A Historical
Round Table On Civility
by Jon Sindell
Moderator:
Welcome to today’s edition of
Historical Round Table, where influential figures
past and present discuss timeless topics. Our
panelists today are Abraham Lincoln, a former
president; Mark Twain, a humorist; William
Shakespeare, a playwright; SumSicChick, a modern
American slam poet, activist, and hella
influential thought leader who has more than 3,700
followers; and ChunxForBreakfast, a YouTube
sensation.
Our topic
today is Civility. Suppose we begin with Mr.
Lincoln. Mr. President—
Lincoln:
Now, Mr. Prescott, there’s no need for
formalities. Just plain “Abe” will do.
I’m sure you’ll remember that our first
president, Mr. Washington, eschewed all high-falutin’
incidents of office.
SumSicChick
(peering at Lincoln): SMH.
Lincoln
(with warm, befuddled smile): I beg your
pardon, miss. SMH?
SumSicChick:
OMG! Get a clue!
ChunxForBreakfast
(talking behind hand): Ape Breath.
Lincoln
(chuckling): I must confess, your
contemporary vernacular makes me feel like the
near-sighted snake who fell in love with a rope.
OMG?
SumSicChick
(rolling eyes): OMG! Oh! My! God!
Lincoln
(pointing at face with a self-deprecating grin):
Miss, I ask you. In a year of Sundays, could you
ever conceive of this craggy relief map of a face
as our Lord’s countenance?
SumSic:
No, because I “can’t conceive“ of
any man at all being the face of Our Goddess. If
there is one.
Lincoln:
I have faith not only that the Almighty exists,
but that His judgments are altogether righteous
and true.
SumSicChick:
You’re such a patriarch!
Lincoln
(humbly bowing): Thank you. You know, in
my time, many charitably called me Father Abraham,
though I’m sure I did not merit the epithet.
The fact is, many called me much worse.
SumSicChick:
SMDH
Lincoln
(chuckling): I think I begin to grasp
the tenor of the time. Brevity is the soul of wit,
as the great bard said. Is it not so, Mr.
Shakespeare?
Shakespeare
(bowing head with dignified modesty): “...
and tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes...”
Of course, Polonius was a tedious old fool.
SumSicChic:
Old fool, that’s the point! And dead is old!
And here I sit in hell, surrounded by dead white
males!
Twain
(eyes twinkling, pointing with cigar):
As you can see, young lady, the rumors of my
death have been greatly exaggerated.
Shakespeare
(dipping quill pen): Zounds, sir, that’s
good! I am sure you have observed that great
writers steal.
Twain:
No need to steal, sir. If you like it
that much, it’s yours.
SumSicChic:
Ugh! Do you dead white men even realize how
irrelevant you are, how toxic and ... just ...
ugh!
ChunxForBreakfast:
mimes dying of asphyxiation, rolls onto
floor.
Shakespeare:
In my age, such a knavish affront would beget a
duel.
SumSicChick:
In your age, toxic masculinity was accepted.
ChunxForBreakfast
sits up and rings bell.
Shakespeare:
In my age, the man who let his beard be pulled
would oft lose his purse and gain cuckold’s
horns.
Lincoln:
In my day, the fear of becoming a rapier’s
pin cushion would muzzle many an unwise gibe.
Shakespeare:
‘Reputation, reputation, reputation.’
‘Who steals my purse steals trash, but he
that filches from me my good name ... makes me
poor indeed.’ Is it not so, sir?
Lincoln:
Iago spoke the truth, Mr. Shakespeare, though his
character was akin to that of the snake I have
mentioned. But can anyone tell me how one guards
that most precious bauble, reputation, in today’s
world?
ChunxForBreakfast:
Yelp!
Twain:
That man reminds me of the old hound dog that
climbed into a barrel of tar thinking it was
molasses.
Moderator:
I perceive an implicit consensus
emerging that civility is linked to preserving
one’s reputation.
Lincoln:
Insofar as the judicious restraint of rash speech
is intertwined with civility, I believe you stand
on solid ground.
SumSicChick
(checking phone): No, actually, 745
people thumbed up my statement that your f&*in*
*#^*** about civility is a tool of oppression to
maintain your patriarchal white hetero-normative
power.
ChunxForBreakfast
(checking phone): And my live stream
shows mega likes for my take on civility, which
is basically this: (emits sustained rumbling
flatulence)
Lincoln:
Mr. Shakespeare, Mr. Twain, may I offer you gents
a ride back back to the past? It would appear
that our time here is done.
Twain:
In more ways than one, sir. (flicking cigar ash
into ashtray of history). In more ways than one.
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