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: