Loc: Top of the 1959 Registry
To sub, or not to sub, that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous grading, Or to take arms against a sea of graders And by opposing end them. To die—to slab, No more; and by a slab to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That wallet is heir to: 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To sub, to slab; To slab, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub: For in that slab of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause—there's the respect That makes calamity of so long collecting. For who would bear the ex and vg of time, Th'grader's wrong, the proud collector's contumely, The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay, The insolence of posting, and the spurns That patient merit of th'unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare sneak peek? Who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a waiting delivery, But that the dread of something after opening SGC package, The undiscovere'd contents, from whose bourn No submitter returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to message board that we know not of? Thus Official Posting of Grade does make cowards of us all, And thus the native hue of focus/resolution/centering Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of crack-and-resub, And enterprises of great pitcher and batter With this regard their cardboard image turn awry And lose the name of Registry Reward.