CSI: Shakespeare

Does everything in modern culture find its source in Shakespeare?


WARWICK

Come hither, gracious sovereign, view this body.


KING HENRY VI

That is to see how deep my grave is made; For with his soul fled all my worldly solace, For seeing him I see my life in death.


WARWICK

As surely as my soul intends to live With that dread King that took our state upon him To free us from his father’s wrathful curse, I do believe that violent hands were laid Upon the life of this thrice-famed duke.

SUFFOLK

A dreadful oath, sworn with a solemn tongue! What instance gives Lord Warwick for his vow?


WARWICK

See how the blood is settled in his face. Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost, Of ashy semblance, meagre, pale and bloodless, Being all descended to the labouring heart; Who, in the conflict that it holds with death, Attracts the same for aidance ‘gainst the enemy; Which with the heart there cools and ne’er returneth To blush and beautify the cheek again. But see, his face is black and full of blood, His eye-balls further out than when he lived, Staring full ghastly like a strangled man; His hair uprear’d, his nostrils stretched with struggling; His hands abroad display’d, as one that grasp’d And tugg’d for life and was by strength subdued: Look, on the sheets his hair you see, is sticking; His well-proportion’d beard made rough and rugged, Like to the summer’s corn by tempest lodged. It cannot be but he was murder’d here; The least of all these signs were probable.


Warrick Brown vs the Earl of Warwick?

Catholic Cardinal Admits The Truth

"'You can find that book everywhere and the risk is that many people who read it believe that those fairy tales are real,' he said. 'I think I have the responsibility to clear things up to unmask the cheap lies contained in books like that.'"

Oh, wait a minute, he's talking about "The Da Vinci Code." I thought he was talking about the Bible.

And the scary part? This guy, until very recently, was the number 2 guy in "The Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith".

You might know it better as its popular name, "The Inquisition."

How Wonderfully Odd

You'll recall, dear reader, my writing about bluegrass and Del McCoury
recently. Well, here's something interesting and odd and maybe just
plain freaky that you'll learn only here:

William Gibson listens to Del, too.

At least I'm pretty sure he does.

I recently decided to re-read "Virtual Light" and its two companion
novels (won't call them a trilogy - each work alone, but better
together), "Idoru" and "All Tomorrow's Parties". In ATP one of the
characters is a wiry and weird singer, Buell Creedmore.

And Chevette, another character we know from Virtual Light, is given a
knife she saw made with her protector and father figure, now dead. The
knife is hammered from a drive chain of a 1952 Vincent White Lighting
motorcycle. The chapter she receives it is titled "Vincent White
Lighting."

Knowing nothing more, it's a powerful story. More so when you know
McCoury's music and singing.

Especially this: Vincent Black Lighting

Billy boy, you deep.

The Taste of The Win

Something odd has happened since I began playing poker.

I know success. I know love, recognition, pride. I am intimate with
their opposites as well. But I really didn't know winning. I suppose
it's because I never played sports, team or individual. I've never
been much of a game player - fun, but not challenging. I don't have
the right sort of mind for chess - I'm too visceral and impatient.
There is satisfaction at finishing a puzzle, writing, making something
with my own hands. But winning is different and I never knew.

Success and accomplishment are satisfying, but typically slow to come
and more cerebral in their nature. But with the win, there is a
precise moment in time. It is clear, not only too the winner, but all
observers, who has won and what they have won. It is one of the prime
points that make sport so attractive. It is easier to excel at a sport
than to become good, wise, or accomplished. The young can win, can be
glorified much more easily than they can master a musical instrument,
succeed at a trade, gain intellectual stature.

But this isn't a reason to spurn sport, to turn away from the win.
There's something both purely animal and uniquely human in the win.
First, for a win, there must be a contest, and a contest requires
fairness. All opponents or contestants must be equal in their chances
to win for there to be a contest. A boxing match between unequal
boxers isn't a contest and doesn't produce the same glory as evenly
matched ones does. A sense of fairness has been observed in our
cousins, other primates. It is innate, a built in module for sensing
what is fair. And they, as well as we, seem to understand cheating as
well and will not be observed cheating or stealing, if possible.

When I sit down at the poker table and the first hand is dealt I feel a
rush of adrenaline that sets my body vibrating. For many, this would
be an obstacle. For me, through age and experience, especially my
training in the theater and hundreds of hours on the stage and
performance, it's a benefit. That burst of energy is a welcome friend.
To me it means, "focus, you're on." And it sustains. And also
through my theatrical training, I know how to play the people, not the
cards. I know how to watch and listen and most importantly, think
under pressure. What you're dealt is random and unlike chess, the
outcomes are not fixed for those that can calculate the percentages and
likelihoods. What is important is how predictable is your opponent.
Staying calm, focused, and watching the opponent. It is a pleasurable
time of hyperawareness.

And it may be that poker requires something to be at stake. Even a
small amount of money (and we only play for small pots), make it more
than a pleasant passing of the time if one loses. Frankly, you can't
play poker without something real at stake - the nature of the game
requires the analysis of gain and loss. If it's just markers, why not
go for it? But if that marker represents real, hard currency it
becomes clear that going for it is not always the best.

And then, if I play well and the randomness doesn't overcome me, there
is a moment, a grand moment when I've won. There's nothing like it.

I'm not concerned about being addicted. First, I know my limits, and
for the moment, they are friendly games, played once or twice a month.
There are too many other things I enjoy out of life and sitting playing
cards every night isn't remotely attractive. And there's the balancing
effect of losing, which is as unpleasant as winning is grand. But the
real chance of losing must be there to make winning sweet. Knowing how
to lose, what to learn from it, keeping balanced in the face of the
loss, is equally valuable.

Winning is better.