As of 2:00 February 24th I had gone since September of 2007 without failing a college exam. As of 3:30 February 24th my winning streak was over. Now I pose the question, what would Shakespeare do (WWSD)? Would he admonish me for not taking Dr. Sexson's exam seriously enough by studying at 3:00 in the A.M. prior and assuming an adequate amount of effort had been put forth? Would he tell me to buckle down or would he tell me to loosen up?
If I were to ask Bill the question, "what does it all mean?" I wonder how he would respond. I imagine he would tell me it all has something to do with loooovee. This is true, I italicized and goooglied the word love because I find it amusing. I assume Bill would tell me love is the centerpiece to a life well-lived because he seems to have invented the word and made it the focal point of every one of his plays.
"But what about the individual Bill? Are we not enough as separate beings in order to live fulfilling lives?" I would ask.
"Ahhh, but you are correct young grasshopper. It is the individual, such as myself, that shapes history. But without love, sex, and reproduction, who would be here to look back on history and sigh?"
Our philosophical conversation would progress, then digress, and then ultimately he would concluded with the following statement.
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
His final words would echo. "Last scene of all, that ends this strange eventful history, is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything..." For those who have been exposed to the French language, the word "sans" means 'without'. "Mere oblivion, without teeth, without eyes, without taste, without everything." This image of nothingness is both haunting and chilling. I would voice this thought to Bill.
"Hey, those words are beautiful but now I'm feeling both at peace and disturbed. Please delve deeper into your meaning."
"Don't sweat the small stuff Fletch, thy stage has been set and thy fate sealed."
"Ahhhh."
