There is a lot of dark, chaotic energy contained in the show that we here at The Niche know as Hate Crimes MD. The weight of sadness and repression palpable in each and every sentence is truly unbearable.
It seems fitting, then, to take that sadness and repression and attempt to make it even worse by substituting House’s words for those of poet AE Housman, whose work in translating such dark energies into verse is unparalleled.

Here are night and hell and I
Wilson [looking at x-rays] I think it’s broken. What’d you do?
House Who made the world I cannot tell; ’tis made, and here I am in hell. My hand though now my knuckles bleed, I never soiled with such a deed.
Wilson This looks like something hard and smooth smashed it.
House And so, no doubt in time gone by, some have suffered more than I, who only spend the night alone and strike my fist upon the stone.
Wilson Makes sense. The brain has a gating mechanism for pain, it registers the most severe injury and blocks out any other.

‘Tis paid with sighs a plenty
Wilson So why were you friends with this guy?
House When I was one-and-twenty I heard a wise man say, ‘Give crowns and pounds and guineas but not your heart away; give pearls away and rubies, but keep your fancy free.’ But I was one-and-twenty no use to talk to me.

And the soul that was born to die for you
Wilson Don’t do this, please. Please. Don’t do this. I’m trying to move on.
House Shake hands, we shall never be friends, all’s over; I only vex you the more I try. All’s wrong that ever I’ve done or said, and nought to help it in this dull head: Shake hands, here’s luck good-bye.
Wilson I have the right to walk away from you, House. There’s a world beyond you, you need to realize that. And even if you don’t- I’m moving on. The next time you knock I’m not answering.
House But if you come to a road where danger or guilt or shame’s to share, be good to the lad that lov-[House is hit with a medical epiphany, turns, leaves without another word]

For so the game has ended
House The night my father got me his mind was not on me; he did not plague his fancy to muse if I should be the son you see.
Wilson You don’t want to say anything-don’t, but go to your father’s funeral. Tell your mom you’re sad, for her.
House The day my mother bore me she was a fool and glad, for all the pain I cost that she had borne the lad that borne she had.
Wilson She wants to think for a moment that she had a happy family so give her a gift. Lie.

Now are he and I asunder
House [singing] Oh were he and I together, shipmates on the fleeted main, sailing through the summer weather to the spoil of France or Spain.
Oh were he and I together, locking hands and taking leave, low upon the trampled heather in the battle lost at eve.

Smile upon your friend to-day
Wilson A problem delayed is a problem denied. [Speaking into phone] Bonnie? We’ll take it.
House You smile upon your friend to-day, To-day his ills are over; You hearken to the lover’s say, and happy is the lover. ‘Tis late to hearken, late to smile, but better late than never; I shall have lived a little while before I die for ever.
“Be good to the lad that lov-” and then turning to go cause he had an epiphany literally ruined my life
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