(With appologies to the Immortal Bard and Hamlet himself, 'Ol Huckleberry struggles with the conservative quandry that Jon Kyl--a fine man--has put us in.)
"To Kyl, or not to Kyl: that is the question:
Whether ‘tis nobler in politics to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous legislation
Or to take arms against a sea of illegal immigration
And by opposing, defeat a Senator?
And by defeat to say we end
The heartache and the thousand taxes and lies
That politics is heir to, ‘tis a royal screwing!
Therefore devoutly we wish to defeat him,
In defeat, perchance, to replace him: ay there’s the rub;
For in the joyful replacement what sophistry will come
When we have shuffled off the offending cur
Must give us pause: there’s the respect
That makes calamity of so free a democracy
For who would bear the whips and scorns of the devil we know,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of interns coddled, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
Within the voting booth? Who would fardles bear,
To grunt and sweat under heavy taxation,
But that dread of something after tar and feather applied,
The unknown quality of Senator new from whose bourn
May put lie to election returns, puzzling the will
And makes us rather bear those Sophi-crats we have
Than to fly to others that we know not of?
Thus non-confidence makes consenters of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. – Soft you now!
The fair Liberty! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all these sins remember’d."
Be well
Whether ‘tis nobler in politics to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous legislation
Or to take arms against a sea of illegal immigration
And by opposing, defeat a Senator?
And by defeat to say we end
The heartache and the thousand taxes and lies
That politics is heir to, ‘tis a royal screwing!
Therefore devoutly we wish to defeat him,
In defeat, perchance, to replace him: ay there’s the rub;
For in the joyful replacement what sophistry will come
When we have shuffled off the offending cur
Must give us pause: there’s the respect
That makes calamity of so free a democracy
For who would bear the whips and scorns of the devil we know,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of interns coddled, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
Within the voting booth? Who would fardles bear,
To grunt and sweat under heavy taxation,
But that dread of something after tar and feather applied,
The unknown quality of Senator new from whose bourn
May put lie to election returns, puzzling the will
And makes us rather bear those Sophi-crats we have
Than to fly to others that we know not of?
Thus non-confidence makes consenters of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. – Soft you now!
The fair Liberty! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all these sins remember’d."
Be well
Huckleberry
(read the related article at PHXNews here: http://phxnews.com/fullstory.php?article=50140 )
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