She talks to wolves...

Yesterday, via tithenai, I discovered that it was Talk Like Shakespeare Day in addition to being International Pixel-Stained Technopeasant Day. Rapscallion that I am, I didn't even visit the website before engaging in the following conversation with a friend (who, for obvious reasons, I shall here refer to as 'cos'):

Our Heroine: You know, Talk Like Shakespeare day is just not as much general fun as Talk Like A Pirate Day.
Our Heroine: I mean, you really need a drunk English department to enjoy the former properly.
My Cos: I think I'd need to do a lot more prep work for that.
My Cos: Pirate Day, you can get through with an "arr" or "matey" here and there.
Our Heroine: Oh, totally. I'd only want to talk in Shakespeare's actual lines, so I'd have to download them all into my brain or just flail around, butchering his plays terribly.
My Cos: Shakespeare...I dunno. I use "praytell" and "prithee" in regular conversation, so I'm not sure anyone would notice. Maybe I should invest in a codpiece for next year, hope the costume helps.
Our Heroine: The Codpiece of 17th Century English.
My Cos: Best D&D Item Ever?
My Cos: Exceeding the "Gloves of Hymen" that came up in a long a bizarre (and drunk!) conversation at the cake party last year.
My Cos: I really should hit the xkcd boards again.
Our Heroine: 0_0

(I should note, with a bit of cheek-coloring embarrassment, that I had this conversation with more than one person yesterday because it amused me so. I might be conflating them a bit in this transcript. Apologies and love to my dear cos-es-es. Es.)

Anyway, after reading the actual guidelines of Talk Like Shakespeare Day, I am much more amused and almost willing to give their fashion of "talking like Shakespeare" a go next year:

How to talk like Shakespeare...

1. Instead of you, say thou. Instead of y’all, say thee.
2. Rhymed couplets are all the rage.
3. Men are Sirrah, ladies are Mistress, and your friends are all called Cousin.
4. Instead of cursing, try calling your tormenters jackanapes or canker-blossoms or poisonous bunch-back’d toads.
5. Don’t waste time saying "it," just use the letter "t" (’tis, t’will, I’ll do’t).
6. Verse for lovers, prose for ruffians, songs for clowns.
7. When in doubt, add the letters "eth" to the end of verbs (he runneth, he trippeth, he falleth).
8. To add weight to your opinions, try starting them with methinks, mayhaps, in sooth or wherefore.
9. When wooing ladies: try comparing her to a summer’s day. If that fails, say "Get thee to a nunnery!"
10. When wooing lads: try dressing up like a man. If that fails, throw him in the Tower, banish his friends and claim the throne.

I must admit that I randomly "talk like Shakespeare" anyway. I am much enamored of Much Ado About Nothing, for one, and have memorized large swathes of the play, including much of Beatrice and Benedick's witty bickering. Because he found it funny, my oldest brother likewise memorized certain parts so that we could go back and forth at the dinner table on many a mother-maddening occasion.

Now, we randomly and occasionally throw these mean-spirited yet well-worded barbs back and forth through text to our ridiculous glee.

...

And this has been your moment of "Shakespeare in the Modern Day"! I bid thee good morrow!

I'm making my seniors read a poem each day in class since it's National Poetry Month. We take the first few minutes of class to read the poem, briefly discuss what it's about, and then to express what we think about it or how it makes us feel.

Today's poem was Percy Bysshe Shelley's "Ozymandias." For your edification (and/or enjoyment), find the text of this poem below the cut:

( Look upon my works, ye mighty... )

Of course, I had to explain it to them. I don't mean that I simply had to fill them in on the historical context (Ramses II and all that). NO. I had to tell them that, within the text of the poem, you read that the author meets a traveler who tells him about a broken statue of arrogant expression. And that the traveler reads an inscription that proves very ironic, given the shattered statue and the encroaching barren sands.

As I was explaining these basics to them, they interrupted me no less than twice to tell me they didn't understand. I became vexed and spoke over them, quite loudly, and somewhat caustically. All this before I even got to the historical aspects.

I weep for the future of America.

Meanwhile, in my Film Studies class, we've been watching Casablanca. At least 1.5 students actually got into it. I was so pleased and I didn't mind at all having to stop the movie multiple times to explain quips, plot points, or context to them. They were interested and wanted to understand. That was so refreshing.

Casablanca is one of my favorite movies of all time. It comes from an era when movie-makers didn't assume their audiences were stupid or possessed of 2-minute attention spans. I love the clever wordplay, the characters, and... yeah, it's just awesome.

I am clearly too tired, yet I said I would finish watching Van Wilder with my brothers. Obviously this is a far cry from the film I was just describing, but it's still amusing. Ryan Reynolds cracks me up.


P.S. For an awesome post on the myth of the medieval knight, please see this post on sirandrew's journal!