To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last movie of Indiana Jones;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to CGI Gophers. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking gopher, a poor rendering,
That struts and frets his hour upon the screen,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and furry,
Signifying nothing.
Yes, Shakespeare was brilliant...
Poor furry wretches, wheresoe'er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless film,
How shall your CG heads and unrender'd sides,
Your loop'd and window'd animatedness, defend you
From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en
Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp;
Expose thyself to feel what we fans feel,
That thou mayst shake the superflux to them,
And show diehard fans more just.
I was not angry since I came to
the cinema
Until this instant. Take a trumpet, herald;
Ride thou unto the Gophers on yon hill:
If they will fight with us, bid them come down,
Or void the field; they do offend our sight.
If they'll do neither, we will come to them,
And make them skirr away, as swift as stones
Enforced from the old Assyrian slings.
Besides, we'll cut the throats of those we have,
And not a groundhog of them that we shall take
Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so.
What's here? the portrait of a blinking groundhog,
Presenting me a rendering! I will watch it.
How much unlike art thou to Raiders!
How much unlike my hopes and my deservings!
"Who chooseth Crystal Skull shall have as much as he deserves"!
Did I deserve no more than a fool's head?
Is that my prize? Are my deserts no better?
*Holds aloft crystal skull*
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a GGI alien
of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath
borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how
abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at
it. Here hung those gophermallets that I have kissed I know
not how oft. Where be your mounds now? your
gophers? your songs? your flashes of merriment,
that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one
now, to mock your own CGI grinning? quite chap-fallen?
Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let
her paint an inch thick in unconvincing rendering, to this favour she must come; make her laugh at that.