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HAMLET v.2.0

To <beep> or not to <beep>, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the RAM to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous buggy programs,
Or to take arms against a sea of spam,
And by crashing, end them? To log-off, to sleep;
No more, and by sleep to say we end
The Windows session and a thousand unfinished sub-routines
That silicon is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To log-off, to sleep;
To sleep, perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of logged-off what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off the mouse-cord coil.
Must give us pause. There's the viruses
That make calamity of apple Mac.
For who would bear the shiny-happies of ash,
The trolls smug grin, the proud reg's misery,
the pangs of flame-war love, the hacker's delay,
the insolence of Garland, and the threads
that patient merit of our boredom reads
When he himself might his quietus make
With a mere shutdown? Who would these NG's bear?
To grunt and swear against such little brain,
But that the dread of something after them,
That undiscovered bus stop, from whose bourn
Only ashers seem unlucky enough to return, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear the trolls we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus a lack of CO does makes cowards of us all:
And thus the dark red skin of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of failed ODs
And enterprises of great wit and wisdom,
With this regard their currents turn away
And lose the name of ''. Soft you now,
The fair Hermotimus. Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all our posts remembered.

-Hermotimus Boukephalos &
Snow Corpse

Last update: Saturday, August 19, 2000 11:08

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