One might think getting enough sleep would be a good thing, if only it didn’t play such havoc with routine. Having actually slept for a full eight hours, I feel relatively good, compared to most days. Being up so late, however, brings with it a small sense of panic, for leaving this Pearl to the last minute. SIGH…. Is it any wonder I drive myself crazy on a regular basis? I don’t guess it is….
It does mean, however, we are free to apply the most efficient form of introductory section, to wit; this kind, which has no other task but to get us down the page and on our way to watching the video for the day. Since today’s video is one I think everyone should enjoy, we’ll not use any tricks, or nonsense, or any of our usual methods of distracting y’all from the process….. which, ultimately, should be a good thing, if I can pull this off…. Here’s how it works…. Hang on tight, ffolkes, if this works, it’ll get a little rough….
Shall we Pearl?
~~ Smart Bee ~~
Yesterday’s video choice was such fun, we’ll go with another fine TV show from the same era…. This one wasn’t quite as sophisticated as The Addams Family, but, was just as popular, if only for the show’s primary star, Herman Munster, everyone’s favorite Frankenstein, in the style of The Stooges….
The Munsters S01E30 Country Club Munsters (Full Episode)
It is time, the Walrus said, to speak of many things…… or at least one…..
“Shakespeare was an intellectual ocean, whose waves touched all the shores of thought; within which were all the tides and waves of destiny and will; over which swept all the storms of fate, ambition and revenge; upon which fell the gloom and darkness of despair and death and all the sunlight of content and love, and within which was the inverted sky lit with the eternal stars — an intellectual ocean — toward which all rivers ran, and from which now the isles and continents of thought receive their dew and rain.” — Robert G. Ingersoll (American lawyer and orator)
Now, to look at this, one might think that this Ingersoll person was a smart fella, having obviously read a lot of Shakespeare. I am forced to point out, however, that being able to read does not necessarily mean one can think, or that one is entitled to an opinion. There are clues within this statement that reveal its weaknesses, the foremost of which is that it is a large load of bullshit……
I, too, have read a lot of Shakespeare, though not by entirely by choice. At first, I read him because it was assigned in school by some ignorant English teacher who had fallen under the normal delusion taught in most schools about Will, i.e., his stuff was good…. when in reality, most of what he wrote is just a pile of shit piled really high, hidden in masses of flowery, obfuscatory language…. Afterward, I read him to find further examples of his failings to show people in proof of my assertion, to wit: he is the most over-rated, and most egregiously pandered-to author of all time….
Oh, he was prolific enough; as well, he wrote a lot of stuff that, by any standard, is fairly good…. However, given the massive PILE of stuff he wrote, the good stuff merely proves the law of averages. For the most part, what he wrote is too wordy by half, obscure in meaning that clouds the story, or has no connection to the story at all, tending to a flowery saccharine flavor by the choice of his words.
Will achieved a large popularity in his own time, either due to good press, or the normal bad taste of the public; I don’t really care. In today’s world, his story lines would be considered trite, sticking as he did to common themes, treated by virtually every author. In addition, his use of slang went completely overboard, turning what may have been decent rap, in his day, into such tripe it sounds like random noise, similar to the common run of rap today…. I’m often amazed at how many bad musicians there are in the world…. but, that’s a subject for another rant….
In order to demonstrate for you the absolute nonsense that flowed from his pen, I’ve included some samples of his work below…. they pretty much speak for themselves….. badly…… so I’ve added my comments in parentheses…..
O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven;
It hath the primal eldest curse upon ‘t,
A brother’s murder.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Hamlet — Act iii, Sc. 3
(Ooooh, such tension and horror….. NOT…. merely mundane, as far as I can tell…..)
“The venom clamors of a jealous woman poison more deadly than a mad dog’s tooth.” — William Shakespeare
(I’ll bet Will was real popular with the women of his time….. NOT)
Where the bee sucks, there suck I;
In a cowslip’s bell I lie.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), The Tempest — Act v, Sc. 1
(Huh? What? Is this part of the play?…..Which part?…. Which play?)
O, that he were here to write me down an ass!
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Much Ado about Nothing — Act iv, Sc. 2
(Don’t worry, Will, I’m here…..)
A plague of sighing and grief! It blows a man up like a bladder.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), King Henry IV — Act ii, Sc. 4
(I suppose, if your society doesn’t yet have rubber, or balloons, a bladder is the best you have…..)
Most forcible Feeble.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), King Henry IV — Act iii, Sc. 2
(Oh, aye, what a handy turn of phrase…. NOT… What does this mean?….)
They fool me to the top of my bent.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Hamlet — Act iii, Sc. 2
(Uh, to where? I think more likely, he’s the one trying to fool…. the audience….)
O, never say hereafter
But I am truest speaker. You call’d me brother
When I was but your sister.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Cymbeline — Act v, Sc. 5
(Honestly, this sounds like something I’d write when really, really drunk, thinking it was hilarious…..)
Okay, that’s probably enough for one day…. I’ve got well over four pages full of stuff of his like these, so there is a lot to choose from…. Just doing what I can to spread the truth, as I see it…… and this truth needs telling, to get society away from this ridiculous celebrity worship when it comes to him, and to artists like him, who rely on public opinion more than Art to determine the value of their material…. Call me Ishmael, if you must…. just don’t forget to call me…..
Note from 2015: Just to show you I still feel the same as I did when I penned this little ditty, here is one I found when looking for a pearl to open this section…. You tell ME what it means, and I’ll give you a prize….
That palter with us in a double sense:
That keep the word of promise to our ear
And break it to our hope.
~~ William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Macbeth, Act v, Sc. 8 ~~
(Anyone who can explain this to me satisfactorily will win the following grand prize…. I’ll send you all of these quotes from Willie S., personally recorded, verbally, in a Scottish accent, (Macbeth, get it?)…. on a CD, so you can play it all day and night, should you so choose to thus display your insanity…. Hey, I never said you’d LIKE the prize, did I?…. Nope….)
Over the last few days, I’ve felt a poem building up in my mind. Yesterday, after finally gaining some space from the pain that’s been dogging me for three days now (cold weather reaction by my arthritis, I think… ), I opened up a vein, and it leaked out onto the screen. Here ’tis, such as it is…. I’m not sure yet how I feel about it; the wound is too fresh…. I hope you like it, though…. Don’t ask me what any of it means, either; I’m not sure I could tell you…
Puzzled anew by anomalous blocks of pain
caught, bemused, chained to routine, insane.
Stilled within breathless beauty
Engaging epiphany, insistent, called to duty.
Knees bent in lieu of a faithful rendition
suffuses, confuses, locked into stale perdition.
Clearing corrosion with hands encased in stone
Singular frozen follicles, masked by bone.
Partial focus brings unfiltered flavors to light
coloring each particle in simple delight.
Forlorn, novel conceptual artists singing in tune
nine notes in harmony, soft as the moon.
Honed blades of carbon steel flash in rhyme,
filling sensual receptors well past closing time.
Borrowed from neighbors in a week-old game
still bloody, without a proper name.
No flooded memories can justify such cost
no simple stationery, bilious, afraid, lost.
Ten times ten will never be enough
To fill so empty a stolen trough.
Bartering simplicity takes well into the night
solidly temporary pillars turned bright.
Unknown to all the pretty children who came
none were called, none had any remaining flame.
~~ gigoid ~~
All I can say about this old-school pearl is, it’s done…. Not bad, either, for such a chunky collection; it actually does have a good, valid comment to make about the number 42…. with all that implies…. Go ahead, trust me. If you don’t, well, simply don’t inhale…. You probably won’t get it, but, you’ll live through it okay. Just don’t cancel that long-term insurance; you’ll most likely end up needing it some day….
Is a stair
Where I sit.
There isn’t any
I’m not at the bottom,
I’m not at the top;
So this is the stair
~~ A.A. Milne ~~
“The highest compact we can make with our fellow is- “Let there be truth between us forevermore.”” — Emerson
“Bronze is the mirror of the form; wine, of the heart.” — Aeschylus (525-456 BC) — Frag. 384
“It is ridiculous to suppose that the great head of things, whatever it be, pays any regard to human affairs.” — Pliny the Elder (23-79 AD) — Natural History, Book ii, Sect. 20
“You have succeeded in life when all you really want is only what you really need.” — Vernon Howard
“Any idiot can face a crisis. It’s this day-to-day living that wears you out.” — Anton Checkov
“No sensible decision can be made any longer without taking into account not only the world as it is, but the world as it will be…. — Isaac Asimov
“Everything in excess! To enjoy the flavor of life, take big bites. Moderation is for monks.” — Lazarus Long, from Robert A. Heinlein’s “Time Enough For Love”
The strongest way to block is never to provoke a blow.
And the cleanest cut is the one withheld.
~~ “Kensho”, by Dennis Schmidt ~~
All things considered, not too shabby….. It’s done, anyway, and I can go post it, post haste. Rather than torture y’all any further today, I’ll simply wave my hand (see?), type these last words, and be off into the day…. See y’all tomorrow, ffolkes….
and May the Metaphorse be with you;
Blessed Be, dearest Carole, Mark,Theresa, & Richy
and everyone else, too…
When I works, I works hard.
When I sits, I sits loose.
When I thinks, I falls asleep.
Which is Why….
Sometimes I sits and thinks,
I just sits.
gigoid, the dubious
PLEASE STOP READING THIS MESSAGE NOW.
“SCRAM!!!!!!!!!!”- Oscar the Grouch
À bientôt, mon cherí….