>>>Written one tedious evening afore the evolution of "blocking the ad" ... round about the year of two thousand and three.

Shakespeare on Pop-ups

Introduction

Recent reports have surfaced claiming that the Bard himself has, it appears, returned to his earthy brothers and sisters ... a reincarnation a few would have us believe. It seems that recently a twenty-two year old Berkeley student was found confused and roaming the California campus, and adamantly claiming to be the original upstart crow. Even more interesting, it was noted that he kept ranting that Ben Johnson was an lascivious fake, and that Chris Marlowe should have been stabbed in both eyes. Furthermore, throughout his diatribe the agitated student feverishly clutched a scribbled manuscript, thrusting it provokingly at the growing crowd.

This rage, of course, led to the young man's incarceration. A check of his ID identified him as David Luong, hometown Pleasanton, CA, and currently an Environmental Studies student at U.C. Berkeley. Under questioning, David claimed that the last thing he recalled before leaving his dorm room was listening to a sound track of Elizabethan minstrels (a rather odd choice of music he admits, but an interest he has had all his life), and setting down at his computer to browse. The rest he claims is a blank, and he has no idea where the manuscript came from or to whom it might belong.

Hence, it was this manuscript (written in a rather ornate script) that led one of the arresting officers, who had an affection for the fine arts, to speculate that David must be the reincarnate of Shakespeare. David is said to have scoffed at the notion, and questioned the mental state of the officer. The officer retained possession of the manuscript. It should be noted that David returned home only to find his computer obliterated. The officer, convinced of his speculations, sold the manuscript to The Globe, as in magazine, and subsequently the content of the tattered manuscript was printed in a recent edition. David Luong is suing both the officer and The Globe.

Herein lies the mystery. What say you?

Act II, Scene I: The Street

(Flourish. A gathering of neighbors and Marcus. Kathryn appears.)

Kathryn: She has departed? See you
what temper plagued her unnaturally?
Prithee, Marcus! Keep not this untimely
gossip from the fray. The lady weighs
heavy upon our hearts, and our ears
prickle with unabashed concern.

Marcus: In sooth? Concern? My thoughts
deem your ears prickle with tales
yet to be spoke in haste.

Kathryn: Marcus, sir, mock us not!
Bait us not! Tell us, sir.

Crowd: Yes, speak to us. Speak!

Marcus: Then I speak contrary to
my wiser self. Closer now. It shall be so.
I release the tale upon demand
how came the lady to her fretful woe.

Gloom moved in upon her, oft at night.
Commence she would, adorned with glee
still dallying upon her brow, but yon window ajar
awarded witness without compassion to both
her complacence and her woeful rage.

Kathryn: Dear sir, what could it be that
makes one sail twixt complacency and rage?

Marcus: What makes it so? But think neighbor!
Why pop-ups, dear Katheryn, make it so.
Pop-ups it be that drove our unfortunate
friend to this unexpected insanity.

Kathryn: Fallen victim to insanity.
What path did this mania take?
Was it traveled fast or slow?

Marcus: Her hands, they did nimbly fly
the broad board of keys at night.
So content she was wooing words
across the dazzling screen.

Kathryn: And to browse no doubt?

Crowd: (in agreement) Ye, to browse, to browse.

Marcus: So be it, as you say. But they,
those loathsome up-they-pops
would not let stand her contentment.

A simple damn, first, did trip
her tongue, followed by still a damn,
one more time or two.
But alas, she could not brace her wrath
which quickly tumbled into the mire,
that spew forth "shite" ... and "shite" twice be said.

Increasing the fervor of a constant click,
it matched the fervor of her wrath.
The mouse did pound upon the pad,
whence came, "God damn, son of a rabid hound."

I heard her give cry to her son,
"Forward boy, to my side
and give me hope. What can be done
to rub these harried handbills out?"

Kathryn: The answer was not within his reach?

Marcus: In truth, it was within his reach,
but not within his time.

Kathryn: So the selfish boy abandoned her
to this misery?

Marcus: The truth once more it be.
And she did set forth to reconcile
her temper. But, up they popped
and up they popped incessantly.
All was lost. Now sanity was
the source of her abandonment.

She screamed. She wailed.
"Out, out damn pop-up" time
and one more time again.
The world's reason was lost.
The broad board of keys set forth
across the room. The mouse
found its death beneath the foot.
Once a screen so captivating
lay in diminished pieces strewn
tragically across the floor.

Further she leaped into
a downward spiral. Muttering
to herself," Up they pop. Up they pop."
And begging still, "Out, out damn pop-up."

From mine own window, this sadness
I did witness all. Aside my privilege I stood silent.

I must go hence, ladies.
Forth with, I must leave thee.

Kathryn: Stay, fair Marcus. You tell us not
who beckoned the authorities?

Marcus: I know not. Perchance her son.
It was not I.

Kathryn: Her manner upon her leave?

Marcus: Ladies, let it lie at this.
When from out the doorway
she did emerge, she uttered only,
"May the makers of these damn
up-they-pops rot in hell
along with me!"

(exit Marcus, Katheryn and crowd)

lol ... jeanne rene 5/03