|Thy Mother is thy mother
||[Dec. 8th, 2005|09:56 pm]
Act 1 Scene 1
YourDad : Were it that I was insincere and but affecting my love for thee, I would be as a vi implimentation on a unix, perfection thrown away.
YourMum : Ah, but some well chose words can be speak of their honesty, pray?
YourDad : Chide thy mockings! If thy but felt as I...
YourMum : Perchance I would conjure words as thee to keep all I "felt" available to feel. Love is but a drugging of the senses, prethee
YouSuck : I do but wish that convoluted language was less used for it feels it is but escapism for those less willing or able to use it better ways.
If language could be true,
I would be closer to you.
Act 1 Scene 2
YourMum : Ahhhh! Your mum.
Act 1 Scene 3
YourMum : Have thy seen the polliteness of these low Yuvvs?
YourDad : bothered, I can not be, to mock the lamentations of those who refuse to apply themselves, but reflect on thine railery taken too far as words of attack upon them.
Sam : Peni.
Act 2 Scene 1
YourMum : For my country! Or my faith! Or whatfor else I believe, I shall not revoke, for that is a sign of the week!
YourDad : Today, but the fashions are; but fickleness could indeed be the epitony of the moment, wherefore acceptance is championed as it's hero.
Act 2 Scene 2
YourDad : Ahh! Your mum is your mum.
Act 2 Scene 3
YourMum : these constant interuptions! Aha! Meta theatre! My wit proceeds! I am done.
YourDad : You have no appriciation of the conceptual!
YourMum : Nay! 'twas too deep for me at birth, it's social commentry is alone in advancing society.
YourDad : A second irony, your concept adheres to your satire's goal!
YourMum : The meta! For it is too much.
The meaning, by study, may be obtained,
what is that for those who will but be entertained?
Act 3 Scene 1
YourMum : Art thee gay?
YourDad : of course not! Should you be?
YourMum : Does thine retort betray thy wish for the same gender?
YourDad : I shall being the wroth of punishment on thee for thy offence!
YourMum : It should ne'er gone this far!
YourDad : too late! Thine art defeated!
YouSuck : That spiralled as the fools who chase sptites, they become as caracatures themselves.
And men, by lean,
do oft offence to others, dream.
Act 3 Scene 2
YouSuck : You suck
It seems I have been compromised and assimilated, does it not?
Act 3 Scene 3
YourMum : Upon! The time flows onwards and expands into the lazy hours. Both my glass and my mind are for want of it's removal, for, by faith, it is penance that it allows us to play.
YourDad : Time! None of it we have! Your moon will invalidate all I say.
YourMum : Faith, it shan't lest you repeat what I say, for they wit ist more than it!
YourDad : I have lost, All I do be wrong. all I hope be fallacy. Kindness is my only hope.
YourMum : You suck!
YourDad : obsequious flattery is the only way.
YouSuck : This argument shall end when temps are neigh,
and they, once more, in love, are high,
If someone t'other I should not be,
when then, is, what I do not me?
And now it is time for this play to end,
until, for greater profit, I should append!
Epilogue (spoken by YouSuck)
As this triolgy of 3 draws itself to an extinction, but what fate can we ask, unashamedly, at the hands of those who critique us? Hypocracy indeed is embedded, 'tis it not, in the nature of what it is, and what it is is but satire disguised as foolery and foolery described as meaning. For what is said, is not inverse to what ncecessitates what is said, for irony in satire, may itself say something. Does confusion tell us much? "Perhaps 'tis elitist", where arguments flow from here, tis ironoc that the clever are the best to justify an null argument.
for faith, see real social comentry in all around you and stick with it always.