If Ted Cruz’s speech can be remembered in a Shakespearean soliloquy – why not Bernie too?
The Tragedy of Bernie, Prince of Vermont
Act III, Scene 1
Philadelphia. A room in the Castle.
To Bern, or not to Bern – that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of establishment super delegates
Or to take arms against a sea of Clintons,
And by opposing, anger them. To object – to boo –
Once more; and by a boo to say Feel the Bern
The thousand that felt the Bern
That I am heir to. ‘Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To object – to boo.
Yea call the boo – perchance a roll call without super delegates; ay, there’s the rub!
For in that count of elected primary delegates what dreams may come
Where we have come in this campaign,
Must give the party pause. Where’s the respect
That makes strange bedfellows in elections.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of a long cycle,
Th’ oppressor’s wrong, the proud woman’s contumely,
The pangs of despis’d emails, the debates delay,
The insolence of party, and the spurns
That patient merit of th’ unworthy takes,
When she herself might her quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would these insiders bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary campaign schedule,
But that the dread of things after politics –
The uncover’d emails, from whose bourn
A paycheck from the party – puzzles the will,
And makes me rather bear those ills I have
Than run to Wikileaks that we know not of?
Thus hidden emails does make cowards of us all,
And thus the staffers hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of job security,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action – Soft you now!
The fair Wasserman-Schultz – Bitch, in thy orisons
Be all my delegates counted.