Quick note to self –

More from Bloom…. c.f. California gubernatorial race &c.

I was finished one chapter, looked for another, and in the table of contents, I saw my three plays listed as the “The Problem Plays,” most notably, Troilus and Cressida. Bloom writes about T&C, “It is also the most difficult and elitist of all his works.” (page 327)

Thersites: Here is such patchery, such juggling, and such knavery! all the
argument is a cuckold and a whore; a good quarrel to draw emulous factions and
bleed to death upon. Now, the dry serpigo on the subject! and war and lechery
confound all! (II.iii.80)

See: Thersites is an ill-formed Greek servant, a bit of comic relief throughout the play. And he’s ranting and raving, usually making rather pointed, if vulgar, comments.

Damn funny guy. I’ve seen this play a few times, read it several times, and enjoyed it immensely. The battle of Troy, in case you don’t remember, was over some woman who ran off with another guy, Thersites’s “cuckold and a whore.” But Thersites, while his comments might have been intended for political pundits of the time, and the character mocks them, some of his comments might really apply to more modern situations. Like that California race.

I got to get some sleep, I have to work today.

Austin – work – Texas & some Shakespeare:
“Sometimes am I king,
Then treasons make me wish myself a beggar,
And so I am. Then crushing penury
Persuades me I was better when a king;
Then am I king’d again, and by and by
Think that I am unking’d by Bolingbroke,
And straight am nothing.
Shakespeare’s Richard II (V.v.32-38)
(What I get for reading Bloom’s text before going to work.)

What struck me about the passage was that it appeals to how it feels, kingly and yet undone, at the same time. Being broke does that to a feller; although, I doubt that Richard II feels my pain. And going to the show, I was pretty much broke.

A Pisces buddy was there, with his three-pack of kids. Names? Bubba, Skeeter & Possom.

True story.

One client was translating for her hearing impaired sibling, who was quite gifted at lip reading but couldn’t make out a word I said. She made a funny face with this comment, “He says he ‘lives like a monk’,” and both of the women guffawed at that comment.

But I do live like a monk.

A group of us dined at Threadgill’s after work. I tried to take some pictures, but I guess this all sadly loses the air of camaraderie and gentle chiding. Plus everyone wants to know about Mars being backwards, “folks are a little tense.”

image

Me? I stopped off at Sandy’s, on the way home from Gill’s, hoping to catch a sunset. Snagged a Malt. It’s still summer time, and dip in the creek felt like a good idea, only I was just too tired.

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