WOW! A tragedy in 5 (or so)acts... | ADHD Information
THy countrymen shant fret and fretter amoungst the vermin who with handheld cannon attempted to slay the merchant of midnight oil, for wearily twisted webs are spun by deceptions and ill perceptions. THy merchant shall recover from even such a grieveous wound! Thy phycitians are of the most skilled in the land.Yea, but the matters of heart and mind are of another course to trod upon, being merchant and not mercenary,much mayhem maliciously and meticulously awaits the next morn.Enter new Player, DisputinDisputin (dressed impecably, surveys the scene):
So wise so young, they say, do ever live long, but
I say, without characters, fame lives not so long.--
Thus, like the formal vice, Iniquity,
I moralize two meanings in one word.
That Davidornado is a famous man;
With what his valour does enrich his wit,
His wit set down to make his valour live;
Death makes no conquest of this conqueror;
For now he lives in fame, though that not in vain.--
Et tu, Brutus?
Brutus (from some where off stage):
Eh? Too, Brutus is en routeth. Soon as I faint and find my stage presence...
oh man of repairing - thy vaunted courage. thy insightful wonderings. thy steadfastness in the face of adversity --- imparts to me a sense of wonderous strength.
long-liveth the ADD revolution.
oh narrator! i hope my email wasn't that which made your night unruly....
for in truth, i was wallowing in the slough of despond myself, and my dark thoughts twisting through the virtual space may have invaded your 'puter --- questioning but dark nonetheless. dismisseth them as nothing, tis best for all - forsooth.
Narrator (dragging himself, limping, in bloody shards along an empty street, alone, his pink attire now deeply red; mumbling): Oft expectation fails, and most oft there, where most it promises; and oft it hits where hope is coldest, and despair most fits.
The night has been unruly: where we
lay,
Our chimneys were blown down; and, as they say,
Lamentings heard i' the air; strange screams of death,
And prophesying with accents terrible
Of dire combustion and confused events
New hatch'd to the woeful time: the obscure bird
Clamour'd the livelong night: some say, the earth
Was feverous and did shake
Alas, my Prince, for thy did shake speare, and spake.
To Bugz: Thanks is then given, to the God of giving, of life, of fine fare on yonder board, and the finest of ADHDeth! Salvation to those whom followeth His Divine Banner!
Prince (renewed interest unto Countesstrygirl): Then, play on! Fair Countess! With releaf, may thy music slither soothingly from thyne orofie upon release. Another moon, but, O, methinks how slow this old moon wanes! She lingers my desires; like unto a young maiden. Now I rouse myself, where is my crown?! Where is my robe?
aha my connection is back at full strength. hoorah.thy robe is behind the arras - or is that thy arras is beneath thy robe???
thou whoreson zed (that'll be zee in USA) thou unnecessary letter...
Woe is that Man, who doth not delight thee...
Of Gods and generals, little can I spake, shake spears do they, crawling on carpet am I.
Of this life, experience now presents abilities to spake. ADDled though may be, for of life, thus sayeth I: thou hast to get in, to get out...
if i could but findeth it - i might tryeth to get in... however i am lost in a fog of ADDledness. a gentle fog, a happy fog, but i have no way to see...FOrsooth thou army of pink valor, and listen to her victorious chanting upon the winds of wailing words, 'god is a D.J, and thy world in its niaevity , is a simple dance floor upon which ye should shake thou arses and enjoy the moments, Yea not lamenth upon them!
THis ill fog doth exist only within the skulls of those who truly see, thy Creator in in finate wisdom doth bless and curse soothsayers, to see ills of non believers, but as Cassandra, are tied and fettered with burdens of great proportions, unable to remember thou onus thoughts, beriddled in quagmires, thus thou doth not dance merrily, but as a marionette, awkwardly pulled by strings that the fates have dashed upon the floor, hopelessly tied into knots upon knots to be trodden on by rump fed runions. They who have no meaningful thoughts other than the training of thy masters, nary an inkling of human compassion. Truth be seen and awaken thy sleeping companion, intellegence, and avow be taken upon all men of sciences of war and peace, of trade and commerce, upon thou fellow men, seek not thou common grounds, lest ye pledge loyalty to fellow countryman, and seek the boundaries of rationality to defend the freedom of thought! UNCHAIN THY MIND OF PAST AND PRESENT, for we live for the future.
Alas, without hope pandora would have destroyed the world created for mankind, with sins unforgiven, thou art truly lost. Curiously, that ill remaind forsaken of others to be addled with the curses of those believed to be of holy Divination, Tho they know not who their masters are!
Thusly I say to thee,take up thy arms aganst thou foes, rattle thy speares in confrontation of obscene conjecture and blasphemy of known sciences, and defend thou sacred oath of unmeasurable, nay immeasueable thoughts, justly and rightly defend the chaos which doth not gather our people as normals, but as individuals of a common territory!
BECOME UNFETTERED OF THY STRINGS!!!!DANCE AND BE MERRY whethter it be a battleground of boarders or of thought. Thus sayith I the repairer and sergeant of arms( and legs).
THUS TRULU ENDITH :act 1 scene 1
repairman38653.2596064815Thy brutes brute steed was stayed by sands of time, proportional progress pares and peels in the preparations of proclivities for pendulumns. ( set your clocks back). Thy feeling of fein and faint feint faints upon felonious fabrications for fiendish philosophers(scientologist). TO rout the ruffians and rascals with rapier or reason is truly tantamount to taking tantrums towards the pike!DavieO and I decided to delve into the world of the master player (and my namesake) Shake-speare. This is an exert from one of his lesser known works. Anyone may feel free to contribute, as this manuscript is incomplete.
The Lamentable Tragedy of the Dodpopper and the Troll
Royal Servant (relaxing under an oak): Under the cool shade I though to close mine eyes some half an hour when lo, to interupt my purposed rest, towards that shade I might behold, adressed the dodpopper. Upon his blazen shoulders he had in tow a royal of great repute...
shakespeare38652.7602777778sayeth unto me from the lord of the bathroom, flusheth the pot that spew forth the ill from said space myth, flusheth several timeth, to remove the stench of foul that has overcome the peace and goodwill of MEN. Among the stench removed shall be the oderous putrid of said spewers of filth and they shall to come to pass go and collect not 200$.Fools and gold shall show the way to a quick life ending in the two d's of destruction... debt and death.
Righteousness and truth shall prevail and be the guiding light left for all to follow, as a bright beacon of hope.
Prince (feeling not as blue): As Prince, heir to the throne, porcelain or otherwise, how may I assisteth thee? In swirling cyclones of blue in water did find hunks and chunks of blabber; methinks 'tis myth? Perhaps the fated UNbalanced hath found their demise in the flusheth of several timeth, therefore the stench of foul science, spewing from their vain oral orifices. Vomitus, as it were. Oderous, and Onerous, the twins of putricidy...
Prince (turning with a smile unto Zappers of Bugz): Saith thee well, Captain of the Fair Ship, Bugz, Zappers of Bugz! Goeth forth, and feed thy need, warring troll with truth! Forever may thy be proclaiming:
"Righteousness and truth shall prevail and be the guiding light left for all to follow, as a bright beacon of hope."
A wholesome answer i cannot give. my wit's diseased tis A.D.Ded
or addled as Hamlet put so well:
A scullion. Fie upon it, foh! About, my brains! Hum
I have of late - but wherefore I know not - lost my mirth, foregone all custom of exercise, and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors.
What a piece of work is man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god -
And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights me not...
Unbalanced is dead, yeth, thirling in the blue, but the uprising continues! Prince (turning with a smile unto Countesstrygirl): Ahhh, fair maiden! From whither dost thou slither? And lest we let it pass that muster shall be all we will need to accomplish the fight of fights, between the wrong and right. Verily verily I say unto you, smite thee offender with the hindside of a badger, thrice, and let the games begin.
let us not fall into temptations of fruitless men with agendas to foul our vision, but instead rise forth and see that god has given us brains to weed out the mindless banter and rage of few indiscriminate trolls given to live under the bridge in which we pass, with heavy armament and weapons of crass destruction...
move handsomely now as we leave the hinderous bounds of endless babble like the rolling of a brook into a stream and river, which flows to the sea, but as I say,let not the babble of the brook taint the salt of the sea which is wise with reference and experience, undaunted by the ill of others with small minds and no experience and therefore, no heart.
bugzappers38652.8176273148From whiter dost thou slither?
I slitherith from the shadows, seeking my rightful claim to uh, the throne?
Ah yeth, though thith be madneth, yet there ith method in it. what a brazen-faced varlet art thou???The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
Sweets to the sweet........
Prince (turning with a anticipation to Zapper, of the good ship Bugz): Ahhh, Fortooth, Captain! From whither thou dost cometh, dideth thou bringeth a doggyburger bag?
Or is the only bag now the old one, that beggar of shame, force teaching sqaure pegs to fit in round holds, yonder of the westernesse bells?
Yond' Cassius has a lean and hungry lookPrince (turning with a smile unto Countesstrygirl): The throne is thyne to command, Fair Countess!
To Bugz: Spake! And shake spear!!! Thyne reinforcements have riven their elves yonder, in the person of the most angle of spakers, yon Beauty, of the isle of Jones! To Arms! To Arms! All Hale the Voice!
i like him not, nor stands it safe with usto let his madness range
(have to apologise if this comes completely out of context. my
connection to internet is bugzapped - to put it politely - and i keep
losing it every five seconds.) Prince (turning with a hesitant smile unto Countesstrygirl): Repeateth do I; The throne is thyne to command, Fair Countess! But what are thyne eyes beholding, in yon hungry and lean look upon Cassius? doth food fetched from maiden is throwing lifeforce into maximum and so I shall share these good tidings and make an offering of string fries, shakes and burgers for all. as we pledge the allegiance to the drive in, the drive in of america, and to the food public, for which it stands, one salvation , and with god, shall we defeat the seeming indivisiblity , of the hubbard nation and destroy them all.
In other words, eat, praise god and kick hubbards troops to the ground....
bugzappers38652.8318634259Yeth, dear Printh, command I will
If music be the food of love, play on.......................
This is along the style of writing THE Bard excelled in, known as Poetic Comedy. As serious as it may sound, it is only the seriousness of the beholder that determines it's seriocity. Come, partake, and find thyself to be merry...
Go now, or forever hold your peece, confrere! As once the slurry is slinging,
time will be as no more!!! The Bard himself has been quoteth as saying:
Pierce me, doth I not bleed? Toucheth me, doth not I feel?
Dost I strike thou as one who spake and shake spear?
forsooth I washeth my hands upon the suitback of the nearest alien invader from hubbardland, and upon doing such, i am labled sinner. for if my hands are clean, I knoweth his must not be. for it is written inside my coat, like a label unto itself, the inevitable adhd problem for us all to wonder..
TO MEDICATE, OR NOT TO MEDICATE, THAT IS THE QUESTION!!!
I think I need stronger meds, don't you
Medicate, then, o zapper of bugz! why thou arrant butter whoe, thou coteueane & scrattop of scoldes, or didst thou intent to mean you needeth more didpoppers?
I doth believeth that the kitchen-stuff wrangler may be near...
Servant (passionately, feeling fire): Forsooth, the troll is unconscionable.Leave him to our displeasure.There is a litter ready. Lay him in't. The injuries that they themselves procure must be increased. For they are inhuman, with the countenance of mice and the bearing of donkeys. This to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain must needs be terminated. It shall end with us.
I seeth your handeth of suits and companion order, and I rasieth you 3 fold beyond the bidding of last, and I shall reveal my reason in a fortnight, for this wimpy of the cardburger doth spake. Ze chickon iz veryz frezh toniaght. I ze ewe arez, zhall we zay, knot zo entartain-edNarrator (preparing for a comfortable evening in pink): Out, damned spot! Out, I say! One is BALANCED, whoso finds itself wanting; two is the curiously incurious curus; three, let it be thine to name; why, then 'tis
time to do't ;--Hell is murky!--Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier,
and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call
our power to account?--Yet who would have thought the old man to
have had so much blood in him?
errr . . Doth thou say?
*sips her ale*
Servant (rallying his companions for the battle): The day of glory is at hand! Come hither, Hark! None shall stand against the army of righteousness! Those who gather under the banner of BALANCED be tender-minded. Go thee now as the fox who does devour!!
Narrator (looking in the mirror, wearing pink): Aaahhhh, the plot thickens!!! Heidith hath joinedeth useth!!!
ixnay on the balanscray of removalstie fromme the site-ay. wouldn't-aye, wan-tey to spoli-ay, the suprise-ay of-ffay, allay support-ay.By my troth, HeidiMarie, thou carriest the liquor of the Gods, and indeed we shall be gilded by it. Perchance t is a far, far better thing to be reeling ripe from liquor than to be slave to Ritalin, which is as we all may atest, like unto cocaine...
But in truth I say the troll abounds, widowing wenches in the night with it's vengeant air. How may we, with noble fortunes, intervene?What does thou speaketh of, dear shakespeare? For thou not knoweth that I have the sickness of the mind? Here ye, it is the disgraced deficit of attention!
you guys are good... sorry i hope i didn't ruin the story.... carry on... sheri.m38652.7697106482Off with his head!
Narrator (looking pretty darn good in the mirror, wearing pink): By your troth? By my troth! A true Warrior, yonder Heidith! A sailor, of fine seas, gilded by her presence! Perchance it is a far, far better thing to be reeling with Heidith, than with liquor, or ritalinium, cocainium not withstanding!!!
Aside: Narrator doth look a tad bit handsome in pink, I declare!Narrator (looking in the mirror, preening his pinkness):
O, I am fortune's fool!
BALANCED, curus, et.al.
Why dost thou stay?
What dost thou say?
[Enter Prince, attended; Heidith (Warrior Goddess), The Good Doctor (forgeth 'is name, I do), Capulet, their Wives, and others.]
Prince.
Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
pink, it's not for dinner.
speaking of spake and shake. I need feed, so I sent her off to the deed. Lights camera
off with their heads 1
scene one
take one
..........ACTION
Fear not, ye hardy fools, that I must take my departure, lest I should not pass my American Renaissance class!
Heidith, Goddess Warrior, exits left of stage.
BRAVO.
departure leads a sign from the wording on the wall
parting is such sweet sorrow.
forsooth I must fill the battle with both hands, whence shall reinforcements come, my lord.
Narrator (feeling very conFident in his pinkness): Hark! I shall now launch this fray, full farce ahead!
Prince (feeling very blue): this dodipoule, this didpopper.... why thou arrant butter whoe, thou coteueane & scrattop of scoldes, will thou never leave affecting a dead Carcasse.... a wispe, rippe, rippe, you kitchen-stuff wrangler
...a fresh chamber pot full of the evenings' fillings, landing squarely in front of the dodpopper, who, sensing his most delightfully favorite of all smells, forgets his immediate task, and distracts to the new stimuli, skidding to a pernicious halt, spins three times, and begins prancing gayfully over the dainty tidbits... meanwhileWrangler (skipping gleefully towards yonder palace, singing): Hmmm, hmmm...twiddle-de-de....twiddle -de - dum....hmmm, hmmmm..la, la, tra-la, la. O.K. I have 35 minutes....Chicolie, chick, cha-la, cha-la, chekolaromi in a bannica. Bolica, wolica.....can't you seeeeeeeeee. Chicolie chick is meeeeee......
Caliban (irritated): Doddy, with cutting sharpness must thy mind...
Caliban is distracted by an individual in a blindingly bright pink ensemble, skipping gleefully towards yonder palace.
Caliban: How sharper than a serpant's tooth it is to be o'erheard! Stop ye knave! Fight like a man, if one you be!
Caliban jumps on dodpopper's back and, with a slap, the two race towards the wrangler, still skipping obliviously. As the villains approacheth said target, from the palace proper bursts...
Act III, Sc I
The Royal Courtyard at midnight. Enter Caliban, a Venetian troll, engrossed in scheming with the dodpopper. From stage right, the kitchen-stuff wrangler quickly hides himself behind a marble statue of Queen Elizabeth.
Caliban: Th' untended woundings pierce every sense in me! With daggers sharpened we shall slay the wolvish visage of the Prince! What thinkest thou? The time draws nigh...
Dodpopper (drooling): My lord, my mind didst meander from our talk, and I lost sight of our intended aim... why camst we here again?
Caliban sighs. From behind the statue, the wrangler...
Wrangler (wearing pink): now, thisth really won't thdue. I doth think nay, a darker colour donned would fitly be more proper for this night's deeds. A costume! Yes, a costume would hideth mine intentions well this witching evening...A pretty pirate, shall I be, or not to be. That is the question; Answer must I 'ere the darkness falls, and all creatures appeareth, including yonder dodpopper and venetian troll with their wicked shemes.
Hark! Reinforcements are needed, therefore first I musts prepare for tonight's action, to begin at 16:00 PST... (Wrangler slithers away to look for some Levi's)
Prince (his lifeforce draining into pools of blood, gaspingly sayeth):
Afeared be not, noble citizens, for the ADD revolution (gasp) will prevail. The good guys always wineth (gasp gasp). Revenge is thyne, just give it thyme.
Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!--(gasp)
Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest! (gasp)
Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell, (gasp)
His help to crave and my dear hap to tell. (gasp)
Parting is such sweet sorrow. (gasp) (gasp)
(final gas p)
Upon hearing the news of the prince's death, countesstrygirl takes his sword to her breast and plunges it deeply into her heart, yet proving her sincere devotion. Love's power has truimphed! Prince (renewed interest unto Countesstrygirl and the Beauty from the Isle of Jones, yawning and stretching): A dream? A dream world so fancy I did not imagine could exist! In that Case I ARISE, as the Resurrected One, or Two, b/c I don't want the Jesus to strike me down).
In that case, Then, play on! O Beautious Lady! Dance as fairies, Fair Countess! May this triangular dream endeth nevereth liketh a story I heardeth that nevereth endeth...
OMG!...But what is this? Is it gaity? So queer it seems, as a Midsummer's Knight Dreams...To Reality! I say, and leave all things gay...Preferith doth I, the sight of a fine pair of melons, ripe, and tender...and HER lips, dripping as with the honey of youthful frollicking!
Oh, Come All Ye Faithful! And frolick with your Prince! For in thought, as in deed, he hath call Ed thee...
Another moon, but, O, methinks how slow this old moon wanes! She lingers my desires; like unto a young maiden. Now I rouse my elf; Where is my crown?! Thank God my robe is only 20 minutes away in Dallas. but forsooth what is this yonder. living only one hour from the famed 'Dallas' as with the 'Bobby' --- she awoke to find it all but a dream
she liveth again...
hurrahs allround!
A dream it twas! A midsummer nights dream! She lives again, Love's labour's not lost! But J.R. was shot and she knoweth not who put that bullet in him. Wait a sec! This ain't no Fairy Tale!
No Thing Queer
About This
Sthtory
!!!
Narrator (dragging himself, limping, in bloody shards along a street no longer empty, coming upon the bodies of the Fair Ones):
Alas, my Prince, for thy did shake speare, and spake, and now this Beautious widowed Countesstrygirl was widowered away her elf...
I've been betrayed! the fair one whispers. She was unawares of the confused triangle with the tempest Jones. Her eyes groweth dimmer, her breath groweth weaker and so she dies broken hearted only an hour from Dallas. alas - alack, did she not realise twas just a ploy. a fak-ed death to 'scape from family confinementswho did faileth in delivering the message (oh foul wifi, oh perncious email).... oh, wasted youth; oh, frightful death....