Hamlet updated

July 24, 2006

To be, or not to be: that is, at this moment in time, basically the sixty four thousand dollar question:
Whether at the end of the day ’t is nobler in the mind to suffer
The awesome double whammies of outrageous fortune,
Or to literally take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by thinking outside the box end them? To die: to sleep:
I hear what you’re saying; and by a sleep to say we end
The ongoing angst and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to,—’t is a pay-off
Absolutely to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: who knows, to dream: ay, there ’s the bottom line:
Bear with me, for in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When the fact of the matter is we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must make us take a rain check: there ’s the respect
That, to be perfectly honest with you, makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time 24/7,
When he himself might move the goal-posts and his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? it’s not rocket science.
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
Is someting we need like a hole in the head;
But that the heebie-jeebies in terms of some sort of afterlife
The undiscover’d country between a rock and a hard place from whose demarcation line
No crack troops return, boggles the mind
And makes us rather put up with those hassles we have
Than fly to others that we know not of on a suck-it-and see-basis?
Thus conscience does make us sing from the same hymn sheet all;
And thus the native hue of value-added resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of blue sky,
And wheezes with all the nitty-gritty
With this regard don’t come near to addressing the issue,
And lose the name of going forward.
Hamlet. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Here is Mr Shakespeare’s rather antequated effort:


To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether ’t is nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep:
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to,—’t is a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there ’s the rub:
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there ’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels 13 bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover’d country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
Hamlet. Act iii. Sc. 1.

One Response to “Hamlet updated”

  1. Gerry Says:

    An interesting mish-mash of new and “antequated(sp)”, but methinks t’is no improvement


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