I Hate Shakespeare
I hate that I have to challenge myself to be mediocre. I feel life is a shallow pool of misery and I am swimming in the …
I have nothing.
Seriously, I came up with two blogs this week. One was on the limited number of ways to say thank you in the English language, while I believe there are about fifteen or twenty to say marijuana, and maybe a hundred that represent the human reproductive organs. The other was about Shakespeare, in a sort of weak way.
It was this morning. I was driving down the road toward my apartment after having dropped my son off at his job at a very, extremely popular coffee chain in Atlanta (unfortunately, looking for what might be great in Atlanta, GA resulted in a number of trip advisory pages and then this about food.) And as I am driving, that ballet comes into my head, and I am hearing "The dance of the sugar plum fairies." I remember then that for the last several Christmases I have been meaning to go to the ballet, and there was a free production maybe two Christmases ago.
This led me to remember having wanted to go see a Shakespeare play for a few years before finally being able to go and see one. I was so dizzied and confused I felt like I had been slipped something. It was terrible. True story.
Shortly after this, there came a comment on my Facebook, which one way or another, turned out to be the only takeaway from the whole experience. It was something to the effect of not saying frivolous and trivial things in the company of grave and learned men. I felt trivial and frivolous, that's similar, is it not? I will never forget that. It was as if the Shakespearean line I got wasn't Shakespeare at all.
Do I believe that I can relate this experience in the least to going and witnessing the beautiful dancers that will float across the stage in bright and lovely costumes while, if I am lucky, an orchestra plays? It isn't very similar. And that is why I hate Shakespeare. His greatness is such that I cannot even join in the fun.
I have nothing.
What does mediocrity look like?
Seriously, I came up with two blogs this week. One was on the limited number of ways to say thank you in the English language, while I believe there are about fifteen or twenty to say marijuana, and maybe a hundred that represent the human reproductive organs. The other was about Shakespeare, in a sort of weak way.
It was this morning. I was driving down the road toward my apartment after having dropped my son off at his job at a very, extremely popular coffee chain in Atlanta (unfortunately, looking for what might be great in Atlanta, GA resulted in a number of trip advisory pages and then this about food.) And as I am driving, that ballet comes into my head, and I am hearing "The dance of the sugar plum fairies." I remember then that for the last several Christmases I have been meaning to go to the ballet, and there was a free production maybe two Christmases ago.
This led me to remember having wanted to go see a Shakespeare play for a few years before finally being able to go and see one. I was so dizzied and confused I felt like I had been slipped something. It was terrible. True story.
Shortly after this, there came a comment on my Facebook, which one way or another, turned out to be the only takeaway from the whole experience. It was something to the effect of not saying frivolous and trivial things in the company of grave and learned men. I felt trivial and frivolous, that's similar, is it not? I will never forget that. It was as if the Shakespearean line I got wasn't Shakespeare at all.
Do I believe that I can relate this experience in the least to going and witnessing the beautiful dancers that will float across the stage in bright and lovely costumes while, if I am lucky, an orchestra plays? It isn't very similar. And that is why I hate Shakespeare. His greatness is such that I cannot even join in the fun.
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