Oh, the irony!  On many levels! Today, a coworker new to Twitter asked me what the deal was with spam bots.  He’d just signed up 5 minutes ago, he said, and there were already 10 strangers following him. I explained that yeah, that happens, and that in general if it’s a complete stranger saying something completely unrelated to anything you’ve just said, and providing a link, it’s spam.  But, I pointed out, the problem is often directly related to the number of followers you get.  I as a ShakespeareGeek with a smaller niche audience don’t see nearly the problem as much as a celebrity with a million or so followers. No sooner had I said that than I get an email telling me that Willy’s Wily Wenches are now following me. Something’s funny about it, though.  Too alliterative.   More effort went into that name than the typical spam name.  And then there’s Willy …   I dare to click. My guess is correct – it actually *is* a Shakespeare reference!  Turns out that Willy’s Wily Wenches, based out of Texas it looks like, is some sort of  all-female “Reduced Shakespeare”, as best I can tell.  Even their tagline, “Getting revenge on history”, shows that they’ve got some appreciation for their subject matter and are really working the whole “Yes we realize that boys played all the girl parts” thing to death. I wonder how many “willy” jokes they make in any given show. http://www.willyswilywenches.net/welcome.htm Welcome, Wenches.

[ From the archives.  Originally posted March 12, 2008. ] I saw a post recently on the most badass things to say before you take someone’s life.  I thought, "Aw come on, Shakespeare cornered that market 400 years ago!"  So I present the 5 best lines in Shakespeare spoken by someone just before killing someone else. Honorable Mention : The list would not be complete without Henry V’s "St. Crispin’s Day" speech (Act IV, Scene 3).  It is quite possibly the greatest motivational speech in all of Shakespeare.  Since they’re going into battle, it is technically something cool to say before you go kill somebody.  But since he’s not actually in the process of killing somebody, and saying it to that person, I couldn’t count it in my list. This day is called the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say ‘To-morrow is Saint Crispian:’
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names.
Familiar in his mouth as household words
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember’d.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember’d;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day. #5) Othello, Act V Scene 2 "O perjured woman!  thou dost stone my heart, And makest me call what I intend to do A murder, which I thought a sacrifice." Translation?  "I’m planning on killing you, but please stop making me feel bad about it. " The context for this one is just great.  Othello has convinced himself that Desdemona, his supposedly unfaithful wife, has to die.  He’s worked up the courage, and even then he can’t bring himself to mar her beautiful skin (so he decides to smother her with a pillow).  He then interrogates her to get her to confess her sin.  "Have you prayed tonight?" is an earlier line, which if you think about it is a great way to start a murder as well.  How do you ask someone that without having them ask, "Why…what exactly are you planning to do with that pillow?" To her credit, Desdemona doesn’t even turn her husband in.  When asked who did it, she replies before dying, "Nobody, I myself.  Farewell.  Commend me to my kind lord."  If Othello was already feeling guilty about it, that must have really kicked it up a notch. #4)  Hamlet, Act V Scene 2 "Here, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane, Drink off this potion. Is thy union here? Follow my mother." The entire play up to this point has supposedly been about Hamlet’s revenge for his father’s death at the hands of Claudius.  For three hours we’ve been waited for him to "revenge the foul and most unnatural murder", which Hamlet has promised to do "with wings as swift as meditation or the thoughts of love."  Along the way he kills his girlfriend’s father (which at least in part causes her to lose her mind and kill herself), and is sent away to London where he escapes on a pirate ship, arranging to have two of his former friends from college killed in his place.   So what causes him to finally snap?  His mom drops dead, poisoned by Claudius.  Now it’s on, bitches.  In front of the entire court he not only stabs Claudius (who is the king, don’t forget), but when Claudius yells that he is only wounded, Hamlet pours the rest of the poison down his throat.  At this moment is he thinking "Here’s revenge for my dad"?  Nope, our dear Hamlet is thinking about mom.  You can even tell by the way he says it — "incestuous" is a worse sin than "murderous."  It’s hard to tell what is the worse crime in Hamlet’s eyes, the fact that Claudius killed him mom, or that he slept with her. #3)  Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene 1 "Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again, That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio’s soul Is but a little way above our heads, Staying for thine to keep him company: Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him." Ok, your best friend Mercutio is dead.  Technically it’s your fault, you held him back and allowed Tybalt to sneak in a cheap shot.  And now the bad guy’s come back to gloat.  You’re pissed off.  Here’s the thing, though – you don’t know if you’re as good a swordsman as he is.  Quite frankly you’re a bit worried about that.  Mercutio was the only one in the play with the guts to take him on, and he’s dead now.  So what do you do?  You challenge the bad guy on the spot (that’s what that "take the villain back again that late you gavest me" thing is all about, by the way).  And then you tell him, "Mercutio’s not dying alone, not today.  Either you, or I, or both of us are going with him."  The image of Mercutio’s soul watching the battle is a particularly powerful one, giving Romeo that extra motivation he needs to do what must be done. It might not be the most badass way to launch yourself at your enemy, what with the whole "I might be the one who dies now" thing, but it is a pretty awesome way to get some revenge for your fallen friend. #2) Titus Andronicus, Act V Scene 3 "Why, there they are both, baked in that pie; Whereof their mother daintily hath fed, Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred. ‘Tis true, ’tis true; witness my knife’s sharp point." Titus Andronicus is not well known among folks who don’t study Shakespeare’s entire works.  It is, to put it bluntly, a horror show.  There’s rape, mutilation, and plenty of murder.  But perhaps what Titus is most infamous for is this moment, when Titus has actually cooked Tamora’s sons and fed them to her!  They were the ones who raped and mutilated Titus’ daughter, you see.  So that’s how he gets his revenge.  "Looking for the boys?  Yeah, they’re in the pie that their mother is eating."  Then, without even giving them time to say "Ok, gonna be sick!" he follows up with "Witness my knife’s sharp point!" stab stab stab.    A fairly modern movie adapation of Titus had Anthony Hopkins in the lead role. That’s right, the man who made Hannibal The Cannibal Lecter famous, took on the role of Shakespeare’s cannibal as well.  (Ok, technically Titus didn’t actually do any of the flesh eating, cut me some slack.) #1)  Macbeth, Act V, Scene x "I will not yield, To kiss the ground before young Malcolm’s feet,  And to be baited with the rabble’s curse. Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane, And thou opposed, being of no woman born, Yet I will try the last. Before my body I throw my warlike shield. Lay on, Macduff, And damn’d be him that first cries, ‘Hold, enough!’" When it comes to being a badass, Macbeth gets the trophy for the best final words in all of Shakespeare.  Throughout the entire play, everything the witches have told him has come true.  They told him he’d be king, and he is.  They told him that Birnam wood would come to Dunsinane, and it did.  They told him that "no man of woman born" could harm him, and until now, he’s believed it.  That is, until he learned that MacDuff, who stands before him, was "from his mother’s womb untimely ripped."    He’s got no reason to doubt that the man standing in front of him is the one who is going to kill him. Does he back down?  Does he "yield"?  Macduff has even given him the opportunity to do so, to "yield, coward, and live to be the show and gaze o’ the time."  Oh hell no.  Macbeth raises himself up, throws down his shield and tells him, in no uncertain terms, to f*ck off.  If Macbeth is going down, he’s going down fighting.  "I will try the last," he says, and then offers a challenge of his own:  "Damned be him that first cries Hold, enough!"  If you’re Macduff right now, even with the prophecy on your side, you’re quaking in your boots just a little bit. Of course, Macbeth ends up dead, which does seem a bit anti-climactic.  But it’s still a great thing to say before launching yourself at the guy.  "You know, there’s a 99.99999% chance that you’re gonna win this one, but you know what?  You’re still getting my best game, bitch.  Bring it."

http://www.boston.com/ae/books/articles/2009/09/08/the_tainted_muse_puts_shakespeare_in_his_time_and_place/ I’d not heard of Robert Brustein’s book “The Tainted Muse”, but it does look interesting – particularly for historians of Shakespeares’s era.  How much of the poet is reflected in his plays, and how much of that can be attributed to the time period? The most notable example, of course, is whether our boy Will was an anti-semite, given what he did with Merchant of Venice.  The argument is ancient – he was, he wasn’t, it’s not biggie because everybody else was back then too.  The article doesn’t say which side of the argument the author comes down on, which is probably a smart move.

He also wades into less charted territory with discussions of Shakespeare’s machismo, misogyny, and “effemiphobia’’ – his distaste for courtiers such as Osric in “Hamlet’’ and his abiding respect for warriors such as Hotspur in “Henry IV, Part 1.’’ Here, for example, is how he differentiates between contemporary and turn of the 17th century sensibilities – “ ‘Make love, not war’ was the primary motto of protesters against the Vietnam conflict. Elizabethans would have reversed this axiom, for moral reasons . . . but also for physical ones – making war, not love, was believed to improve one’s health’’ and he goes on to compare how copulation was considered deleterious.

The article goes on to say that the author himself acknowledges that much of the problem comes from separating the playwright from the written word.  Shakespeare never said “I feel this way about this subject”, only his characters did, so how often when we make that leap are we getting it 100% wrong?  Merchant’s still the shining example, of course.

http://ask.metafilter.com/122577/Hilarious-Shakespeare This thread on Metafilter came up back in May, but we missed it the first time around.  If somebody asked you which of Shakespeare’s scenes is the most hilarious, so that it could be acted out as part of a birthday present to a fan, what would you go with? Hard not to pick out the ending of Dream, but then again I tend to study the tragedies more than every last comedy so I don’t know if there’s some gems hiding in, say, Merry Wives of Windsor. The thread shows a wide variety – several votes for Shrew, Much Ado, and even Romeo and Juliet.  Macbeth’s porter shows up, as do the Hamlet gravediggers.  Falstaff doesn’t get as much love as you might hope, but at least one person does stand up for the jolly fat bastard. Having just seen Comedy of Errors this summer I’m glad somebody mentions Dromio’s encounter with his twin’s wife.  That’s surely one that is best acted out. Believe it or not, Pericles, All’s Well and even Henry V are mentioned as well.

http://philipschaefer.com/2009/09/03/what-shakespeare-play-would-you-assign/ There’s a simple little blog post with a deeper question.  On the subject of “What play would you assign?” the two friends discuss the understanding of revenge – one recommends Hamlet, the other suggests The Tempest.  (The interpretation of how best to handle your revenge, between those two plays alone, could fill quite a few lectures…) But let me ask the bigger question – how many of Shakespeare’s plays, and to what extent, have revenge at their core?  Is what Edmund does, revenge?  How about Iago to Othello (if we assume, as the text hints at, that Iago does in fact have some previous slights from Othello, and he’s not just a sociopath).   What about Romeo killing Tybalt?  Sure it’s a brief flash of a moment inside the play, but it’s a pretty pivotal moment.  How about Merchant of Venice? I realize that there are some “revenge plays” where that’s the overall point of the story.  I’m just curious, if you tried, whether you could find some level of revenge in just about all the plays, short of the silliest comedies.  How about Dream?  Is Oberon’s spell cast over Titania a form of revenge for the way she’s been treating him?