So this was brought up in my issues thing. And I'm confused about what this means. I don't know what this is asking me to decide. (Though obviously that last guy isn't getting what he wants if he blew up half my office.)
The Issue
As legions of interns scramble to set up a stage in your office, your Minister of Theatrics dramatically announces that his Ministry has organized a play for you. The play purportedly tells a tragic story: the public apathy toward the long-dead but highly-influential Upper North America and Hawaiian playwright Bill Wakesword.
The Debate
“I doth be the poet himself!” Minister Porklet announces, wearing purple robes and a long wig. “Once upon a merry time, my plays amazed those large and small. Now, there’s only one way to ensure Upper North America and Hawaii remains in my thrall. Force my works upon the children, make them read it all! It may be true that the language doth be a few centuries old, but what is in a word? That which we call a Woodeating Spikeball by any other name would be just as Woodeating.”
An intern apparently playing the part of ‘unenthusiastic teenager’ pokes the Minister with a smartphone, causing him to crumble to the floor in mock agony. The intern robotically states, “Alas. Poor Wakesword. I knew him well. I would have surely been willing to get interested in Wakesword if his word choice was easier. If only we could rework Wakesword so that it appealed to me, a disaffected teenager, and my social media habits.”
“All the world’s a stage, Leader, and it doth be time we saw some plays!” announces overconfident actor Rick Rear, dressed in a donkey costume and accidentally stepping on the ‘dead’ Minister. “As I, one of the greatest actors of all time, should know-eth, the best way to spread the brilliance of Wakesword is to fund school drama clubs and ye olde outdoor theatre! If we can coerce these apathetic adolescents, these indifferent infants, these bored brats to act, they will surely see the value of true literature.”
Ka-boom! The wall of your office suddenly explodes, spewing fire and smoke everywhere. As the smoke clears, explosives enthusiast and the director of TransMorphers and Adolescent Monster Samurai Frogs, Michel Cove, strolls in, a second explosion obliterating the Minister’s stage. “This ‘Wakesword’ guy? Heh. His plays are older than my exes. What you need, my friend, are explosion-packed science fiction movies in the curriculum that will leave kids drooling over science and computers! The future is where the money is. The past? Who cares?” Another one of your walls explodes and he grins manically as your office burns around him.
