Protonicus Moronicus

From the diary: Tuesday, August 2, 2019.

Last night, exhausted after a five-hour bike ride in this midnight heat, I took a shower, went to bed, and dreamt immediately that I was reading a play attributed to Shakespeare, called (and I kid you not):

PROTONICUS MORONICUS.

And now, three years later, for no good reason --

THE SPASTICALLY TRAGICAL HISTORY OF PROTONICUS MORONICUS.

PRINCE AVOCADO:
How fragrant are the roses of our state,
How dignified the columns and the laws;
Yet much, I fear, is undermined by day
And toppled in the dusk.

GRISTLE:
Beware, my prince!
These nagging undercurrents are the work
Of but one man, a blot upon the realm.

PRINCE AVOCADO:
Moronicus! Indeed, a warning cry:
For as the light of intellect will scatter
The scuttling roaches of the cellar crowd,
So too the pratings of an errant fool,
The bantam dance of squat, priapic bastards,
The twirlings of acephalic imposters,
Shall gad the wary mob to celebration.

GRISTLE:
Indeed, my prince. The blatherings of one
Incite the emulations of the many.

PRINCE AVOCADO:
Contagious are the dull, and dullest dire
Is he, Protonicus Moronicus!
Bring here this armpit of the nation state!

GRISTLE:
Bring forth Protonicus!

PROTONICUS MORONICUS:
Doy doy, doy doy!

PRINCE AVOCADO:
And thus I hear a simpletonic twang,
A string untuned upon a pea-brain's lute,
A siren call that turns our noble crowd
Into a hive of pixilated thick-ohs.

GRISTLE:
See how the common people prance and drool!

PRINCE AVOCADO:
Backbones of our grandeur! Citizens!
What would you have as pilots to your barque:
The pensive iambs of a bardic wit,
The dithyrambs cathartic of the great?
Or would you rather shuffle to a thud
Pounded by a pustule-minded clod?

CITIZENS:
Protonicus Moronicus! We want him!

PRINCE AVOCADO:
Oh fuck it all, this era falls apart!
The pratings of a dope are now anthemic,
High bugle tones for sheep and sheepish lice.

GRISTLE:
Hasten, Prince, an exit!

PROTONICUS MORONICUS:
Doy doy doy!