Fly me to the moon

Shkspr’s 12th nite n txtng

My friend Erik of the Culture Raven blog just did a hilarious translation experiment — he rendered a chunk of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night into texting shorthand. Check out his entry and you can compare his revision against the original Shakespearean text:


1s mor, Cesario, gt thee 2 yond same sovereign cruelty: tel her, my lov, mor noble thN D wrld, Prizes nt qty of drty lands; D parts dat fortuN hath bestow’d upon her, tel her, I hld as giddily as fortuN; bt ‘tis dat miracL n queen of gems dat nature pranks her n attracts my soul

bt f she cnot lov U, sir?

I cnot B so ansD

Sooth, bt U must. sA dat sme ldy, as praps der S, Hath 4 ur lov a gr8 a pang of <3 As Uv 4 Olivia: U cnot lov her; U tel her so; must she nt thN B ansD?

there’s no woman’s sides cn bide D beatN of so tuff a pa$N As lov doth giv my <3; no woman’s <3 So big, 2 hld so mch; dey lack retention. Alas, their lov may B call’d appetite, No motion of D liver, bt D palate, dat suffA surfeit, cloyment n revolt; bt myn S ll as :o9 as D sea, n cn digest as mch: mak no compare btw dat lov a O+ cn bear me n dat I O Olivia.

Ay, bt I know—

w@ dzt thou knw?

2 wel w@ lov women 2 men may O: n faith, thr as tru of <3 as we. My dad had a dautA luvD a mn, As it mYt B, praps, wr I a O+, I shd ur lordship.

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I'm Clive Thompson, the author of Smarter Than You Think: How Technology is Changing Our Minds for the Better (Penguin Press). You can order the book now at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Powells, Indiebound, or through your local bookstore! I'm also a contributing writer for the New York Times Magazine and a columnist for Wired magazine. Email is here or ping me via the antiquated form of AOL IM (pomeranian99).

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