Template:Dkt outsourcing plan: Difference between revisions
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Each speaks the fractious tones of jargoned tongue | Each speaks the fractious tones of jargoned tongue | ||
Such patter steep’d, til cup is cold, in leaves of dismal science. | Such patter steep’d, til cup is cold, in leaves of dismal science. | ||
Each a different dismal one | Each a different dismal one, his language apt to smother. | ||
{{Script|Nuncle}}: We understand them not. Nor do they one other. | {{Script|Nuncle}}: We understand them not. Nor do they one other. | ||
{{script|Complicatio}}: | {{script|Complicatio}}: Yea, this is our strife: this bewild’ring ’scape | ||
Of contraptions yoked and tethered as a measur’d beast — | Of contraptions yoked and tethered as a measur’d beast — | ||
Upon whose | Upon whose misunderstanding backs our common fate depends. | ||
And, O! Dilemma! The very men who work these chainèd cranks — | And, O! Dilemma! The very men who work these chainèd cranks — | ||
{{Script|Queen}}: Men? Just men? | {{Script|Queen}}: Men? Just men? | ||
Revision as of 08:46, 24 October 2022
Complicatio: My division’s damned, by unfunny fate To live unloved upon the ledger. We are but cost. ’Tis the rust and stain and curse of clammy gears That require a ruinous peopling. We’ve cut our cloth as best can do But these myriad needed grunts, though housed in meagre lairs And kept safe and well away from clientry, are yet a weight. Each speaks the fractious tones of jargoned tongue Such patter steep’d, til cup is cold, in leaves of dismal science. Each a different dismal one, his language apt to smother. Nuncle: We understand them not. Nor do they one other. Complicatio: Yea, this is our strife: this bewild’ring ’scape Of contraptions yoked and tethered as a measur’d beast — Upon whose misunderstanding backs our common fate depends. And, O! Dilemma! The very men who work these chainèd cranks — Queen: Men? Just men? Complicatio: And women — and those unsure, or curious, or as yet unaligned— Queen: The heavens doth anoint! Complicatio: Milady? Nuncle: Pray, spare the conjugations, sir: Their majesty doth get the point. Queen: It is a pretty speech so far. But has it any meat? Complicatio: I — we — they — am and are and are obliged. They whose allied cadence powers our truck — Queen: The dismal ones? Complicatio: Aye them, with all their rancour — By their inevitable heft, they play as weighty anchors. Nuncle: “Weighty anchors”? None call the Reverend Spooner! Queen: There are eighty of these dismal scientists? Nuncle: More like eight hundred — Complicatio: Eager but, yegads, inconstant. Oafish! Fickle! Slow! I wouldst speed their outputs up, only worser comes with sooner. And so, my liege, my battle plan: we set these Morlocks free. Queen: To do what? Nuncle: To live a carefree life set free of all this drudgery. Complicatio: Should we set the crankshafts free from work-to-rule To run through night and day without cease Even upon the Sabbath. Queen: Crankshafts doth pedal not themselves, Complicatio. Who can turn the wheel without fault or food or rest? Complicatio: You can hire them by the score in Bucharest.