To Sleep Perchance to Stream

[DesDownunder]

To Sleep Perchance to Stream (Hamlet's Problem)

Sleep is nigh upon me,

So I must bid adieu to thee,

To dream of men so cute,

Of thighs near a muscly glute,

And wondering in my sleep, to pee, or not to pee.

[Cole Parker]

With all apologies to the Bard?

Deep, deep apologies?

C

[DesDownunder]

With all apologies to the Bard?

Deep, deep apologies?

C

On the contary,

The Bard did appear to me,

As an apparition intent,

On arising in the firmament,

To reveal his original text for all to see.

[Cole Parker]

His text for all us to see

Couldn't have been about pee

He's the one who said, "True,

You must be to you,"

And nothing at all about wee.

C

[DesDownunder]

Why do I have the feeling a certain Bard is whizzing in his grave?

err, that doesn't seem right somehow, does it?

[Cole Parker]

No. It isn't. You forgot the question mark.

C

[Richard Norway]

No. It isn't. You forgot the question mark.

C

HA! See Cole. I'm not the only one.

[Bruin Fisher]

Once again Des has hit upon a profound truth:

Shakespeare suffered from the censor's pencil. The passage that we know as:

To be, or not to be: that is the question:

Whether 'tis 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 heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to, 'tis 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:

Hamlet Act 3 Scene 1 by one Willm. Shakspear (as edited for his early 17^th Century audience)

was never meant to read like that. A careful reading reveals that he was constrained to fill in with fresh words those phrases and words that had been crossed out by an over-zealous censor - and the indication is that he had only minutes before the performance to do it. You can see that some of his insertions don't make much sense. Here is what the great man actually wrote - and doesn't it make more sense this way:

To pee, or not to pee: that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in one's bed to suffer

The stings and arrows of distended bladder,

Or to release the strain, the seas of wee,

And after shaking, flush them? To cry: to sleep;

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The pressure and the bladder's natural shocks

The prostate's heir to, 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To lie asleep;

To sleep: perchance to stream: give it a rub;

For in that sleep of lust what dreams may come

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must tent our drawers:

Hamlet Act 3 Scene 1 by one Willm. Shakspear (as edited for his early 21^st Century audience)

With thanks to Des for this brilliant idea that I've picked up and run with...

[DesDownunder]

What have I unleashed?

What horror is this before me spread?

All praise to Bruin, the Bard would ecstatic be,

To know you have released the streams of his thought,

In a deluge of driblets from the source.

Truth now does engulf our minds and our hearts,

For we are but mortals behind the stage,

Where we lurk in hiding our lusty needs,

While pondering most foul and dirty deeds.

Excerpt from an unknown, newly discovered play by the Bard, called MacBruin is a doin'

[Cole Parker]

As You Like It -

All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely sprayers

Hamlet -

Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: ... Now get you to my lady's chamber pot,

and tell her, let her paint to an inch from the top, to this favour she must come;

make her laugh at that.

I feel unclean!

C

[Bruin Fisher]

Lovely, Cole, unclean maybe, but right up there!

[colinian]

Here is what the great man actually wrote - and doesn't it make more sense this way:

To pee, or not to pee: that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in one's bed to suffer

The stings and arrows of distended bladder,

Or to release the strain, the seas of wee,

And after shaking, flush them? To cry: to sleep;

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The pressure and the bladder's natural shocks

The prostate's heir to, 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To lie asleep;

To sleep: perchance to stream: give it a rub;

For in that sleep of lust what dreams may come

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must tent our drawers:

Hamlet Act 3 Scene 1 by one Willm. Shakspear (as edited for his early 21^st Century audience)

With thanks to Des for this brilliant idea that I've picked up and run with...

Bruin,

That... is... just... magnificent! I'll bet the Old Bard is looking down and LHAO right about now.

Colin