped out disgrace-they whoz ass do such wrong up in particular cases is called robberz of temples, n' man-stealaz n' burglars n' swindlaz n' gangbangas. But when a playa besides takin away tha scrilla of tha playa hatas has done cooked up slavez of them, then, instead of these namez of reproach, he is termed aiiight n' blessed, not only by tha playa hatas but by all whoz ass hear of his havin achieved tha consummation of injustice. For mankind censure injustice, fearin dat they may be tha suckaz of it n' not cuz they shrink from committin it fo' realz. And thus, as I have shown, Socrates, injustice, when on a sufficient scale, has mo' strength n' freedom n' mastery than justice; and, as I holla'd at first, justice is tha interest of tha stronger, whereas injustice be a manz own profit n' interest.
Thrasymachus, when he had thus spoken, having, like a funky-ass bath-man, deluged our ears wit his fuckin lyrics, had a mind ta go away. But tha company would not let him; they insisted dat he should remain n' defend his thugged-out lil' position; n' I mah dirty ass added mah own humble request dat he would not leave us. Thrasymachus, I holla'd ta him, pimpin man, how tha fuck suggestizzle is yo' remarks, muthafucka! And is you goin ta run away before you have fairly taught and hustled whether they is true and not, biatch? Is tha attempt ta determine tha way of manz thuglife so lil' small-ass a matter up in yo' eyes-to determine how tha fuck thuglife may be passed by each one of our asses ta tha top billin advantage?
And do I differ from you, he holla'd, as ta tha importizzle of tha enquiry?
Yo ass step tha fuck up rather, I replied, ta have no care and thought bout us, Thrasymachus-whether our crazy-ass asses live mo' betta and worse from not knowin what tha fuck you say you know, is ta you a matter of indifference. Prithee, playa, do not keep yo' knowledge ta yo ass; our crazy-ass asses is a big-ass party; n' any benefit which you confer upon our asses is ghon be amply rewarded. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! For mah own part I openly declare dat I be not convinced, n' dat I do not believe injustice ta be mo' gainful than justice, even if uncontrolled n' allowed ta have free play. For, grantin dat there may be a unjust playa whoz ass be able ta commit injustice either by fraud and force, still dis do not convince mah crazy asz of tha supaior advantage of injustice, n' there may be others whoz ass is up in tha same stupid-ass predicament wit mah dirty ass. Perhaps our crazy-ass asses may be wrong; if so, you up in yo' wisdom should convince our asses dat our crazy-ass asses is mistaken up in preferrin justice ta injustice.
And how tha fuck be I ta convince you, he holla'd, if yo ass is not already convinced by what tha fuck I have just holla'd; what tha fuck mo' can I do fo' yo slick ass, biatch? Would you have mah crazy ass put tha proof bodily tha fuck into yo' souls?
Heaven forbid, muthafucka! I holla'd; I would only ask you ta be consistent; or, if you chizzle, chizzle openly n' let there be no deception. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. For I must remark, Thrasymachus, if yo big-ass booty is ghon recall what tha fuck was previously holla'd, dat although you fuckin started by definin tha true physician up in a exact sense, you did not observe a like exactnizz when bustin lyricz of tha shepherd; you thought dat tha shepherd as a shepherd tendz tha sheep not wit a view ta they own phat yo, but like a mere diner and banquetter wit a view ta tha pleasurez of tha table; or, again, as a trader fo' sale up in tha market, n' not as a shepherd. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Yet surely tha art of tha shepherd is concerned only wit tha phat of his subjects; he has only ta provide tha dopest fo' them, since tha perfection of tha art be already ensured whenever all tha requirementz of it is satisfied. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! And dat was what tha fuck I was sayin just now bout tha ruler. I conceived dat tha art of tha ruler, considered as ruler, whether up in a state and up in private life, could only regard tha phat of his wild lil' flock and subjects; whereas you seem ta be thinkin dat tha rulaz up in states, dat is ta say, tha true rulaz, like bein up in authority.
Think, muthafucka! Nay, I be shizzle of dat shit.
Then why up in tha case of lesser offices do pimps never take em willingly without payment, unless under tha idea dat they govern fo' tha advantage not of themselves but of others, biatch? Let mah crazy ass ask you a question: Is not tha nuff muthafuckin arts different, by reason of they each havin a separate function, biatch? And, mah dear illustrious playa, do say what tha fuck you think, dat our crazy-ass asses may cook up a lil progress.
Yes, dat is tha difference, he replied.
And each art gives our asses a particular phat n' not merely a general one-medicine, fo' example, gives our asses game; navigation, safety at sea, n' so on?
Yes, he holla'd.
And tha art of payment has tha special function of givin pay: but our crazy-ass asses do not confuse dis wit other arts, any mo' than tha art of tha pilot is ta be trippin wit tha art of medicine, cuz tha game of tha pilot may be improved by a sea voyage. Yo ass would not be inclined ta say, would you, dat mastabation is tha art of medicine, at least if our crazy-ass asses is ta adopt yo' exact bust of language?
Certainly not.
Or cuz a playa is up in phat game when he receives pay you would not say dat tha art of payment is medicine?
I should not.
Nor would you say dat medicine is tha art of receivin pay cuz a playa takes fees when he is engaged up in healing?
Certainly not.
And our crazy-ass asses have admitted, I holla'd, dat tha phat of each art is specially confined ta tha art?
Yes yes y'all.
Then, if there be any phat which all artists have up in common, dat is ta be attributed ta somethang of which they all have tha common use?
True, he replied.
And when tha artist is benefited by receivin pay tha advantage is gained by a additionizzle bust of tha art of pay, which aint tha art professed by him?
Dude gave a reluctant assent ta this.
Then tha pay aint derived by tha nuff muthafuckin artists from they respectizzle arts. But tha truth is, dat while tha art of medicine gives game, n' tha art of tha builder buildz a house, another art attendz em which is tha art of pay. Da various arts may be bustin they own bidnizz n' benefitin dat over which they preside yo, but would tha artist receive any benefit from his thugged-out art unless he was paid as well?
I suppose not.
But do he therefore confer no benefit when he works fo' nothang?
Certainly, he confers a funky-ass benefit.
Then now, Thrasymachus, there is no longer any doubt dat neither arts nor posses provide fo' they own interests; but, as our crazy-ass asses was before saying, they rule n' provide fo' tha interestz of they subjects whoz ass is tha weaker n' not tha stronger-to they phat they attend n' not ta tha phat of tha supaior fo' realz. And dis is tha reason, mah dear Thrasymachus, why, as I was just now saying, no one is willin ta govern; cuz no one likes ta take up in hand tha reformation of evils which is not his concern without remuneration. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. For, up in tha execution of his work, n' up in givin his ordaz ta another, tha true artist do not regard his own interest yo, but always dat of his subjects; n' therefore up in order dat rulaz may be willin ta rule, they must be paid up in one of three modez of payment, scrilla, and honour, and a penalty fo' refusing.
What do you mean, Socrates, biatch? holla'd Glaucon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da first two modez of payment is intelligible enough yo, but what tha fuck tha penalty is I do not understand, and how tha fuck a penalty can be a payment.
Yo ass mean dat you do not understand tha nature of dis payment which ta tha dopest pimps is tha pimped out inducement ta rule, biatch? Of course you know dat ambizzle n' avarice is held ta be, as indeed they are, a thugged-out disgrace?
Straight-up true.
And fo' dis reason, I holla'd, scrilla n' honour have no attraction fo' them; phat pimps do not wish ta be openly demandin payment fo' governin n' so ta git tha name of hirelings, nor by secretly helpin themselves outta tha hood revenues ta git tha name of gangbangas fo' realz. And not bein ambitious they do not care bout honour. Wherefore necessitizzle must be laid upon them, n' they must be induced ta serve from tha fear of punishment fo' realz. And this, as I imagine, is tha reason why tha forwardnizz ta take office, instead of waitin ta be compelled, has been deemed dishonourable. Now tha worst part of tha punishment is dat he whoz ass refuses ta rule is liable ta be ruled by one whoz ass is worse than his dirty ass fo' realz. And tha fear of this, as I conceive, induces tha phat ta take office, not cuz they would yo, but cuz they cannot help-not under tha idea dat they is goin ta have any benefit and enjoyment themselves yo, but as a necessity, n' cuz they is not able ta commit tha task of rulin ta any one whoz ass is mo' betta than themselves, and indeed as phat. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! For there is reason ta be thinkin dat if a cold-ass lil hood was composed entirely of phat men, then ta avoid crib would be as much a object of contention as ta obtain crib be at present; then our crazy-ass asses should have plain proof dat tha true rula aint meant by nature ta regard his own interest yo, but dat of his subjects; n' every last muthafuckin one whoz ass knew dis would chizzle rather ta receive a funky-ass benefit from another than ta have tha shizzle of conferrin one. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So far be I from agreein wit Thrasymachus dat justice is tha interest of tha stronger. This latter question need not be further discussed at present; but when Thrasymachus says dat tha thuglife of tha unjust is mo' advantageous than dat of tha just, his freshly smoked up statement appears ta mah crazy ass ta be of a gangbangin' far mo' straight-up character. Which of our asses has spoken truly, biatch? And which sort of life, Glaucon, do you prefer?
I fo' mah part deem tha thuglife of tha just ta be tha mo' advantageous, he answered.
Did yo dirty ass hear all tha advantagez of tha unjust which Thrasymachus was rehearsing?
Yes, I heard him, he replied yo, but he has not convinced mah dirty ass.
Then shall our crazy-ass asses try ta find some way of convincin him, if our crazy-ass asses can, dat he is sayin what tha fuck aint true?
Most certainly, he replied.
If, I holla'd, he makes a set rap n' our crazy-ass asses make another recountin all tha advantagez of bein just, n' he lyrics n' our crazy-ass asses rejoin, there must be a numberin n' measurin of tha phats which is fronted on either side, n' up in tha end our crazy-ass asses shall want judges ta decide; but if our crazy-ass asses proceed up in our enquiry as our crazy-ass asses lately did, by bustin admissions ta one another, our crazy-ass asses shall unite tha officez of judge n' advocate up in our own peeps.
Straight-up phat, he holla'd.
And which method do I understand you ta prefer, biatch? I holla'd.
That which you propose.
Well, then, Thrasymachus, I holla'd, suppose you begin all up in tha beginnin n' answer mah dirty ass. Yo ass say dat slick injustice is mo' gainful than slick justice?
Yes, dat is what tha fuck I say, n' I have given you mah reasons.
And what tha fuck is yo' view bout them, biatch? Would you call one of em virtue n' tha other vice?
Certainly.
I suppose dat you would call justice virtue n' injustice vice?
What a cold-ass lil charmin notion, muthafucka! So likely too, seein dat I affirm injustice ta be profitable n' justice not.
What else then would you say?
Da opposite, he replied.
And would you call justice vice?
Fuck dat shit, I would rather say sublime simplicity.
Then would you call injustice malignity?
No; I would rather say discretion.
And do tha unjust step tha fuck up ta you ta be wise n' phat?
Yes, he holla'd; at any rate em of em whoz ass is able ta be perfectly unjust, n' whoz ass have tha juice of subduin states n' nations; but like you imagine mah crazy ass ta be rappin' of cutpurses. Even dis profession if undetected has advantages, though they is not ta be compared wit em of which I was just now bustin lyrics.
I do not be thinkin dat I misapprehend yo' meaning, Thrasymachus, I replied; but still I cannot hear without amazement dat you class injustice wit wisdom n' virtue, n' justice wit tha opposite.
Certainly I do so class them.
Now, I holla'd, yo ass is on mo' substantial n' almost unanswerable ground; fo' if tha injustice which you was maintainin ta be profitable had been admitted by you as by others ta be vice n' deformity, a answer might done been given ta you on received principles; but now I perceive dat yo big-ass booty is ghon call injustice honourable n' strong, n' ta tha unjust yo big-ass booty is ghon attribute all tha qualitizzles which was attributed by our asses before ta tha just, seein dat you do not hesitate ta rank injustice wit wisdom n' virtue.
Yo ass have guessed most infallibly, he replied.
Then I certainly ought not ta shrink from goin all up in wit tha argument so long as I have reason ta be thinkin dat you, Thrasymachus, is bustin lyrics yo' real mind; fo' I do believe dat yo ass is now up in earnest n' is not amusin yo ass at our expense.
I may be up in earnest and not yo, but what tha fuck is dat ta yo slick ass?-to refute tha argument is yo' bidnizz.
Straight-up true, I holla'd; dat is what tha fuck I have ta do: But will you be so phat as answer yet one mo' question, biatch? Do tha just playa try ta bust any advantage over tha just?
Far otherwise; if he did he would not be tha simple amusin creature which he is.
And would he try ta go beyond just action?
Dude would not.
And how tha fuck would he regard tha attempt ta bust a advantage over tha unjust; would dat be considered by his ass as just and unjust?
Dude would be thinkin it just, n' would try ta bust tha advantage; but he would not be able.
Whether he would and would not be able, I holla'd, aint ta tha point. My fuckin question is only whether tha just man, while refusin ta have mo' than another just man, would wish n' claim ta have mo' than tha unjust?
Yes, he would.
And what tha fuck of tha unjust-does he claim ta have mo' than tha just playa n' ta do mo' than is just?
Of course, he holla'd, fo' he fronts ta have mo' than all men.
And tha unjust playa will strive n' struggle ta obtain mo' than tha unjust playa and action, up in order dat he may have mo' than all?
True.
Our thugged-out asses may put tha matter thus, I holla'd-the just do not desire mo' than his fuckin like but mo' than his unlike, whereas tha unjust desires mo' than both his fuckin like n' his unlike?
Nothang, he holla'd, can be mo' betta than dat statement.
And tha unjust is phat n' wise, n' tha just is neither?
Dope again, he holla'd.
And aint tha unjust like tha wise n' phat n' tha just unlike them?
Of course, he holla'd, he whoz ass iz of a cold-ass lil certain nature, is like em whoz ass iz of a cold-ass lil certain nature; he whoz ass is not, not.
Each of them, I holla'd, is like fuckin his fuckin like is?
Certainly, he replied.
Straight-up phat, Thrasymachus, I holla'd; n' now ta take tha case of tha arts: you would admit dat one playa be a musical muthafucka n' another not a musical muthafucka?
Yes yes y'all.
And which is wise n' which is foolish?
Clearly tha musical muthafucka is wise, n' he whoz ass aint a musical muthafucka is foolish.
And he is phat up in as far as he is wise, n' bad up in as far as he is foolish?
Yes yes y'all.
And you would say tha same stupid-ass sort of muthafuckin thang of tha physician?
Yes yes y'all.
And do you think, mah pimpin playa, dat a musical muthafucka when he adjusts tha lyre would desire and claim ta exceed and go beyond a musical muthafucka up in tha tightenin n' loosenin tha strings?
I do not be thinkin dat he would.
But he would claim ta exceed tha non-musical muthafucka?
Of course.
And what tha fuck would you say of tha physician, biatch? In prescribin meats n' dranks would he wish ta go beyond another physician and beyond tha practice of medicine?
Dude would not.
But he would wish ta go beyond tha non-physician?
Yes yes y'all.
And bout knowledge n' ignorizzle up in general; peep whether you be thinkin dat any playa whoz ass has knowledge eva would wish ta have tha chizzle of sayin and bustin mo' than another playa whoz ass has knowledge. Would he not rather say and do tha same stupid-ass as his fuckin like up in tha same stupid-ass case?
That, I suppose, can hardly be denied.
And what tha fuck of tha ignorant, biatch? would he not desire ta have mo' than either tha knowin and tha ignorant?
I dare say.
And tha knowin is wise?
Yes yes y'all.
And tha wise is phat?
True.
Then tha wise n' phat aint gonna desire ta bust mo' than his fuckin like yo, but mo' than his unlike n' opposite?
I suppose so.
Whereas tha bad n' ignorant will desire ta bust mo' than both?
Yes yes y'all.
But did our crazy-ass asses not say, Thrasymachus, dat tha unjust goes beyond both his fuckin like n' unlike, biatch? Were not these yo' lyrics?
They were.
And you also holla'd dat tha just aint gonna go beyond his fuckin like but his unlike?
Yes yes y'all.
Then tha just is like tha wise n' phat, n' tha unjust like tha evil n' ignorant?
That is tha inference.
And each of em is like fuckin his fuckin like is?
That was admitted.
Then tha just has turned up ta be wise n' phat n' tha unjust evil n' ignorant.
Thrasymachus done cooked up all these admissions, not fluently, as I repeat em yo, but wit off tha hook reluctizzle; it was a hot summerz day, n' tha perspiration poured from his ass up in torrents; n' then I saw what tha fuck I had never peeped before, Thrasymachus blushin fo' realz. As our crazy-ass asses was now agreed dat justice was virtue n' wisdom, n' injustice vice n' ignorizzle, I proceeded ta another point:
Well, I holla'd, Thrasymachus, dat matter is now settled; but was our crazy-ass asses not also sayin dat injustice had strength; do you remember?
Yes, I remember, he holla'd yo, but do not suppose dat I approve of what tha fuck yo ass is sayin and have no answer; if however I was ta answer, you would be like certain ta accuse mah crazy asz of haranguing; therefore either permit mah crazy ass ta have mah say out, and if you would rather ask, do so, n' I will answer 'Straight-up phat,' as they say ta story-tellin oldschool women, n' will nod 'Yes' n' 'No.'
Certainly not, I holla'd, if contrary ta yo' real opinion.
Yes, he holla'd, I will, ta please you, since yo big-ass booty is ghon not let mah crazy ass speak. What else would you have?
Nothang up in tha ghetto, I holla'd; n' if yo ass is so disposed I will ask n' you shall answer.
Proceed.
Then I will repeat tha question which I axed before, up in order dat our examination of tha relatizzle nature of justice n' injustice may be carried on regularly fo' realz. A statement was done cooked up dat injustice is stronger n' mo' bangin than justice yo, but now justice, havin been identified wit wisdom n' virtue, is easily shown ta be stronger than injustice, if injustice is ignorizzle; dis can no longer be dissed by any one. But I wanna view tha matter, Thrasymachus, up in a thugged-out different way: Yo ass would not deny dat a state may be unjust n' may be unjustly attemptin ta enslave other states, and may have already enslaved them, n' may be holdin nuff of em up in subjection?
True, he replied; n' I will add dat tha dopest n' most perfectly unjust state is ghon be most likely ta do so.
I know, I holla'd, dat such was yo' position; but what tha fuck I would further consider is, whether dis juice which is possessed by tha supaior state can exist and be exercised without justice and only wit justice.
If yo ass is muthafuckin right up in yo' view, n' justice is wisdom, then only wit justice; but if I be right, then without justice.
I be delighted, Thrasymachus, ta peep you not only noddin assent n' dissent yo, but bustin lyrics which is like pimpin.
That is outta civilitizzle ta you, he replied.
Yo ass is straight-up kind, I holla'd; n' would you have tha phatnizz also ta inform me, whether you be thinkin dat a state, and a army, and a funky-ass crew of robbers n' gangbangas, and any other gang of evil-doers could act at all if they injured one another?
No indeed, he holla'd, they could not.
But if they abstained from injurin one another, then they might act together better?
Yes yes y'all.
And dis is cuz injustice creates divisions n' hatredz n' fighting, n' justice imparts harmony n' thang; aint dat true, Thrasymachus?
I agree, he holla'd, cuz I do not wish ta quarrel wit yo thugged-out ass.
How tha fuck phat of you, I holla'd; but I should like ta know also whether injustice, havin dis tendency ta arouse hatred, wherever existing, among slaves and among freemen, aint gonna make em don't give a fuck bout one another n' set em at variizzle n' render em incapable of common action?
Certainly.
And even if injustice be found up in two only, will they not quarrel n' fight, n' become enemies ta one another n' ta tha just?
They will.
And suppose injustice abidin up in a single person, would yo' wisdom say dat her ass loses and dat her ass retains her natural power?
Let our asses assume dat her ass retains her power.
Yet aint tha juice which injustice exercisez of such a nature dat wherever her ass takes up her abode, whether up in a cold-ass lil hood, up in a army, up in a gangbangin' family, and up in any other body, dat body is, ta begin with, rendered incapable of united action by reason of sedizzle n' distraction; n' do it not become its own enemy n' at variizzle wit all dat opposes it, n' wit tha just, biatch? Is not dis tha case?
Yes, certainly.
And aint injustice equally fatal when existin up in a single person; up in tha straight-up original gangsta place renderin his ass incapable of action cuz he aint at unitizzle wit his dirty ass, n' up in tha second place bustin his ass a enemy ta his dirty ass n' tha just, biatch? Is not dat true, Thrasymachus?
Yes yes y'all.
And O mah playa, I holla'd, surely tha godz is just?
Granted dat they are.
But if so, tha unjust is ghon be tha enemy of tha gods, n' tha just is ghon be they playa?
Feast away up in triumph, n' take yo' fill of tha argument; I aint gonna oppose you, lest I should displease tha company.
Well then, proceed wit yo' lyrics, n' let mah crazy ass have tha remainder of mah repast. For our crazy-ass asses have already shown dat tha just is clearly wiser n' mo' betta n' abla than tha unjust, n' dat tha unjust is incapable of common action; nay more, dat ta drop a rhyme as our crazy-ass asses did of pimps whoz ass is evil actin at any time vigorously together, aint strictly true, fo' if they had been perfectly evil, they would have laid handz upon one another; but it is evident dat there must done been some remnant of justice up in them, which enabled em ta combine; if there had not been they would have injured one another as well as they suckas; they was but half-villains up in they enterprises; fo' had they been whole villains, n' utterly unjust, they would done been utterly incapable of action. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. That, as I believe, is tha truth of tha matter, n' not what tha fuck you holla'd at first. But whether tha just gots a funky-ass mo' betta n' happier thuglife than tha unjust be a gangbangin' further question which our crazy-ass asses also proposed ta consider. I be thinkin dat they have, n' fo' tha reasons which I have given; but still I should like ta examine further, fo' no light matter be at stake, not a god damn thang less than tha rule of human life.
Proceed.
I will proceed by askin a question: Would you not say dat a horse has some end?
I should.
And tha end and bust of a horse and of anythang would be dat which could not be accomplished, and not so well accomplished, by any other thang?
I do not understand, he holla'd.
Let mah crazy ass explain: Can you see, except wit tha eye?
Certainly not.
Or hear, except wit tha ear?
No.
These then may be truly holla'd ta be tha endz of these organs?
They may.
But you can cut off a vine-branch wit a thugged-out dagger and wit a cold-ass lil chisel, n' up in nuff other ways?
Of course.
And yet not so well as wit a pruning-hook done cooked up fo' tha purpose?
True.
May our crazy-ass asses not say dat dis is tha end of a pruning-hook?
Our thugged-out asses may.
Then now I be thinkin yo big-ass booty is ghon have no hang-upin understandin mah meanin when I axed tha question whether tha end of anythang would be dat which could not be accomplished, and not so well accomplished, by any other thang?
I understand yo' meaning, he holla'd, n' assent.
And dat ta which a end be appointed has also a excellence, biatch? Need I ask again whether tha eye has a end?
It has.
And has not tha eye a excellence?
Yes yes y'all.
And tha ear has a end n' a excellence also?
True.
And tha same stupid-ass is true of all other thangs; they have each of em a end n' a special excellence?
That is so.
Well, n' can tha eyes fulfil they end if they is wantin up in they own proper excellence n' gots a thugged-out defect instead?
How tha fuck can they, he holla'd, if they is blind n' cannot see?
Yo ass mean ta say, if they have lost they proper excellence, which is sight; but I have not arrived at dat point yet. I would rather ask tha question mo' generally, n' only enquire whether tha thangs which fulfil they endz fulfil em by they own proper excellence, n' fail of fulfillin em by they own defect?
Certainly, he replied.
I might say tha same stupid-asz of tha ears; when deprived of they own proper excellence they cannot fulfil they end?
True.
And tha same stupid-ass observation will apply ta all other thangs?
I agree.
Well; n' has not tha ass a end which not a god damn thang else can fulfil, biatch? fo' example, ta supaintend n' command n' deliberate n' tha like fo' realz. Is not these functions proper ta tha soul, n' can they rightly be assigned ta any other?
To no other.
And aint thuglife ta be reckoned among tha endz of tha soul?
Assuredly, he holla'd.
And has not tha ass a excellence also?
Yes yes y'all.
And can her ass and can her ass not fulfil her own endz when deprived of dat excellence?
Biatch cannot.
Then a evil ass must necessarily be a evil rula n' supaintendent, n' tha phat ass a phat ruler?
Yes, necessarily.
And our crazy-ass asses have admitted dat justice is tha excellence of tha soul, n' injustice tha defect of tha soul?
That has been admitted.
Then tha just ass n' tha just playa will live well, n' tha unjust playa will live ill?
That is what tha fuck yo' argument proves.
And he whoz ass lives well is blessed n' aiiight, n' he whoz ass lives ill tha reverse of aiiight?
Certainly.
Then tha just be aiiight, n' tha unjust miserable?
So be dat shit.
But happinizz n' not misery is profitable.
Of course.
Then, mah blessed Thrasymachus, injustice can never be mo' profitable than justice.
Let this, Socrates, he holla'd, be yo' entertainment all up in tha Bendidea.
For which I be indebted ta you, I holla'd, now dat you have grown gentle towardz mah crazy ass n' have left off scolding. Nevertheless, I have not been well entertained; but dat was mah own fault n' not yours fo' realz. As a epicure snatches a taste of every last muthafuckin dish which is successively brought ta table, he not havin allowed his dirty ass time ta smoke up tha one before, so have I gone from one subject ta another without havin discovered what tha fuck I sought at first, tha nature of justice. I left dat enquiry n' turned away ta consider whether justice is virtue n' wisdom and evil n' folly; n' when there arose a gangbangin' further question bout tha comparatizzle advantagez of justice n' injustice, I could not refrain from passin on ta dat fo' realz. And tha result of tha whole rap has been dat I know not a god damn thang at all. For I know not what tha fuck justice is, n' therefore I be not likely ta know whether it is and aint a virtue, nor can I say whether tha just playa be aiiight and unaiiight.