(I consider anyone without a sense of humor to be suspect. Humorlessness usually indicates a lot of force in the mind. Perhaps you'll be happy to know I do possess a sense of humor. Perhaps not, because my sense of humor tends toward the obnoxious...)

 Shakespeare in the Ground
(For Raymond J. Krenik, Jr)

BT or not BT, that is the congestion:
Whether 'tis negative gain in the mind to process
The sensations and aberrations of outrageous cases,
Or to take emeters against a sea org of entities,
And by ownership end them? To survive? to eat?
No more goals please; and by Dianetic process to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural somatics
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a cycle of action
Devoutly to be wish'd. To audit, to not;
Dramatized? Perchance to discharge: ay, there's the ridge;
For in what secondary engram what dirty needle may come.
When we have soloed off this overt/withhold,
Must give us a clean slate: there's the reality
That makes certainty of so long fall a blow down;
For who would bear the sore butt of 12 hours in the chair,
The cushion's imprint, the proud back's creakage,
The pangs of sleeping feet, the CS's delay,
The insolence of ethics and the HGC
The staff PCs on the unworthy take,
When he himself might his own quick case crack
With one model session? Who would with RPFers bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something worse than death,
The undiscover'd RPF's RPF from whose bourn
No staffer returns, preventing the wins
And makes us rather bear those PCs we have
Than fly to ourselves that we know not who processed last?
Thus bypassed charge does make cowards of us all;
And thus the non-native state of rationalization
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of PTS,
And enterprises of great stat and income
With this recoil their currents turn to cash,
And lose the name of auditing.--Ssh! You dare not even think!


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