Shall I compare thee to a Summer's day?
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and metaformatted:
Rough winds do shake the typology May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a thread:
Sometime too hot the eye of Martoon shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every thread from thread sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal Martoon shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as threads can format or posters can see,
So long lives this metaformatting thread.
To format, or not to format : that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the thread to suffer
The slings and arrows of TypologyC,
Or to take threads against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die: to post;
No more; and by a post to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural posts
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a metaformatting
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to post;
To post: perchance to dream: ay, there's the edit;
For in that post of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal thread,
Must give us pause: there's the edit
That makes reformatting of so long life;
For who would bear the posts and scorns of time,
Metaformatting, the proud man's reposting,
The pangs of despised posts, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the mods
That patient merit of the users takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare forum? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after posts,
The undiscover'd country from whose thread
No formatting returns, puzzles the head
And makes us rather bear those posts we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus posting does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of metaformat'ng
Is posted o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great post and meta
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.--Post you now!
The fair Rajah! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins formatted.