Saturday, May 19, 2018
To Do or Not to Do!
That is the question, and so here spurts forth a contemporary quandary, purloine'd from the great classic tragic drama, Hambiskit, by Mr. William Shakyerbootie:
Herein we heareth the soliloquy of yonder young prince Hambiskit, being uttered in the midst of his worst internetual crisis:
To do or not to do: Is that the question?
Whether ’tis nobler in this world to suffer
the slings and arrows of superfluous wwweb buffoonery,
or to sling comments against a viral flood of manipulators
and by opposing outsmart them.
To o’ercome, or to consume more and more?
and by consuming then regurgitate
the spewings of those faceless data-freaks
that the Web is heir to: ’tis a comment
boldly to be keyed.
Just sayin’.
To excel, or to consume?
to consume—perchance to daydream: aye, there’s the flub!
For in that slumber of couch-potato’d mess, what dreams may come?
when we have sluffed off the ancient laborious toil
that flesh was heir to!
Just sayin’.
Yeah, such pathoggery will surely add us pounds; there’s the rub:
there’s the lethergy
that makes such heavy weight of this long life.
For who, tell me who? will now bear the quips and scorns of time—
the hackers’ throng, the elites’ manipul’ry,
the publicized pangs of transgended sex, the laws’ demise,
the insolence of leftists and the the lumps of alt-right grumps.
Our attention to such useless compost daily piles up
while we ourselves with regularity do our deposits drop
from every bare bottom?
Pshaw!
Who, I ask you, who would such far-fetched feces bear?
—to groan and complain in this our cushy couchist pod
until the dread of whatever the hell’s after death—
that unsolicited’d app from whose click no traveller returns—
it wipes our will
and makes us bear those charmin’ ills we have,
rather than fly to other charms we know not of.
Thus, consciousness makes cowards of us all, y’all,
and so the human hue of resolution
is slicked o’er with the clown'ed cast of infotainment.
Then enterprises of great pith and content,
by mere wasting of time, our essential issues get sucked away,
and so we so thoughtlessly delete
the path of action.
To do or not to do, I tell ya, Ophelia Bodelia,
That is the question!
Just sayin’.
King of Soul
Labels:
hackers,
Hamlet spoof,
internet,
poem,
satire,
Shakespeare spoof,
to be or not to be,
tragicomedy,
worldwideweb
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