Friday, April 1, 2011

Green Eggs and Hamlet

To beda or not to beda, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the world wide web to ponder
The sticks and stones of mundane minds,
Or to take thoughts against a sea of monotony,
And by opposing join them? To think, to write,
Once more; and by a blog to say we embrace 
The collective, and the thousand commentaries
That narcissists are prone to: 'tis a devastation
Devoutly to be read. To think, to write;
To write, perchance to create - ay there's the rub:
For in that writing of life what emotions may come,
When we have logged off this information superhighway,
Must give us peace - there's the review
That makes sanity of so long post.
For who would bear the comments and questions of others,
The pundit's opinion, the child's curse,
The pangs of despised blogs, the hard drive's delay,
The insolence of readers, and the spurns
That patient merit of the uneducated takes,
When he himself might his template make
With a google account? Who would dreary tasks bear,
To sigh and sweat under a flickering light,
But that the dread of something after blogs,
The undiscovered turn of phrase from whose wit
No follower escapes, tests the author,
And makes us rather endure those commitments we have
Than race to others we know not of?
Thus conscience does make bloggers of us all,
And thus the native sound of cricket chirping
Is powered o'er with the weak will of language,
And schemes of average ideal and art,
With this regard their mediocrity turns wry,
And lose the name of anonymity. Quiet you now
The fair admirer! Luddite, in thy diary 
Be all my posts archived. 


  1. DUDE! This is SO COOL! You are totes the bomb. Seriously. I bet this took FOREVER!

    "To write, perchance to create" <-- Lol, I see what you did there.