Hamlet for Who and Trek fans
To engage, or not to engage: that is the order Number One:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The phasers and disrupter's of outrageous Romulans ?
Or to take arms against a sea of tribbles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; to try the Holodeck
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand stun settings
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to timetravel: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what daleks may come
When we have shuffled off this final series episode,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the multiple Time Lord regenerations and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the Doctor's contumely,
The pangs of Billie Pipers love, 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
With a bare sonic screwdriver? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a fake wobbling set,
But that the dread of something after death, (Pantomine)
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn Shatner never recovered
No traveller returns from Shangri-La, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than warpspeed to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make Ferengi of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of Cardassian skin,
And NCC-1701 enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Lawxanna! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.