As we end the bloodbath that is Titus Andronicus, as we end our second month of our three-year journey, I want to thank all of you.

I have had a blast reading and writing about the works and words of Shakespeare (no I'm not quitting... I'm just saying publicly what I've been thinking privately for a week or so now).

The brain is like a muscle.  I had let mine sit and get fat, as I sat in front of my computer and tapped out code in a "petty pace from day to day," tap tap tap, "to the last syllable of recorded time" (Macbeth, V.v.20 and V.v.21).  But two and a half months ago, we started something here, and though my rants may sometimes be "a tale // Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, // Signifying nothing" (Macbeth, V.v.26-28), I can feel that muscle between my ears getting back into shape.

[What's with all the Macbeth today?  I dunno... I'm just goin' with it...]

Some of the blog entries are not the most well-written pieces in my portfolio, but in them is contained some of the best thinking I've done in a long while.  Getting back into academic fighting shape is hard, and I'm not there yet.  But I can feel my brain getting stronger.  The work is worth it, I'm sure.

It certainly feels good.



If you substitute my Shakespeare book for a razor, this just about gets it right for me:

from "My Friends" from Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street (Stephen Sondheim)

Speak to me, friend.
Whisper, I'll listen.
I know, I know
You've been locked out of sight
All these years!
Like me, my friend!
Well, I've come home
To find you waiting!
Home,
And we're together...
And we'll do wonders...
Won't we...?

At last, my
arm
is complete
again!

[What an appropriately bloody way to end the month, even if it's not Shakespeare.]

Thank you, Shakespeare.  Thank you, readers.  Thank you, Lisa.  [Thank you, Julie Powell somewhere in the ether, not knowing what you've inspired (mutated though it has)]

Tomorrow, we begin The Taming of the Shrew.