I went to renew my poetic license today, but they said first I need to do an I exam

 

We started with sonnets. Light and clean. Unless you want to take a second look and find they are dark and deep with strange innuendoes I did not understand as a child, beautiful poetic exemplar of the English language at its best.

 

 

You cant sell news stories that have data and cautious predictions. Where is the panic? Where is the impending doom? C'mon people , give me something to work with here…

    Opinions / Science / Theory of Relative Ignorance  
 

..and as I was a yuppy marketing and advertising executive for the better part
of a decade, I am not really impressed with stories of selling your soul to the devil...

    Art & Culture / Music / Blues / Robert Johnson  

William Shakespeare – the one, the only

To be or not to be. That is the question.
 

Can you compete with that? If I had a telegram to send. That would be it. Not a single word out of place and all so clear. So accurate . so concise. The rest of hamlet is fluff. Ok. Maybe not complete fluff, but you know what I mean.

 
All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.
 

No wonder it became such a theatrical cliché. A joke. Yes. But a joke that most writers would die for, because in order to become a cliché you need to be the real thing first and then, and only then do the final step to cliché. Cliché means you made it.

 
If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?
 

And nobody had doubt that dear old will made it and made it big. We don’t know if he existed. We are not sure if all his writings were really his. We  don’t know a lot of things. But we do know great writing when we see it.

 
As he was valiant, I honour him.
But as he was ambitious, I slew him.
 

I was lucky enough to have a marvelous English tutor from my early years, as the school level was clearly not enough for anything more than standard language skills, which meant I read Shakespeare sonnets by forth grade. Didn’t understand most of the meanings behind them, I have to admit, but was always charmed by the language, the flow, the intentional puns and tongue games. He was indeed a master wordsmith and you can FEEL it in the writing.

 

No, I will be the pattern of all patience;
I will say nothing.

 

I grew to love Shakespeare as a small boy, thanks to one lovely crazy old British tutor I had, as my parents realized the English level in my school might be satisfactory for the mundane everyday life, but will never take me any further than that. She was that famous breed of British ladies, with a slightly blue hair, the tea cozy and all the rest, the kind of old British lady that opens the door with a big smile at eight o'clock in the morning after she already played an hour of tennis and worked in her small but very well kept rose garden.

We started with sonnets. Light and clean. Unless you want to take a second look and find they are dark and deep with strange innuendoes I did not understand as a child, beautiful poetic exemplar of the English language at its best.

 
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May
and summer's lease hath all too short a date:
 

It was only later on that I realized that Shakespeare's greatness was not in the sonnets, not in the words, no matter how skillfully they were weaved in verse and rhyme. It was not in these short revelation of natural talent that old bill was shining, but the plays, the intricate plots, the brilliant accurate dramatic writing, characters entwined by fate and other forces of uncanny mischievous nature. But that would have to be a whole new article I guess.

Today Shakespeare seems out dated, old fashioned, redundant. It is the old world and we don’t need the old world. We have facebook. But there will always be a groups of hardcore Shakespeare lovers who will keep the flame.

I am sure of it. This kind of treasure has the magnetic force which attracts the real dreamers, the ones who appreciate a good yarn told in a classical yet whimsical approach then another reality show.

And knowing this? Keeps my faith in the human race.
we need that kind of love, no matter how tragically it usually ends.
we need it to free our soul, like only good old bards could do.

 
Love to faults is always blind,
always is to joy inclined.
Lawless, winged, and unconfined,
and breaks all chains from every mind.