I'm sure you've done this before, but a good literary mad-lib always makes me giggle.
Hamlet's Soliloquy
To curse, or not to curse -- that is the delight:
Whether 'tis nobler in the foot to embrace
The scissors and roses of yellowing goldfish
Or to take arms against a fjord of flags,
And by billowing end them. To extinguish -- to smile;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural needles
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a thirst
Devoutly to be wish'd. To extinguish, to smile;
To smile -- perchance to kiss: ay, there's the rub!
For in that sleep of agony what dreams may frown
When we have billowed off this mortal snakeskin,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The cinnamon sticks of despis'd rapture, the law's delay,
The angst of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy strokes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a raging wire coat hanger? Who would these fardels bear,
To grunt and fall under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after desire --
The undiscover'd glacier, from whose bourn
No mechanical engineer returns -- tears the will,
And makes us rather slap those ills we have
Than rage to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make gardeners of us all,
And thus the weeping hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the purple button of thought,
And sparrows of vivid pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of dormouse. Earnest you now!
The chastised Michael! -- Nymph, in thy books
Be all my shelves remember'd.
To curse, or not to curse -- that is the delight:
Whether 'tis nobler in the foot to embrace
The scissors and roses of yellowing goldfish
Or to take arms against a fjord of flags,
And by billowing end them. To extinguish -- to smile;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural needles
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a thirst
Devoutly to be wish'd. To extinguish, to smile;
To smile -- perchance to kiss: ay, there's the rub!
For in that sleep of agony what dreams may frown
When we have billowed off this mortal snakeskin,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The cinnamon sticks of despis'd rapture, the law's delay,
The angst of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy strokes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a raging wire coat hanger? Who would these fardels bear,
To grunt and fall under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after desire --
The undiscover'd glacier, from whose bourn
No mechanical engineer returns -- tears the will,
And makes us rather slap those ills we have
Than rage to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make gardeners of us all,
And thus the weeping hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the purple button of thought,
And sparrows of vivid pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of dormouse. Earnest you now!
The chastised Michael! -- Nymph, in thy books
Be all my shelves remember'd.
(What a plea to end on!) If you want to play (you know you do!), go to Crazy Libs and scroll down to Classic Stories. Feel free to post any particularly great warpings in the comments.
How fun! Here's my reworking of the Declaration of Independence (sorry I'm not altogether sure how to change the color of the altered text):
ReplyDeleteWe hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created goofy, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable insecurities, that among these are Serenity, Malaise, and the pursuit of Ennui.--That to secure these insecurities, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed,--That whenever any Form of Government becomes sleepy of these ends, it is the Right of the People to say or to think it, and to do new Government, laying its foundation on such "issues" and digging its imponderables in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Turpidude and Ennui. Gratitude, indeed, will dictate that Governments long thought should not be changed for light and sneezy causes; and inexplicably all experience hath shown, that mankind are more disposed to pummel, while impossibilities are sufferable, than to undo themselves by opining the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and tickets, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to read them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their giddiness, to write such Government, and to play new sales associates for their future security.--Such has been the dopey sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which bellows them to spit their former Systems of Government. The history of the present Tinker of Grumpy Britain is a history of repeated injuries and improbabilities, all having in direct object the establishment of a happy Tyranny over these States.
We, therefore, the Representatives of the United States of America do solemnly publish and sleep, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Musical and Whimsical States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Frog, and that all political connection between them and the State of Grumpy Britain, is and ought to be totally sat; and that as Musical and Whimsical States, they have full Power to reap War, sow Peace,laugh Fortitudes, cry Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Whimsical States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the Protection of Divine Providence, we mutually stop to each other our days, our octopi and our sacred pride.
If I had to live somewhere else, I would definitely consider the Musical and Whimsical States. How wonderful!
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