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A Letter From China
3G or not 3G, that is the question:
This is a modern take on The Bards first soliloquy from Hamlet. Perhaps today these may have been the words he immortally penned? I wrote this as an initial parody from memory, without any editing. It should improve over time + your reader elaborations remain most welcome.

3G or not 3G, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The whims and harrows of a outrageous Service,
or use your arms to make illegal cable connections;
And by securing access: to lie, to seek
Much more; and by a seek, to say we remain connected to
The heart-ache, and a thousand online feeds
That page-refreshed we may be subjected to? Tis a consummation
Devoutly dished. To buy to search,
To surf, perchance to Twitter or Goggle, to Face Book; Ay there's the rub of mouse upon mat,
For in that moment of dearth, what emails may come,
Must give us pause. There is no suspect
That makes Calamity of so short an online feed:
For who would bear the Hackers and Spammers of our time,
The Oppressor's are wrong, the phisher's Contumely, [poor]
The ads for Viagra, the Capitalist's delay [despized]
The insolence of Service providers, and the Scams
That make us patients of the unworthy - who takes,
When they themselves might our Quietus make
With to bare bosom? Who would Fuckwitted bear,
To grunt and sweat online, under disconnected download,
But at the dread of nothing after disconnection,
The undiscovered Website, from whose corporate server
No surfer's pc recovers, Puzzles the anti-virus software,
And makes us rather bear the expense of those ills we have downloaded,
Than install new software from others that we know not of at premium prices.
Thus Consciousness doth make Consumers of us all,
And thus the Sales of Smartphone's and Tablets of International hue and questionable Resolution
Is sicklied o'er, with pale cast for Usability,
And enterprises of global might and monument, [pith]
With this disregard their buyers, their Current accounts return awry audits, [away]
And lose the name of Active suppliers of services pre-paid for. Software you know,
The fair Operator? No connection, in thy Orisons
Be all their sins remembered

by comparison, this is the original:

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 wished. 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. There's the respect
That makes Calamity of so long life:
For who would bear the Key logger's and Trojans of backdoor time,
The Oppressor's wrong, the modern man's Computely, [poor]
The pangs of despised Love, the Law’s delay, [disprized]
The insolence of Office, and the Spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his Quietus make
With a bare Bodkin? Who would Fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered Country, from whose bourn
No Traveller returns, Puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.
Thus Conscience does make Cowards of us all,
And thus the Native hue of Resolution
Is sicklied o'er, with the pale cast of Thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment, [pith]
With this regard their Currents turn awry, [away]
And lose the name of Action. Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia? Nymph, in thy Orisons
Be all my sins remembered

The writer of this total Nonsense is deeply indebted to Wm. Shakespeare's literary genius, without whom we would all be so much poorer

This work including text and associated photographs is Copyright of Jonno Morris (Unless stated otherwise), and may be reproduced for personal and private use under Collective Commons 3 Licence. An email would be appreciated in such circumstances, as would a reference.

You are not allowed to use this information to make money from my work - regardless of how fancy or well paid your lawyers may be.

Some artistic licence has been used arbitrarily in some of these Letters, and whilst most facts are in essence correct, some personal and literary interpretation may have been employed to greater or lesser degrees.
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