August 14, 2015 | Posted in Reggie A HollyWOOF Star

Reggie-Part-58-350PX-2Yup! That’s the question. And that Hamlet guy never stops asking! (BarkBark! This is so dramatic!)

Hamlet, the Prince of Denmark (sometimes called Omlette or Hermit by his friends) isn’t exactly a laugh a minute. I have the feeling that if he had a dog, he wouldn’t really take care of it. I don’t think he’d abuse an animal. Oh, no! I just don’t think he’d care about it, play with it, give him or her interesting things to eat and fun toys to play with. (Maybe he’d have a Doghouse Jester, though. That could be fun!)

I mean, how can a guy who can’t decide to live or not, concentrate on caring for a pet? That’s the realquestion, here! WOOFWOOFRight?

To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether ’tis Nobler in the mind to suffer
The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune,
Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them: to die, to sleep
No more; and by a sleep, to say we end
The Heart-ache, and the thousand Natural shocks
That Flesh is heir to?

‘Sounds like a bratty big kid to me. What’s so noble about “outrageous fortune”? (Humans with lots of money have nothing else to do but think about what having lots of money means. ARFhrumph!)

But, if Hamlet kills himself, he’s afraid he’ll have nightmares when he is “shuffled off this mortal coil” and go to wherever mortals go;  translation: when he no longer lives in the palace where his entire dysfunctional human family reside, behind velvet drapes, and sit in really big gold-framed chairs, balancing their crowns on their heads.

 

Blah, blah, blah, Hammie.

 

He has second thoughts. He thinks his own sense of right and wrong will not allow him to kill himself.

 

Thus Conscience does make Cowards of us all,
And thus the Native hue of Resolution
Is sicklied o’er, with the pale cast of Thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment,
With this regard their Currents turn awry,
And lose the name of Action.

 

Hamlet talks about the pros and cons in what is called a soliloquy; in other words, you talk to yourself for a very long time. When I talk to myself, I don’t capitalize my words, do you?

“Where did I last Lay that Skinny bone from last night’s Supper?”

Nah.

Doesn’t work for me.