Shakespeare Anagram: A Midsummer Night’s Dream
From A Midsummer Night’s Dream:
And thorough this distemperature we see
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts
Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
And on old Hiems’ thin and icy crown
An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer,
The childing autumn, angry winter, change
Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,
By their increase, now knows not which is which.
And this same progeny of evil comes
From our debate, from our dissension:
We are their parents and original.
Shift around the letters, and it becomes:
A sharp column in the Washington Post this month, wherein faded global warming is reframed in some depth as a hidden security issue, hit home.
In this column, he described three harsh ways that these few overwhelming horrors can render war: rampant scarcity from hotter, drier lands; renewed open-handed abundance; and fresh issues of common sovereignty, making two geopolitical zones of tension.
We should take this solemn threat to our security seriously, or we’re finished.