Mojo, The Bard, & Me

 Today’s Totally Random Lines

                                            I am much sorry , sir,

You put me to forget a lady’s manners,

By being so verbal: and learn now, for all,

That I, which know my heart, do here pronounce,

By the very truth of it, I care not for you.

 

Imogen

Cymbeline              Act II, Scene iii, Line 108

 

This started out by Imogen answering Cloten’s question of whether she had called him a fool. She answers yes, and then begins apologizing for it, then lets him know what she really thinks of him, finally taking it further, saying,

And I am so near the lack of charity,-
To accuse myself,- I hate you; which I had rather
You felt than make’t my boast.

So she’s trying to qualify it the whole way, rather than just say it outright, but all she really wants to say is that she thinks he’s a fool and she hates him. No unnecessary words! Of course, that’s Strunk and White’s advice and this is Shakespeare. And never the twain shall meet. Really though, I think she could have been a little more straight forward. And Colten really is a creep, so he deserves it.
Oh well.

Funny, isn’t it, how sometimes we try so hard to hedge what we’re really feeling. And yet there are some people who don’t do that. Some people who have no filter. And that’s really not so good either.

I’m telling you, so many of these random lines can take you down nearly endless, and usually interesting, discussion paths.
Again, oh well.

Day four of retirement. Today actually is Saturday. No, really, it’s Saturday. Tomorrow is Sunday. Which brings up the question: if every day of retirement is Saturday, then there’s no Sunday? I’ll ask Buck.

Either way, I think I can get used to this.

This mornings writing spot and view.

Yes, I can get used to this, and no, I don't know where Mojo is.