Let the music do the talking.
The Young Lord Hamlet by Philip H. Calderon
I’m not an English scholar but I did take a 400 level Shakespeare course in college (Pass-Fail!) Anyway, I keep coming back to Rosetta as Yorick in my head. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing and you Shakespeare buffs may disagree. If thou doest, thou spleeny, toad-spotted, whey-face can biteth yon bull’s pizzle. Pictured is young Hamlet, riding Yorick, who labored to keep Hamlet entertained.
We all miss a man who made us laugh. Sometimes our sides hurt and occasionally a little pee would spill or we’d pass gas at an inopportune time as a result. His humor was a big part part of what set the hook on this place for me and Kerry Marie reeled me in the rest of the way. His over-the-top, blitzkrieg, word salad postings were incomparable. As someone here commented, he insulted but never demeaned. If I ever responded to one of his comments I secretly cringed in anticipation of a barrage of comments detailing my love of latex fart machines and purple dildos. And, truth be told, it was disappointing not to provoke a response.
I won’t try to duplicate his funniness. I can’t. There was only one Rosetta and any attempt to duplicate him will come up short. Pause. Reflect. Laugh. Memento mori. Give thanks for your blessings even if they’re not as obvious as they once were. I’ll miss your late night musings Rosetta.
Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam
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