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Showing posts from January, 2017

A World Elsewhere says..... Sundays are for loafing, drinking coffee & reading books !

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loaf
v. [no obj] spend one's time in an aimless, idle way
loafer
n. [mass noun] a person who avoids work and spends their time idly





Blogging Short Stories #3 - THE STRANGE STORY OF PEOPLE WHO SAY THINGS TWICE

‘Let me introduce myself, introduce myself. My name’s Roger, Roger, and I have this strange habit, strange habit, of saying the same thing twice, saying the same thing twice.’
     I was intrigued to know more.
     ‘How did it begin?’ I asked him.
     ‘Well, well,’ Roger said, ‘I’m not sure, I’m not sure. I was quite young at the time, quite young at the time, certainly not old, certainly not old, and I suddenly found myself, suddenly found myself, saying something, saying something, that I’d only just said, only just said.’
     ‘Gosh,’ I said. ‘Did you see anyone about it?’
     ‘I did, I did,’ Roger said. ‘But there was nothing they could do, nothing they could do. Seems they know very little about it, very little about it. They’re carrying out a study, carrying out a study, to try to find the cause, try to find the cause. But until then, until then, I’m afraid we’re in limbo, afraid we’re in limbo.’
     ‘So there’s no treatment for it?’ I asked.
     ‘Not at the moment, not at the mom…

Reminiscences of a Cool Shakespearean

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I was about 18 years old when I bought my first Complete Works. I remember it well, a hardback book with a plain cover; thick, poor quality paper which quickly became tacky; and tiny print with no footnotes. It was absolutely the worst kind of books to begin an exploration of the works of the Bard. But I suppose that I must have persisted for at some point I graduated to individual editions of several of the plays. The Cambridge Shakespeare, with their red covers and a drawing of Shakespeare by Picasso, were my preferred editions, and I remember purchasing Hamlet, As You Like It, Troilus and Cressida, Othello, Richard III, and perhaps several more that I no longer recall. I carried my copy of Hamlet around with me for so long and read it so much that it literally fell to pieces. I particularly liked the prose scenes with their lively, witty, esoteric dialogue, such as Hamlet’s assertion that he was ‘but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.’ 2…