To tweet, or not to tweet—that is the question… Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous argument Or to take arms against a sea of errors, And by opposing end them(??) To post, to speak No more; and by this to say we end The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks That Twitter is home to. ’Tis a conflagration Devoutly to be shunned. To post, to speak, To speak, perchance to fight: ay, there’s the rub! For in that timely post what fights may come When we have fired off our brilliant quip, Must give us pause. There’s the respect That makes calamity of such long arguments. For who would bear the endless stream of fools, The oppressor’s justification, the proud man’s selfie, The propaganda of desperate men, the law’s pretense, The imbeciles in office, and the slights That a thoughtful person takes, When he himself might find peace and quiet With a close button? Who would these arguments bear, To fight and feud with a frenzied mind, But that dread of something after tweeting— The endless reply-chain, from whose bourn No Twitterer returns—frightens the meek And makes us rather bear those fools we see Than engage with others we know not of? Thus cacophony doth make cowards of us all, And thus the valued art of sound thought Is sicklied o’er with the pale dread of clamor And conversations of great pith and moment With this regard their currents turn awry And lose the name of interaction.
Listen to this on Spoken: