Thursday, December 30, 2010

To Be, oR NuTS To Be...

I am reposting this because "refudiate" was recently proclaimed word of the year and the Queen of the North is still offering televised excuses for its origination, the latest: "I mistakenly pressed "f" instead of "p".

You will recall that earlier she claimed it was a Shakespearean play on words.

What Doesn't she just fess up and say: "I thought it was a word." People can relate to that.

Because she is worried that her whole intellectual clown act can unravel ant minute, that's why.

LooK aT YouR KeYBoaRD and think about it ;-)


To be, or too nuts to be--that is my question:
Whether 'tis numbler for the mind to offer
The slings and arrows of outrageous distortions
Or to take up automatic firearms against a sea of social liberalism
 And by opposing end them.
To die, to sleep--You Betcha!
No more--and by a waking sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That fluster me and my hairdo..
'Tis a mental constipation
Devoutly to be FOX news dished,
To try, to sleep--
To sleep--perchance to dream: ay, there's the hubbub,
For in that sleep of what dreams may come
When we get shuffled along the moron curve,
Must give us mental menopause.
Where's the refudiation
That makes chicken soup of life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of the internet
Th' decider's bong, the proud clown's costume
The pangs of desperation, the corrupt profits
The insolence of public office, and the spurns
That patient mental patients merit of th' unworthy tactics,
When she herself might her twitterfeed make
With a bare bodkin?
Who would firearms bear,
To grunt and sweat under in a weary trailer,
But that the dread of something after a lowlife of trash in
The undiscovered Northern counrty, from whose boneheaded exploits
No politician returns, puzzles the wild
And makes us rather bare those ills we have
Than fly to other countries that we know nothing of?
Thus science and knowledge does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of T Party Revolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of absent thought,
And enterprise of great pitch and vacuous moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action. -- Soft you now,
Oh unfairly elected -- Political Nymphs, in thy offices
May all my carnivalations be memorialized.

No comments:

Post a Comment