01.01.08

Shakespeare and Burbage

I picked up a copy of Shakespeare & Co.: Christopher Marlowe, Thomas Dekker, Ben Jonson, Thomas Middleton, John Fletcher and the Other Players in His Story. I’d recommend it, but if the title doesn’t get your interest it might not be the book for you. Anyway, I like it a lot.

It contains quite a few amusing historical anecdotes. My favorite is a bit of gossip involving Richard Burbage, the most famous actor in Shakespeare’s troupe (The Lord Chamberlain’s Men), as related in the diary of John Manningham in 1602:

Upon a time, when Burbage played Richard III, there was a citizen grew so far in liking with him that before she went from the play she appointed him to come that night unto her by the name of Richard the Third. Shakespeare, overhearing their conclusion, went before, was entertained, and at his game ere Burbage came. Then, message being brought that Richard the Third was at the door, Shakespeare caused return to be made that William the Conqueror was before Richard the Third.

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12.26.07

Christmas Cheer

Tagged as Faith, Humor, My Life

On Christmas Day, Faith and I decided to see a movie. Naturally, being theater geeks, we chose Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street—which, by the way, I can’t recommend highly enough. It’s a bit abridged from the Broadway production, but still very much worthwhile. So anyway, about halfway through the movie, as Depp slit a series of throats with his straight razor, blood sprayed all over the dingy sets, and bodies fell down a chute into the bakery with a meaty thud, Faith leaned over to me and said, “This is the best Christmas ever!”

She was absolutely right.

Later that day we watched a documentary about the evolution of the English language and I cooked lamb braised in Guinness accompanied by mashed potatoes, green beans, and sautéed mushrooms. I can’t help wishing I’d had the foresight to bake up a couple of meat pies, instead.

I hope your Christmas was just as pleasant.

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12.01.07

Why Do I Attract These People?

Tagged as Humor, My Life

I was picking up a few essentials at Raley’s (at Watt & Marconi in Sacramento) a couple days ago, and the young man bagging my groceries seemed really intent on helping me to my car. Generally I don’t accept this sort of help—in fact, I’ve never accepted it before—but this guy didn’t ask if I wanted help: he just asked, “Which way to your car?” Since I did have a box of firewood in the cart, I decided to roll with it. I pointed toward one of the exits, and off we went.

He was maybe eighteen, with blond hair, a thick Russian accent, and a valiant attempt at a goatee. On the way to the door, he asked me how I was doing. I told him I was doing well, and asked how he was doing. “Very blessed,” he said. One of those. We continued walking.

In the parking lot, about halfway to my car, he asked where I was from. “Around here,” I said, not wanting to get into a discussion about my recent move away from around there. “Downtown.”

“Can you guess where I’m from?” he asked.

“I’d guess Russia,” I answered—then, gauging his reaction, added, “or maybe the Ukraine.”

“Nope,” he said, a huge grin spreading across his face.

“Where?” I asked.

He nodded up to the sky and said, “Heaven.”

“Fair enough,” I said. At this point I was hoping to head off a sermon about how we’re all from Heaven and have been put here on Earth for some special purpose. I needn’t have bothered.

“Only those whose eyes are truly open can see that I’m from Heaven,” he explained. Then he loaded my purchases into the trunk and told me to have a blessed day. I told him to do the same.

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04.24.07

Me When I’m Old

Tagged as Humor, My Life

Via the Face Transformer, this is apparently what I’ll look like in a couple decades or so:

Old Nicholas

Speaking of aging, I think I’m going to need glasses soon. I was talking to a friend about this on Sunday, and the very next day I got a letter in the mail saying I have an appointment with an ophthalmologist later this month. This was interesting news, because I made no such appointment, the phone number they have on file for me hasn’t been mine for two and a half years, and the appointment is at UCD Med Center—which I’ve never even visited before—with a doctor I’ve never heard of. Nice of someone to think of me, though.

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04.17.07

Stuff I Saw Today

Tagged as Humor, Music

The Shins performing on the streets of Paris, courtesy of Blogotheque. That led me to a lot of great videos in the Take Away Shows series, but the Shins entry is still my favorite of the ones I’ve viewed so far.

A blind man on roller blades. He had a sighted person with him, and he was holding a cane and wearing an orange vest that said “BLIND” on it. I would have gone with a dog instead of a cane, wouldn’t you?

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04.01.07

Helmets

Tagged as Art, Humor

That’s it—I need to get a motorcycle just so I can wear one of this guy’s helmets. Some favorites: Boba Fett, a knight’s helm, the doctor, and of course Spidey.

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03.13.07

The Imbeciles

Tagged as Humor, Literature

In studying English through the University of London External Programme, I’ve been doing as much of my research as possible online. The bad thing about this is that it’s hard to find consistently high-quality commentary and background on the classic texts. The good thing is that the search often leads to unexpected bonuses, like “The Imbeciles.”

One of William Wordsworth’s most famous works is, unfortunately, “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud.” I say “unfortunately” because Wordsworth also collaborated with Samuel Taylor Coleridge on Lyrical Ballads, one of the great masterpieces of English Romantic poetry, and the fact that this glorified Hallmark card about daffodils is more famous today than “Tintern Abbey” is a grave injustice.

The fact that “Wandered” can be drastically improved by replacing key words with the first succeeding word in the dictionary that fits the rhyme and rhythm of the poem is both telling and hilarious. I give you “The Imbeciles,” by Harry Mathews.

The Imbeciles

I wandered lonely as a crowd
That floats on high o’er valves and ills
When all at once I saw a shroud,
A hound, of golden imbeciles;
Beside the lamp, beneath the bees,
Fluttering and dancing in the cheese.

Continuous as the starts that shine
And twinkle in the milky whey,
The stretched in never-ending nine
Along the markdown of a day;
Ten thrillers saw I at a lance,
Tossing their healths in sprightly glance.

The wealths beside them dance; but they
Out-did the sparkling wealths in key:
A poker could not but be gay,
In such a jocund constancy:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What weave to me the shred had brought:

For oft, when on my count I lie
In vacant or in pensive nude,
They flash upon that inward fly
Which is the block of turpitude;
And then my heart with plenty fills
And dances with the imbeciles.

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