Today’s Totally Random Line(s)

           

Here once again we sit, once again crown’d,

And looked upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes.

 

-King John

King John                       Act IV, Scene ii, Line 1

                     

Well, I often say to myself, here once again I sit. In fact, I think I might have been saying that to myself a few minutes ago. And if I wasn’t, well, I’ll say it now, out loud.
Here once again we sit. Not sure about the crown’d part. And I don’t see any other eyes, let alone cheerful ones. But nonetheless….
Here once again we sit.

It reminds me of a poster. I don’t remember much about the picture on the poster, just the words:
Sometimes I sits and thinks, and sometimes I just sits.
I think that describes me fairly well.
So it’s either that, or here once again we sit.

Take your pick.

Speaking of sitting: I was sitting in a waiting room the other day, and I noticed the footwear on this fellow, and I took a clandestine photo of his feet. 

I don't know who he is, but whoever he is, here he sat, looked upon by me with envious eyes. 

Thems is some comfy looking sandals!

 

Today’s Totally Random Line(s)

           

The deep-revolving witty Buckingham

No more shall be the neighbor to my counsels:

Hath he so long held out with me untired,

And stops he now for breath? –well, be it so.

  

-Richard

Richard the Third                 Act IV, Scene ii, Line 42

                       

Richard has decided that he will no longer trust Buckingham. I believe that Buckingham was an ardent supporter of Richard and helped him to gain the throne. But now, Richard has asked Buckingham to take care of getting rid of (killing) the princes in the tower and Buckingham is hesitant.

That’s an interesting statement of what Buckingham is to Richard: The deep-revolving, witty Buckingham. I’m not quite sure what to make of that. I wonder if it will start to crystallize for me if I dwell on it, as many of Will’s words do. Deep-revolving, witty. 

And no more shall be the neighbor to my counsels. That one’s easier to understand and absolutely wonderful. A normal human would say, I’m not going to trust him any longer. Will says he no more shall be neighbor to my counsels.

I must be crazy because I just don’t get tired of this stuff. I only wish that I could remember all the words because I’d love to be able to use this language more in my daily interactions. I’m sure if the people around me that I live with could hear me voice that thought, they would in unison cry ‘No Pete! You’re odd enough already. You don’t need more of this language!’

Well, maybe they're right. 

On the other hand, if that's the way they feel, perhaps they no more shall be the neighbor to my counsels!

 

Today’s Totally Random Line(s)

           

The business she hath broached in the state

Cannot endure my absence.

 

 -Antony

 Antony and Cleopatra                   Act I, Scene ii, Line 178

                     

Antony is talking to Enobarbus. They’ve just received news that Antony’s wife, Fulvia, has died, so Antony needs to go to Rome. Fulvia is the she is in today’s line. Enobarbus tells Antony that he need not grieve because there are other women that can take her place. It seems like an odd thing to say. Check it out

If there were no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, and the case to be lamented: this grief is crown’d with consolation; your old smock brings forth a new petticoat:- and, indeed, the tears live in an onion that should water this sorrow.

The tears live in an onion! What the heck do you think of that line? And this whole bit about no need to cry over Fulvia? It seems a bit hard-hearted. But then again, Enobarbus is a crusty old soldier. Eh?

It’s also a little bit interesting that in this scene Antony’s lines are written in verse and Enobarbus’s in prose; I guess to accentuate the old soldier's lack of etiquette.

A lot of times people (myself included) wonder about the apparent inconsistency of Will’s use of verse. Much of his writing is iambic pentameter, but there’s plenty of prose sprinkled in there too. Well, in this scene we have both, and apparently for pretty good reason.

Anyway, that would be an interesting thing to say to someone who’s crying over something that you don’t feel is worth crying over. The tears live in an onion that should water this sorrow. If they were really upset about something and you said this, well, I’m not sure that would go over very well.

Perfect example!

Here's the birthday girl, aka Cakey McCakeface. Now, if the frosting on that cake turned out to be anything other than buttercream frosting, Cakey would be extremely upset, possibly to the point of tears. And if it came to tears, wouldn't I be justified in saying the tears live in an onion that should water this sorrow. I'd be taking my life in my hands, but just the same, I'd probably be justified. 

 

Today’s Totally Random Line(s)

           

So are you to my thoughts as food to life,

Or as sweet-season's showers are to the ground;

And for the peace of you I hold such strife

As 'twixt a miser and his wealth is found;

 

Sonnet 78                              

 

Since each of the three quatrains of the sonnets seem to hold one thought, I’ve given you the full first quatrain of Sonnet 75.

Sam is sitting tightly next to me. I’m not sure if he’s missing Walker or Nina and Jeff. Or all of the above. Interestingly enough, I think that perhaps Sam is thinking the thoughts of today’s sonnet.

 

 

Today’s Totally Random Line(s)

           

O thou foul thief, where hast thou stowed my daughter?

 

-Brabantio

Othello                           Act I, Scene ii, Line 62

 

Okay, I’m giving you a break this morning. The actual line I picked was a few lines down from this, but it was in the middle of a really long sentence. So I gave you the first line of Brabantio’s rant. He’s going off on Othello and accusing him of using foul means to steal his daughter, Desdemona. It’s a pretty good rant, and it brings up more than one discussion point. Why don’t we take a look at it, or at least a part of it.

 

O thou foul thief, where hast thou stowed my daughter?

Damn’d as thou art, thou hast enchanted here;

For I’ll refer me to all things of sense,

If she in chains of magic were not bound,

Whether a maid so tender, fair, and happy,

So opposite to marriage that she shunn’d

The wealthy curled darlings of our nation,

Would ever have, t’incur a genral mock,

Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom

Of such a thing as thou,--to fear, not to delight.

 

That’s only about half of it. It goes on, but at least that’s the end of a sentence.

Obviously Brabantio feels that Othello used magic or something to get Desdemona to fall in love with him. Why else would she pass up  rich (understood to be white), well heeled gentlemen for a black thing like you? Oh yes, he said that.  And here’s where we run into a discussion point and perhaps a sticking point, and it rests on one word. Sooty. Soot is black. Sooty is black in color. Yes, Othello is a black man. So, yes, Brabantio went there and said that. Why would my daughter possibly fall in love with a black thing like you?

Is that a nice thing to say? Of course not. Is it a racist thing to say? Probably. Is it in reality, something that someone in Brabantio’s situation, and time and place might say? Probably. Does it work well in the context of this dramatic work? I think so.

So we've concluded that it's a racist comment and therefore objectionable (and rightly so) to many. Therefore, do we need to eliminate, or sanitize this dramatic work, or can we find a way tolerate and understand this use of the word sooty. To be clear, there are a few other references in the play to Othello's skin color, and Will does manage to utilize racial and ethnic branding in other of his works. 

Anyway, I hope that we can find a way to tolerate and understand Will's, and other artists, use of language that portrays objectionable behaviour. It would, I think, be wrong and self-defeating, to try to pretend that such behaviour does not exist. Such a pretense is a dream of a very nice world which will never co-exist with humankind. 

Oooh, a little bit heady this morning. Sorry about that.

This is a sooty albatross. 

Language is funny sometimes, isn't it?

 

Today’s Totally Random Line(s)

           

Ask him his purposes, why he appears

Upon this call o’the trumpet.       

 

-Duke of Albany

King Lear                              Act V, Scene iii, Line 119

 

What are any of our purposes? Eh? And what trumpet call has any of us appeared upon the call of? Anybody got an answer to that one? I’d love to hear it.

Sometimes I just take the line and apply it to my world, and ignore the story that it comes from. Sometimes that seems appropriate, like today. This morning I'm feeling particularly introspective, and I've been asking myself these kinds of questions. And that's okay.

This guy looks more ectospective (that's not a word, is it?) than introspective, but that's okay too, because today is his birthday. 

Happy Birthday Jeff! 

 

Today’s Totally Random Line(s)

           

No, madam; for so long

As he could make me with this eye or ear

Distinguish him from others, he did keep
The deck, with glove, or hat, or handkerchief,

Still waving, as the fits and stirs of’s mind

Could best express how slow his soul sail’d on,

How swift the ship.    


                        

 -Pisanio

Cymbeline                             Act I, Scene iii, Line 14

 

Yup, another really long sentence; but a good one. 

First, context: Imogen, the king’s daughter, has married Posthumus, a worthy fellow, but not a royal; ergo, Posthumus gets banished.
Now Pisano is describing Posthumus’s departure to Imogen.
How slow his soul sailed on, how swift the ship.
I just can’t help it; I find this writing absolute genius. I know, you’re reading this and saying to yourself, what the heck are you talking about, Pete? Let me make a feeble attempt to help you understand what I’m talking about.

Pisanio’s got to explain to Imogen that Posthumus didn’t just wave his handkerchief as the ship sailed off; he’s got to explain how loathe that Posthumus was to leave her. So…
For as long as he thought Pisanio could see him for so long as he could make me with this eye or ear distinguish him from others he kept waving  with glove, or hat, or handkerchief (he wasn’t just standing there waving) to make it clear that he didn’t want to go - to best express how slow his soul sail’d on, so much slower than the ship he was standing on was moving.

I don’t know, did that help? Probably not. Good thing I’m not a lit teacher, eh? Oh well. Maybe read it over once or twice; Will’s words, not mine. Maybe a little of the genius of the words will start to sink in. Maybe not.

Can you see Posthumus waving from the back of this ship? 

If you can, then you've got a pretty good imagination.