Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this Alaskan array;
And all the clouds that lour'd o'er our land
From the deep bosom of the ionosphere charg-ed
Now are high latitudes bound with victorious aurora;
Our cross-ed dipoles raised up for monuments;
Our atmosphere charged by wattage exponential
From magnetosphere to lithosphere.
Grim-visaged war hath electrifed his frontal attack;
And now, instead of launching ICBMs
To fright the souls of coerc-ed adversaries,
We caper nimbly with electromagnetism
To the lascivious harmonic of a frequency.
But I, that am not shaped for empathy
Nor made to court an worthy venture;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want modesty's majesty
To strut before a wanton, benevolent vocation;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of sympathy by dissembling ego,
Would seek to manipulate the minds of minions
Of this breathing world, scarce half awake,
And this so profoundly and malevolently
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;
Why, I, in this balanced world of beauty,
Have no delight to employ Almighty bounty,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sky
And descant on mine own insecurities:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a benefactor,
To entertain this world and those who dwell herein,
I am determin-ed to prove a malefactor
And squander the intellect God bestowed upon me.
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By capacitance, earthquake and cyclotron,
To set nation and nation
In deadly hate the one against the other:
And if human nature be as true and just
As I am subtle, false and treacherous,
This day should lucid thought be mew'd up.
A prophecy, which says that 'H' //Hecksher?
Of Eastlund's heirs the controller shall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here