Shakespeare Geek

The Mute and Pause Method

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 06:33:10 PST

Long-time readers of the blog know my special love for The Tempest, my excitement over the recent movie version by Julie Taymor, and my eventual crushing disappointment that followed. I can't begin to link to all the stories on those subjects over the years.

But that was then and this is now, and I've got a copy of the DVD here at home and I'm walking the kids through it in these little 10 minute before-you-go-to-bed bursts. They don't understand a word of it, and they tell me. And I'm ok with that, because I'm standing right there explaining to them, in these 10 minute chunks, precisely what's going on.

Last night it dawned on me that I'd stumbled across what I'll call the "mute and pause" teaching method. Specifically we were watching the scene where Gonzalo and Alonso have suddenly fallen asleep, and Antonio and Sebastian plot to kill them. I mute the scene, since the kids aren't getting the words at all.

"You see that guy? He's the real bad guy. He's here thinking, hey, the king's asleep, his son's dead, nobody else is around ... he's telling his friend, if we kill the king, then you can be king! His friend here, he's more of a medium bad guy, he's not the kind of guy that thinks of that first. But when somebody plants the idea in his brain he's all Yeahhhh.....*I* could be king! Good idea!"

You can't do this with a book, or a retelling, or even a stage play. From a child's perspective, that scene is long. They talk a lot. If you're forced to sit through that, or read that, and you don't understand it? Sure, I can see where it's confusing and boring. So what we get in my house is we get to *see* it, we get to see the bad guy's face and how he pulls his friend aside and whispers conspiratorial thoughts in his ear, all while getting the high level summary of what's going on. So they get more than just "story and character", they get a visual to go along with it. We bridge that gap toward "Shakespeare must be seen, not read!" Seeing goes a long way toward understanding, I agree completely. But not the whole way. So why not help the kids along?

Even better than the mute option is the pause option. *Click* pause. "See that, kids? See how Ariel has frozen time for a second? Ariel knows that Gonzalo - the nice man with the gray hair, who won't stop talking? He's Prospero's friend from a long time ago. Ariel sees that there's trouble, and he knows that Prospero would want his friend to be protected, so Ariel's about to foil the bad guys' plans." *Click* resume.

I could *never* do that for a stage performance. In the time it took me to lean over my seat and try to whisper that explanation, the scene will have progressed and we'd never catch up. But when reading it, you don't get that great tension of exactly how close it is, how they've got their swords up and ready to strike right at the moment Ariel wakes them.

One last thing, I'd also like to point out that I'm not just sacrificing the text in my muting and fast forwarding. I'm just picking my spots. For instance they got to hear the whole introduction of Trinculo and Caliban, and for the most part they understood it (and laughed their behinds off).

Today's lesson, though, was about Gonzalo. "Watch for something, kids. You know the white haired guy that won't shut up? He's a good and loyal friend, and that's a big deal. Even though he's in with the bad guys, he's a good guy. When they kicked Prospero and Miranda out of the kingdom and stuck them in the boat? It was Gonzalo who put the food and water and most importantly Prospero's magic books into the boat with them. You know how Gonzalo is a good guy? Because when the king falls asleep, you've got these two other guys over here whose first thoughts are let's kill him and become king! But good old Gonzalo, who is really pretty old to be doing any fighting, when Ariel wakes him up watch this - his very first words aren't 'Holy cow I fell asleep!' or "What's going on?" or anything, his very first thought is "Preserve the king!" So that's how you know that he's a good guy. That's the guy you want on your team."

In any other context you might completely miss that line. But once your attention is called to it, it's a very important character trait. At least, in my humble opinion. :)

Shakespearean Light Bulb Jokes (Guest Post)

noreply@blogger.com (kj) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 08:33:35 PST

Bardfilm and Shakespeare Geek have put their heads together and taken the rare step of combining Shakespeare and the genre of Light Bulb Jokes, with the following results:

How many Henry VIs does it take to change a light bulb?
Only one, but he has to do it in three parts.

How many Prosperos does it take to change a light bulb?
Are you kidding? He has Caliban take care of all that kind of thing.

How many Brutuses does it take to change a light bulb?
Only one, but he needs the help of 23 conspirators to do it.

How many Ophelias does it take to change a light bulb?
STOP! You wouldn't let someone that wet near electricity, would you?

How many Macbeths does it take to change a light bulb?
I wouldn’t know. Every time he sees a working light bulb, he yells, “Out, out, brief candle!” and smashes it to bits.

How many Othellos does it take to change a light bulb?
Two—after he puts out the light, he puts out the light!

No, really. How many Othellos does it take to change a light bulb?
Wait a minute—this bulb has been changed a thousand times in secret! O that I had nothing known!

How many Lears does it take to change a light bulb?
Only one, but the light bulb needs to convince him that it LOVES to be changed.

How many Calibans does it take to change a light bulb?
Only one, but first you have to teach him language and then you have to endure his cursing.

How many Pericleses does it take to change a light bulb?
I don't know—I'm not familiar with that play.

How many Sebastians does it take to change a light bulb in Olivia's bedroom?
Viola. And Orsino pounding on the door to let him in.

How many Lavinias does it take to change a light bulb?
Oh, that's really tasteless. And so is that "tasteless" comment. Eww.

How many Earls of Oxford does it take to change a light bulb?
Oh, come ON! Don't EVEN get me STARTED!

Ok, how many Shakespeares does it take to change a light bulb?
THERE'S NO MENTION OF ANY LIGHTBULBS IN THE WILL! ONLY A MEMBER OF THE ARISTOCRACY WOULD HAVE OWNED—Sorry about that, folks. I have no idea how he snuck in. Carry on.

How many Claudiuses does it take to change a light bulb?
He won't change them—he just keeps yelling, "Give me some light! Away!"

How many Hamlets does it take to change a light bulb?
Just one, but it takes him a really long time to make up his mind, and he only eventually changes it after Claudius pushes his mom down the cellar stairs.

Or, how many members of the Danish Royal Court does it take to change a light bulb?
None. They all kill each other and then Horatio changes it while drawing his breath in pain.

How many Muses of Fire does it take to change a light bulb?
One, but it will also ascend the brightest heaven of invention if you ask it nicely.

How many Angelos does it take to change a light bulb?
One, but first he'll deny it—and then he'll discover he changed the OTHER bulb!

How many Claudios does it take to change a lightbulb?
Trick question, the lightbulb didn't really blow out—Don John just loosened it because he is so very evil.

How many Benedicks does it take to change a light bulb?
Only one, but you have to convince him that the light bulb wants to be changed. And then you have to convince the light bulb that it wants to be changed by Benedick.

How many Rude Mechanicals does it take to change a light bulb?
Well, you figure you need somebody to hold the ladder, somebody to get up and change the actual bulb, somebody downstairs at the fusebox, somebody to run to the store to get bulbs in the first place.... So, one. Nick Bottom. He'll play all the roles.

How many Gentlemen of Verona does it take to change a light bulb?
Same as the number of Noble Kinsmen it takes!

How many Noble Kinsmen does it take to change a light bulb?
Two.

I don't get it.
And if we made a really obscure Two Noble Kinsmen reference nobody would have gotten that, either. ;)

How many sonnets does it take to change a light bulb?
One hundred and fifty or thereabouts, although a whole bunch in the middle apparently suggest that they prefer the dark. And 400 years of debate over which light bulb it was in the first place.

Our thanks for the idea behind this guest post to kj, the author of Bardfilm. Bardfilm is a blog that comments on films, plays, and other matters related to Shakespeare.

Geeklet Story Time, Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 19:31:26 PST

...so, where was I?

The 5yr old, after getting a shortened form of Macbeth, wants the one about the king who divides his kingdom up among his daughters. Here we go!

Once upon a time there was a king, who had gotten so old and tired that he didn't want to be king anymore. He decided to split his kingdom into three parts and give each part to one of his daughters. So he called them all together and said, "Tell me how much you love me. Whoever loves me the most gets the best part of my kingdom."

Well, the first daughter got up and said "I love you *thhiisssss* much, and I love no one else but you." The king was pleased by this and gave her a share of the kingdom.

The second daughter got up and said, "Forget her, *I* love you *TTTTHHHIISSSS* much, and I, too, love no one else but you." The king was again very pleased, and gave the second daughter her share.

He then turned to his third daughter, the youngest, and said, "And now let's hear the best of all, because you are our favorite and we know that you love us the most of all."

"No, father," she told him. "I love you very very much, but I will not lie to you and tell you that I only love you, because when I get married I will love my husband, and when we have children I will love them too."

Well, her father the king was not happy with this answer at all. He got so mad that he said she would not have any share of the kingdom, and he banished her.

...at this point a choked little voice asks me, "But did he still love her?" And I am caught so by surprise that I don't quite know what to do with myself. My little guy has been hanging on every word, and he's an emphathetic little bugger.

"Oh, he absolutely still loved her," I told him, "He was just really really mad because he thought she was saying that she didn't love him. He didn't understand her answer. Are you sad?"

He nods, unable to get any words out.

I squeeze him a bit tighter and remind him that this story has a happy ending, remember? "We're going to find out that she loved him most of all."

So, the story continues. The king wanted to go live in the castle of the first daughter, but he wanted to have 100 soldiers with him just like any king should. But the soldiers ate all the food in the castle and made a big mess and didn't pick up after themselves...

Again, I am stopped. "Why didn't they pick up after themselves?"

"Well, soldiers can be pretty rowdy, and they really didn't listen to anybody. The king wasn't the king anymore, so they didn't think they had to do what he said."

He thought about this. "If I had 100 soldiers and I told them to pick up after themselves, would they listen to me?"

I assured him that absolutely, his soldiers would listen to him.

So, anyway, the first daughter told him that if he wanted to live there, he couldn't have his soldiers. So the king decided that he would go live with the second daughter. But, alas, the second daughter agreed with the first and said that no, he could not have his soldiers with him there, either.

So the king, who was very old and starting to get really sick, said that he would live alone and went out into the forest in the really bad rain. His remaining friends, Fool and Kent and Edgar, who were the most loyal of all, went out with him to protect him.

But remember the third daughter? The one who was banished when the king got mad at her for not saying she loved him the most of all? That daughter had gone out and formed an army of her own. And with her army she came charging back into the kingdom to do battle with the two evil sisters. She beat them, took the kingdom back, and rescued her father from the forest and told him that he could come and live with her forever with as many soldiers as he wanted. Because she really was the one that loved him the most of all.

And they all lived happily ever after.

"Were the other sisters allowed to come visit too?" asked my little empathetic guy, who didn't want to see anybody's feelings hurt.

"Oh, absolutely," I told him. "Once the third daughter came back and said that the king could live with her, everything was forgiven and they were all happy again."

He's probably going to hate me when he gets older and learns the real story, but if you'd heard his little voice crack over concern whether Lear still loved Cordelia, it would break your heart.

Geeklet Story Time

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 17:57:38 PST

So tonight my wife's at work and I'm putting the kids to bed. My older girls are in their rooms reading, and I'm laying (lying?) down in my 5yr old son's bed with him.

"Daddy!" yells the 9yr old from her room, "There's a Shakespeare quote in my book!"

"Which one?" I yell back.

"Life's but a walking shadow..." she begins.

"...that struts and frets his hour upon the stage. A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." I reply. And, yes, I missed a few words in the middle.

"Yes, that one," comes the reply.

"Macbeth. That's a good one."

"Why is that a good one?" asks the 5yr old.

"Well, he's sad because his wife died," I say.

Somehow I end up telling the story of Macbeth. To my 5yr old. As a bedtime story. My 5yr old who is prone to bad dreams as it is.

I now present my very shortened, very censored, off-the-top-of-my-head version of Macbeth, suitable for 5yr olds:

Once upon a time there was a soldier in the army named Macbeth. One day when he was coming home from the war he ran into a witch who said, "Greetings, King of Scotland!"

"I'm not king of Scotland, you crazy witch!" said Macbeth.

"Not yet!" said the witch. "But you will be."

So Macbeth went home and told his wife this crazy story. "You know what we should do?" said his wife. "We should invite the king over, and then when he's sleeping we should take his crown! Then you could be king!"

"I don't know about that," said Macbeth, "I mean, he's a good king, he's never really done anything to us."

"What sort of chicken are you?!" his wife yelled at him. "The witch said you are going to be king. How do you expect that to happen if you don't take action?"

Macbeth agreed, and they invited the king over to dinner. Sure enough, that might while he slept they came into his room and stole his crown, and then Macbeth proclaimed himself king of Scotland.

Well this was just plain silly, as everybody knew you don't get to be king just by taking the crown. But Macbeth locked himself up in a castle and wouldn't listen to anyone who tried to talk sense into him.

Meanwhile, the king's family went off and rallied support to get their crown back. They brought in Macduff, a brave warrior, to face Macbeth in hand-to-hand combat. Macbeth thought that he would easily win because the witches told him that he would be king. But Macduff won the battle, and rather than keep the crown for himself he gave it back to the original king who was the rightful owner.

"What happened to Macbeth?" my audience of 1 asks.

"He lost the battle," I say, stalling.

"How did he lose the battle?"

"They had a sword fight, and he lost. Macduff made him surrender."

"So did Macbeth go to jail?" I love the 5yr old perspective.

"You know," I tell him, "I'm not sure. The story doesn't really say what happens next. But I think you're right, I think that he probably went to jail."

At this point, and I am totally not kidding, my 5yr old decides that he's in a Shakespeare mood, and he wants to hear the one about the father who has to divide his kingdom up among his three daughters but he gets mad because one says she doesn't love him most of all. I'm flabbergasted at this - I may have told him Lear like, once, a year or more ago.

As a matter of fact, I have this story that I told my middle daughter back in 2007, but my son was only 18months old! I know I've told him the story, but right now I can't find a link to it.

...continued in part 2, because this is a very long post. :)

Fate v. Free Will in Romeo + Juliet (Plus, Changing The Ending?)

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Fri, 20 Jan 2012 06:17:39 PST

While cruising through Yahoo! Answers today I saw that somebody had asked about the theme of destiny in Romeo and Juliet. Then something hit me. It's easy to point to the "star-crossed lovers" right in the prologue, and later Romeo, who is Fortune's fool, defies to stars, etc etc etc.

But here's the thing, I've also always thought of the play as a lesson to the parents about not being so stubborn in your ancient grudges and your own problems that you don't realize what you're about to lose.

At the end of the play, the prince gives his great "All are punished" speech and the two families shake hands and build statues. I don't know about you, but I'm definitely left with a feeling of, "See how stupid you've been? If only you'd changed your ways and seen what was happening, this all could have been prevented."

And there's the problem. Which is it? Is Shakespeare giving us a story where we're supposed to come away thinking that this tragedy could have been prevented? Or that it was Fate, and that these kids were going to end up dead no matter what happened?

I'd never really thought of this before, but has anybody ever done an ending to this play where the Prince still gets to give his speech, but rather than the statue building stuff, the two families turn their backs on each other and the grudge continues? I think that would be genius. Depressing, but genius. Then you've got the more helpless feeling that no, these kids never had a chance, the feud is never going to end even in the face of such overwhelming tragedy.

Sounds and Sweet Airs That Give Delight, and Hurt Not

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 07:18:48 PST

So I'm walking my kids slowly through last year's Tempest movie, now that I have it on DVD. By slowly I mean about 5-10 minutes at a time before they go to bed, with heavy voiceover. They seem to be confused (not understanding a word of the dialogue), but interested.

So we're at the scene where Ariel, singing "Full fathom five," guides Ferdinand across the island to where Miranda can see him. It's easy to see a how a big part of the play is missed here. The kids can see Ariel, singing. They ask me whether Ferdinand can see Ariel, I say no. I try to explain this whole idea that, from the perspective of the shipwrecked sailors, all they know is that they miraculously survived the wreck, showed up on shore with their clothes completely dry, and they hear music. It's very important in a number of scenes that they want to follow the music, which we as the audience know is Ariel's way of bringing them where he wants them to go. The music is so prevalent that even the child-monster Caliban gives his beautiful speech about how not only is this magical sound no big deal, but he's actually come to quite love it.

Very hard to convey that on film, where we've become so used to separating out the idea of "soundtrack" that it's difficult to understand when the characters on screen can hear the music and when they can't. On top of that you have to get across the idea of "following" the music, which seems to be coming from over there somewhere. To the film audience, the music is coming from the same place the dialogue is coming from, it has no direction.

So that gets me to my discussion question. Let's say that you're staging a Tempest. What sort of special things can you do with the music to get this point across? I'm thinking of stuff like having speakers randomly behind and around (under?) the audience so we can feel where precisely the music is coming from, and have the characters actually come out into the crowd, literally trying to follow it.

That's a very specific question, but I'm also curious about broader answers on the whole "What can you accomplish with live theater that is hard-to-impossible on film?"

The Return of Geeklet

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 13:58:40 PST

My girls got Kindle Fires for Christmas, so my 5yr old son has basically taken my old iPhone and uses it for his own game playing.

Just now he wanders in, face in the screen, and says, "Daddy, I'm reading Shakespeare."

I look at the iPhone and sure enough he's gotten into my Shakespeare app. Specifically, Winter's Tale.

"Oh," I tell him, "You've got Winter's Tale there. That's a hard one." He is actually looking at the Dramatic Personae.

"Well I don't know what the words say," he tells me, "But I like to look at the words." He has never grown out of the little speech thing he has were all his "er" sounds come out like "or", so "words" actually sounds like "wards" and it is the cutest darned thing. :)

"You can always sound out the words and find the ones you do know," I tell him.

"Can you find me Hamlet?"

"Sure," I tell him, and bring up Hamlet, Act I.

He tries to walk away reading it, then quickly comes back saying, "I don't know these words. Can you find me To be or not to be?"

"Sure," I tell him again, and show him how to look up Act III. I find the speech he wants and show it to him.

Off he goes, reading Hamlet. I'm sure he put it down 2 seconds after he left the room, but still, gotta love the boy.

Shakespeare's Most Shocking Moment?

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 10:17:04 PST

While discussing Emilia's big final scene over in another post, I thought of a good question.

There's plenty of killing in Shakespeare's works. Macbeth kills Duncan in his sleep, Hamlet kills Polonius (thinking him the king) in front of his mother, Tybalt kills Mercutio (accidentally?) and Romeo kills Tybalt (probably not accidentally).

Which do you feel is Shakespeare's most shocking moment? The one that you absolutely do not see coming? Plenty of people die in Macbeth, but I'm not sure if any of the deaths is shocking. After all, when people aren't dying or killing, they're talking about it. Lot of blood in that one. The murder of Macduff's family is scary, but you also know that the murderers have been dispatched, so you see it coming (even if you do see it from between your fingers, underneath your seat).

Mercutio's death is pretty shocking, no doubt. Once upon a time we talked at length about how, up until this point, Romeo and Juliet is a romantic comedy. And then when the audience is least expecting it? Bang, likeable sidekick, dead. I think in fact that this one is so shocking that it takes a little while to sink in. There's still half a play left to go.

Hamlet's attack on a defenseless arras is certainly up there. He's talking to his mom. He hears a noise. Thinking it *her husband*, not to mention *his uncle*, and oh by the way, *the frickin king*, he jumps up and without another word blindly stabs him. For a guy that's spent the entire first half of the play saying "Let's think this through..." it's a pretty bold move.

But I think I'm going to give the prize to Iago murdering his wife Emilia right in front of everybody, to shut her up.

You think that we've already hit the climax of the play. Othello has killed his wife, Emilia has discovered the truth, the authorities are now on the scene and we've essentially moved into what I love calling "the Horatio scene" where we wrap up all the loose ends before we go home. Or are we?

EMILIA

O thou dull Moor! that handkerchief thou speak'st of
I found by fortune and did give my husband;
For often, with a solemn earnestness,
More than indeed belong'd to such a trifle,
He begg'd of me to steal it.

IAGO

Villanous whore!

EMILIA

She give it Cassio! no, alas! I found it,
And I did give't my husband.

IAGO

Filth, thou liest!

EMILIA

By heaven, I do not, I do not, gentlemen.
O murderous coxcomb! what should such a fool
Do with so good a woman?

OTHELLO

Are there no stones in heaven
But what serve for the thunder?--Precious villain!

He runs at IAGO
IAGO, from behind, stabs EMILIA, and exit

GRATIANO

The woman falls; sure, he hath kill'd his wife.

We know that Iago is an evil bastard before this, of course. But he's always been the schemer and manipulator. Now he's in a room filled with the equivalent of a police squad ready to arrest him for his crimes. Does he just run? No, he *stabs his wife in front of everyone* first, an then he runs. That is just full on crazy, right there. Afterward you can argue "Sure, it was always clear he was capable of something like that," but that's a world apart from seeing it coming.

I love to read Gratiano's line as, "WTF, did he just kill his wife?!" like even the characters on stage can't believe what just happened.

Any other contenders? Make your case.

My Husband! My Husband?

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 06:04:48 PST

So I was flipping through Othello today helping somebody look for a monologue, and I was struck by Emilia's reaction to Othello right at the end of the play, where Othello basically says "Iago told me everything" and it all falls into place for Emilia. Check it out:

OTHELLO

Cassio did top her; ask thy husband else.
O, I were damn'd beneath all depth in hell,
But that I did proceed upon just grounds
To this extremity. Thy husband knew it all.

EMILIA

My husband!

OTHELLO

Thy husband.

EMILIA

That she was false to wedlock?

OTHELLO

Ay, with Cassio. Nay, had she been true,
If heaven would make me such another world
Of one entire and Perfect chrysolite,
I'ld not have sold her for it.

EMILIA

My husband!

OTHELLO

Ay, 'twas he that told me first:
An honest man he is, and hates the slime
That sticks on filthy deeds.

EMILIA

My husband!

OTHELLO What needs this iteration, woman? I say thy husband.

Emilia repeats the exact same line 3 times. Othello even asks her "Why do you keep repeating yourself?"

Somebody get into her head for me. How do you play that? Is it denial? Not necessarily that her husband is a bastard, I'm sure she knows that - I'm thinking more that Emilia recognizes that if *she'd* seen through Iago sooner, then Desdemona might still be alive.

Or is it more like "That son of a b*tch I'll kill him!" Like she's not even listening to Othello, she's already put everything together in her head and now the fact that she keeps saying "My husband" over and over again has nothing to do with Othello.

Or, something else?

Mostly just curious. If she'd said it once, or if she'd worded it differently each time, I wouldn't even have noticed. But the repetition is obviously there for a reason, so as an actor or director how do you make it work? Why does she do that?

Who Was David Garrick?

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 06:14:24 PST

Here's one of those times where I get to ask the readers a question. I've heard the name David Garrick mentioned frequently enough in the history of Shakespeare. But I don't really know much about him. So, rather than just going to read his wikipedia page I thought I'd ask the audience. What I'm mostly curious to is this - would you argue that he was a major positive force in crafting the image of Shakespeare we know today, or do you think that perhaps he did more harm than good by catapulting Shakespeare until into that "literary deity" realm, causing people to spend the last 200+ years trying to knock him back down to reality?

Tempest DVD Winners!

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 19:35:37 PST

Thanks everyone for the amazing suggestions about what to do with all my Tempest DVDs! It's going to take me awhile to fully process what I can realistically do, but it seems like almost everybody suggested donating to local schools/clubs, so that will certainly be on the list. I also like the idea of creating something, like producing a modern interpretation of a scene from the play.

Anyway, I promised 3 winners chosen randomly, and here they are: Cass, Brian and Alexi! Even if I already have your address, please drop me a line so I don't have to go searching for it.

Thanks for playing, everybody! Look for more opportunities to win (both from me and from some other Shakespeare blogs, hint hint big hint) soon!

Android Shakespeare

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 12:34:14 PST

Ok, show of hands, how many of you out there have an Android phone or tablet device? Note that this includes the new Nook and Kindle Fire devices, those are both Android.

Second question, how many of you would be interested in helping me test an application I'm working on? This would involve me sending you a software "package", you trusting me that I'm not doing anything bad to you, and you knowing how to get it installed on your machine when it doesn't come from the market. (Try that with an Apple device! :)) Note, in case you know enough about the terminology, that this in no way involves "rooting" your device.

As a career programmer I've forever wanted to combine my abilities at coding with my passion for my subject, and it's always eluded me. I'm the closest now that I've ever been, I've got an actual application that I've actually packaged and run on my phone. It's not beautiful, but that's part of why I want other people to see it so I can ask you, "What should I make this do?"

Much like writing my first ebook, this is a learning experience. The "meat" of the matter, the big where you have the idea or the feature or the content, you want to think that this is 90% of the job and then you just wrap it up and it's ready for public consumption. It's more like the other way around - the idea itself represents maybe 20% of the final, and then you've got a lot more work in "finishing" it.

Anyway, let me know. This post is going up late on a Friday so I have no idea who is going to see it, but I gotta start somewhere. Thanks!

UPDATED: By let me know, I meant email me. I need some way to send you the files! I probably should have been more clear about that.

Discuss: Did McKellen Just Out Shakespeare?

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 06:28:18 PST

In case you missed it going by on Twitter I'll post it again - there's a quote going around attributed to Sir Ian McKellen that says of course Shakespeare was gay. Honestly, when I saw the headline go by that "Shakespeare actor says Shakespeare was gay" I thought, "Well there's a stupid and uninformed actor trying to get his name in the paper." Needless to say I was quite surprised to see Sir Ian looking back at me when I clicked.

I'm trying to find the original source since all I can find are clips out of context, but here's the juicy part:

SIR Ian McKellen: “No doubt Shakespeare was gay. His predilection was evident from his works. An unmistakenly feminine portrait of his patron Henry Wriothesley adds evidence that early sonnets to ‘fair youth’ were probably meant for males.

“Married, with children, he left his wife in Stratford to live in London. I’d say he slept with men. ‘The Merchant of Venice,’ centering on how the world treats gays as well as Jews, has a love triangle between an older man, younger man and a woman. And complexity in his comedies with cross-dressing and disguises is immense. Shakespeare obviously enjoyed sex with men as well as women.”

Clearly this merits discussion. I am hoping (nay, assuming) that Sir Ian was being a bit silly, as I don't often see anybody with a Shakespeare credit to their name saying that there's "obviously" or "no doubt" about anything in the man's life.

Discuss.

An Autobiography Game

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 06:03:06 PST

For Christmas I treated myself to a subscription at Audible.com, since I've found that in general my most productive reading time takes the form of listening in the car for at least an hour a day during the commute when I'm a captive audience. Bonus over traditional audiobooks is that the audible player has a nice "read at 1.5x speed" feature that I've found cranks through the material at a quicker pace without making it harder to follow.

They give you a free credit to start, so naturally I went and grabbed Contested Will. What, doesn't everybody? :) I know that I'll never find the time to sit down and read it (despite the review copy which I was given), so this seemed like the ideal compromise. This is an unabridged audio, so between that and having the paper copy to fall back on for any required visuals, I should be good.

This is not, however, my review of that book. I'm barely 25% done with it. I am quite enjoying Shapiro's dissection of exactly when "experts" in Shakespeare went all banana sandwiches on the subject and started looking for autobiographical clues anywhere they chose.

And, thus, my new game. Pick a bit of something Shakespeare wrote, and make the case that it tells us something autobiographical about the man. It can be your own invention or something you read and found amusing. It can be something you've proposed in the past or something fresh off the top of your head.

With tongue firmly in cheek here's my contribution, which I'm sure someone must have come up with prior but I'd never heard it: Winter's Tale tells the story of King Leontes accusing his pregnant wife of infidelity, and then paying for this cruelty with the untimely death of his only son. As we all know, Shakespeare married Anne Hathaway after she became pregnant. Later, their only son died. Clearly this is Shakespeare's way of acknowledging that he long doubted that he was the father of that first child. The death of Shakespeare's son Hamnet was God's way of punishing him for his doubts.

Next?

Time for Resolutions Again!

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 07:12:38 PST

Last year I posted some Shakespeare Resolutions of my own. Shall we see how I did?

speak publicly on the topic of Shakespeare. Not sure how, exactly, but it's a goal. Take it to the real world.

As I'm sure everybody knows by now I came *this close* to teaching a unit on Shakespeare to my daughter's second grade class. I was preparing material and everything. Could still happen in the new year, with the fourth graders.

use my experience in publishing my first book, Hear My Soul Speak, to try a second.

I got nothin. I have an idea for a book and know exactly how I'd go about doing it, just haven't made it happen yet. No excuses. Bardfilm knows what I'm talking about.

expand my empire by turning on some of the Shakespeare-related domains I've been sitting on for awhile now.

I launched ShakespeareAnswers.com in May 2011. I call this one a success. I still have another domain that I've not done anything with, but as it is I'm not doing a stellar job at keeping up the sites I've already got.

make more concerted effort to see Shakespeare productions.

Can't say I made any special efforts. Saw my usual production in Boston Common, and the local Rebel Shakespeare show that came to town, but I didn't do anything special.

Ok, so, how about for the new year?

I'm going to keep "Speak publicly on the topic of Shakespeare" on the list, because I still want this to happen and still think I can make it happen.
Develop and distribute a Shakespeare mobile app. Working on this now. Not sure what final form it will take, but my day job as a programmer means that I've wanted to develop mobile apps since there were mobile apps (and by that I mean going all the way back to the Palm Pilot days). Now circumstances may finally be correct so I can actually make something happen. Stay tuned.
Merchandise. We had a brief run last year where we introduced some new products, and they seem to have done well (the iPad cases are a big hit). I need to find the time to do that more often, because it translates directly into revenue for the site.

Think I can do it? How about you, what have you got? What did you accomplish, and what do you plan to accomplish? I'd say "hope to" but that's too wishy washy. Don't just sit back and hope it happens, plan to make it happen!

Happy New Year!

A Plethora of Prosperas : Tempest DVD Giveaway!

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 06:19:57 PST

&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;ffff&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt; So here we are at the beginning of a new year, and here I am sitting on a big pile of movies that I have to give away. Specifically I've got *9* copies of Julie Taymor's 2010 The Tempest, starring Helen Mirren. Remember this one? We certainly talked a lot about it.

It doesn't happen often enough for my taste, but I do like it when a Shakespeare movie comes along in the theatre and then you get to sit down with the DVD and get a second view. Who knows how my opinion might change? Maybe I'll have the kids watch it (or, parts of it) after all.

In all my giveaways and contests I've never had this many copies of a single item, and I'm not quite sure how I want to proceed. It seems boring to simply give them out randomly to 9 people who leave comments on this post. I mean, good for you all, given that the average post here nets less than 20 comments so you'd probably have a better than 50% chance of winning one. But where's the fun in that? :)

So here's my idea. I'll start by giving away *3* of them. To enter, all you've got to do is leave a comment on this post with an idea about what I should do with the rest of them. If somebody else beats you to an idea you can still add a comment saying "Yeah, do that" and be entered for this first round. For this first round I'll pick from all the commenters regardless of content, so don't be afraid your idea won't win versus somebody else's. Everybody who comments can be entered.

Let's say that everything needs to be in by end of day Friday (January 6). I'll randomly pick 3 winners over the weekend. Since we're doing this in the comments I will have to publicly announce winners (I won't have your email addresses), so remember to check back in early next week!

After we've given away the first 3 I'll see what sort of ideas got cooked up and look toward giving away the rest.

Got the idea? As usual, I have to limit the contest to continental US residents. I am shipping these on my own nickel. Sorry international folks. Then again I'm not sure whether these DVDs would work across regions anyway.

As far as I can tell I'm not required to do an online giveaway, either, so if you think that donating some copies to the local school or library would be the best option, let me hear it.

TL;DR - Got 9 copies of Tempest DVD, giving away 3 this weekend to US resident folks who suggest ideas, not necessarily online, about what to do with the rest.

Thanks very much to Lauren from BH Impact for hooking us up with the most generous giveaway yet!

(*) P.S. - Extra geek points for you if you recognize the Three Amigos quote from the title ;)

David Tennant On The Enterprise?

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Thu, 29 Dec 2011 06:06:46 PST

How do you put a label on David Tennant? It seems unfair to categorize him solely in Dr. Who or Shakespeare terms. So instead of introducing somebody who needs no introduction I'll just point out that he's on the Nerdist podcast with Chris Hardwick this week.

I'll let you know up front, not a lot of Shakespeare. Much Ado gets some time, but mostly as it pertains to his schedule of doing other things. There's also a nod to Hamlet, and some very nice praise for Sir Patrick. Absolutely nothing at all on his methods for acting Shakespeare, favorite Shakespeare plays, anything like that at all. Almost the entire interview is divided up between Dr. Who and Fright Night, which is understandable when you realize where the Nerdist is coming from. They're firmly in that sci-fi / comic / movie culture.

The title of this post comes from an idea that Tennant drops that, were it to happen, would surely cause the internet to explode. Given that Hardwick had just had JJ Abrams (director of the new Star Trek movies) on his show and was planning to have Simon Pegg (a friend of Tennant's, and cast member of the new Star Trek movies), it seems as if the idea at least had some potential. It's only a brief mention, but it's certainly an attention grabber, innit? :)

The Great Aunt Catherine Debates #3 : The Rest is Words, Words, Words

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 07:43:52 PST

Last one in a series.

When I was at my aunt's funeral service and the priest mentioned William Shakespeare, I had no idea what he was going to say next. There's so much to choose from!

And with that, here's my question. You're attending the service of a family member. Let's say that you weren't terribly close to this person, not something where you're going to be overwhelmingly distraught. More one of those "obligations we all have to do" sorts of things. As a niece or a nephew or what have you, you're asked to say a few words. You want to bring some Shakespeare into it.

What do you bring?

The grief speech from King John is pretty powerful ("Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,...") but it's also not terribly general purpose. It's pretty clearly a parent-child thing.

I'm a fan of sonnet 104 ("To me, fair Friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eyed
Such seems your beauty still.") At least that opening passage. I think it's a pretty wonderful picture to paint, especially if you're talking about someone who's lived a long life and left many memories.

What else you got? I'd stay away from most of the Hamlet stuff, it's just gotten so cliched. Well, except one that I've come to cherish as my own personal meditation over those we've lost.

Rest in Peace, Aunt Catherine. Flights of Angels sing thee to thy rest.

The Great Aunt Catherine Debates #2 : Sanctity of Context

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 07:34:07 PST

Continuing our series, here's question #2. To recap, the priest took the liberty of pulling Antony's "The evil that men do lives after them..." quote to offer up a sermon on the truth that the good you do really does matter, and that you should strive to have a good life because it really will live after you. I got his point, I think people appreciated the sermon, I'm not one to be trivial (not matter how much it grates on me when somebody says "Shakespeare was wrong." Even if you are a priest I will take you down.)

So the question is this - how do you feel about that? The "grab a quote and then make it mean what you want it to mean" thing, even if it turns out that you are drastically misinterpreting its original intent? I've seen people rant and rave about overuse of Polonius' "To thine own self be true" advice.

On the one hand I appreciate the exposure to Shakespeare. There's no doubt that people in that audience had never heard that quote, and got a quick lesson. The problem of course is that the lesson may have left them with a misunderstanding of Shakespeare that who knows what it will take to correct.

Where do you draw the line? How much of a purist are you about that sort of thing?

I'm torn. Obviously I'm documenting my experience pretty heavily here, but it's not like I felt obligated to gather everybody up and give them a lesson in Julius Caesar. Honestly I just don't think anybody left the service thinking about Shakespeare. They were thinking about what the priest said about living a good life. And I'm ok with that. If I'd heard anybody muttering about "Wow, Shakespeare was stupid" or "I can't believe Shakespeare wrote something ridiculous like that," then I might well have stepped in.

The Great Aunt Catherine Debates #1 : What Did Antony Mean?

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 07:25:28 PST

As I mentioned here, the funeral service for my great aunt Catherine brought up a number of Shakespeare questions. The priest read Antony's line about "The evil that men do lives after them, the good is oft interred with their bones," and then went on to explain how Shakespeare was wrong, how you should strive to do good in your life because your good deeds will outlive you.

My question to you is, how would you "correct" this interpretation of the line? Why did Shakespeare have Antony say it? Imagine you've just bumped into somebody who was at that service (my aunt's, not Caesar's), who'd never heard this line before and now thinks that "Shakespeare was wrong." What would you say to correct this person's understanding of the passage, in context?

For example I tried to explain to my wife about the complexity of Antony's situation at that particular moment. He's been given permission to speak at Caesar's funeral by the guys that killed Caesar in the first place. It's not like he can get up there and say that Caesar was an awesome guy and it's a shame he died. He has to at least pretend that he agrees with them that Caesar was a bad dude.

So Let It Be With Great Aunt Catherine?

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 06:50:23 PST

So over the holidays a family member passed away, and my wife and I drove down to attend the funeral. She was elderly and in failing health, so this was not a surprise.

I wasn't prepared for the Shakespeare sermon. When the priest said, "A long time ago, a man named William Shakespeare wrote...." and more than a few heads turned and looked at me :). I perked up, curious. Which Shakespeare would he be going with?

He continued, "Marc Antony spoke these words over the body of Julius Caesar..." Really? "The evil that men do lives after them, the good is oft interred with their bones. So let it be with Caesar." That's different. Great Aunt Catherine was not an assassinated potential dictator, after all. At least, that I know of.

He then went on to focus his sermon on how Shakespeare was wrong, and how the good that you do in your life does live after you, and it's the bad stuff that should be put to rest.

I get his point. He spotted a line that gave him a launching point for what he wanted to say, and he snipped it out of context. No matter how much the words "Shakespeare was wrong" grate on me, I'm not going to debate with the priest on what Antony's true feelings were toward Caesar.

That's what this forum is for. :)

I have at least three different questions coming out of that service, and I think it's only fair to post them separately so that conversations don't all stomp all over each other. Look for posts to follow shortly.

Juggling Sonnets

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 06:51:37 PST

Tough day yesterday all around.

I have a habit at my day job of wandering around and juggling when I need to get up from the desk. So I did so, wandering over to a coworker's desk as I often do.

"I've seen that trick," she says. "I feel like you should sing or something while you do that, step up the difficulty."

"Why would you want to hear me sing? You've not wronged me in any way, I wouldn't want to subject you to that," I reply.

"Then quote Shakespeare or something."

I'd like to think that I missed no beats before replying, "When it disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state. And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries and look upon myself and curse my fate...," all while still juggling.

"What does bootless mean?" she asks.

"Umm....ah....hmmm..."

"I can't believe I picked up on the one word you don't know the definition for. I'm disappointed."

And with that, my Shakespeare cred took quite the hit and I looked stupid.

But, damnit, isn't it missing the point to pick out an individual word and say "Quick! define this out of context!" I'm not even sure what the right answer is to that. Bootless cries means what, exactly - "my cries that have nothing behind them"? "My cries that go unheard"? She wasn't asking for a translation of the text I'd just spoken, she zeroes in on one word. Besides, isn't that what the "deaf heaven" part is for? (The best translation that I've found says that I could have said "useless." Bootless cries are useless cries, because heaven's not listening.)

Between losing that cred with my coworkers, and learning that I won't get to teach the kids, it wasn't a great day I tell ya.

And.....Cancelled.

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 13:25:58 PST

Just got the phone call that the school principal (who is most definitely NOT my pal) got wind of our Shakespeare project, decided that he too was uncomfortable with the potential content, and that since it is not part of the state curriculum, in short, we can't do it. Period.

Since my kids have to actually spend a few years in this school system I will limit my opinions on the subject, but I'm sure you all can gather what they may be.

I want to thank everybody who came flocking to my rescue, flooding me with no end of resources on how we might be able to make it work. We all know that the subject can be taught at this level, many of you have experience doing exactly that. And we all know that it is a *good* and *positive* thing. I just happen to have hit a dead end this time.

I'm temporarily down, but I'm very much not out. Watch this space for future efforts to climb back up that hill.

Going Down In Flames! Help!

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 18:35:10 PST

My teaching debut gets more bowdlerized by the minute! I tried pitching a simplified version of the Mechanicals, and even still I was told "words like 'lover' and 'killed' are not acceptable, unless we had permission slips from all the parents." If you can't have Bottom kill himself, what's the point?

At this rate, there's pretty much no performance that we can do from Midsummer. I'm losing faith in this project rapidly.
With just a week to go before showtime, I don't even want to attempt getting a different play cleared, I just have to pitch the whole idea of doing any acting out of the text.

I really and truly don't want to just lecture on the subject, that will be so boring. I have some puzzles that I can give the kids as takeaways to do on their own, but I desperately need some interactive material or games that we can play. Help!

Of Shakespeare and Giant Intelligent Squid

noreply@blogger.com (Duane Morin) — Tue, 13 Dec 2011 13:37:58 PST

On a recent episode of Science Friday that had the story of the scientist who claims to have found evidence of the mythical Kraken. His evidence is patterns found in a "midden", an undersea pile of bones. He argues that a creature of some intelligence organized the bones into patterns on purpose.

Debunkers of his evidence point to that bit of our brains that likes to find patterns in things. When you see a cloud that looks like a kitty, it's not because some magical being in charge of clouds shaped it like a kitty on purpose, it's simply because that particular random combination of particles made your brain think, "Kitty!" It is exactly the same as playing the lottery, watching "1 2 3 4 5 6" come out, and thinking, "Wow! What are the odds?!" Exactly the same as the numbers coming out 35 17 3 4 22 30, actually. We just don't attach any significance to that sequence like we do to the other one.

What's this got to do with Shakespeare? Well, what if everything that we've read into Shakespeare's work over the centuries is just that - stuff that we've read into it, rather than stuff that he deliberately put there? What if he was just a guy who was just cranking out whatever got him paid, and he really and truly had no insight into human nature at all?

I often wonder about that. It's a pretty safe bet that Shakespeare never sat at his quill and thought, "If I write this, people will still be talking about it four hundred years from now." But it's also unlikely that if he was just churning out the first thing that came to his mind that we *would* be talking about him 400 years later. So the answer is somewhere in the middle. But at which end?