On the whole it is hard to express self love. All sorts of practices propose to teach you to do it. Some of them will suggest that you practice saying you love yourself. To say “I love myself” is sticky. All the books will tell you to do it – but it sounds funny coming out of anyone’s mouth.

“We love ourself,” though, well, that’s a different story. I think all self – help books should henceforth follow Claudius’ example and suggest “we love ourself” as a self-love mantra. It helps with the plurality of the sense of self – helps with the individualist’s sense that each one of us is a king – and features both the plural and the single. Very useful this.

A guy I only know on Facebook said that he doesn’t listen to a lot of podcasts. A whole slurry of people lined up to hate on podcasts. They said they hated listening to people talking. They didn’t like listening to things. That it was like radio and radio sucks, too.

I was stunned to read all of this. I love podcasts. I cannot stop listening. I love listening to people talk. I love listening to audio stories. I love hearing comedy. I love hearing analysis. I dig hearing intelligent conversation. And I cannot fathom feeling otherwise.

It’s all the pleasure of company with none of the responsibility. It’s the smoothest way to learn new things. It’s a way to take in ideas without requiring my full attention. That is, I can listen while I fold things or sort things. I can learn while I get dressed or make breakfast.

I have listened to dozens and dozens of podcasts and dozens and dozens of voices and will shortly hear more.

I can see why that play Claudius watched could seem like a beard shaking to him. It was absolutely designed to have that effect. It is a taunt. It is a tugging on his self respect. It is a challenge, no doubt.
This is probably not what he’s trying to tell Laertes, though – because if he explained why the play was a taunt, he’d also have to explain that he has, I don’t know, MURDERED HIS BROTHER, THE PREVIOUS KING!
But what’s weird, though – is that if he’s NOT talking about the play, then he’s talking about the murder he’s committed – the victim of which is the man he’s talking to’s father.

Which doesn’t seem like a beard shaking so much. That feels a bit insulting to the man’s father. But Claudius is somehow adept at making his way through this dangerous territory.

If only intentionality played a role in what we lost sleep over. If only we could choose whether or not to break our sleeps. If we could, we’d all get a lot more sleep.

Even when I’m losing sleep for my creative work, churning over artistic decisions and whether or not I’ve really thought that ending through, it would still be better to sleep and let those answers come in the morning. But sleep breaking doesn’t work like that. We are always helpless in its power. Sleep either comes or it doesn’t. Or it comes in fits and starts.

I mostly am a good sleeper. I can sleep and sleep and sleep. But when the sleep gods decide to break me, I am powerless and will lie awake, churning and churning, brain racing – doing nothing of consequence but NOT sleeping.

That’s the breaks.

I don’t know a lot about archery but I feel like it would be quite unusual for an arrow to turn all the way around from the bow it was shot from to end up in its shooters head. That would require quite a specific wind, a really circular situation, no matter how slightly timber’d.
I could see how maybe one might shoot one’s own foot in this situation – because at least gravity might play a part. But for an arrow to get far enough away from you and then turn 180 degrees. And then move upwards, well. That would be one shockingly focused wind. Loud, sure. But also very precise. But it is a quite lovely way to say that a plan will backfire.

What I don’t understand is why, if the public loves Hamlet so much, did they not make him King when his father died? Why is Claudius King and not Hamlet? I mean – I understand it’s a monarchy and the will of the people ain’t necessarily a factor. But they do help. And monarchies tend to hand crowns from fathers to sons, not brother to brothers. But…I’ve wondered this before and so have others.

The remarkable thing about this line is actually this spring that turns wood to stone. Apparently, this is a thing that exists. There are waters in the British Isles called petrifying wells and they make wood look like stone. No wonder these folks believed in magic. It’s like freakin’ magic but it’s a real thing. A real crazy nature thing.

I wish there were a general gender. Like rather than a world of male and female, there was just general gender and any variety within that was just that within it. Like, a general people – full of diversity but just generally people. It would be cool if gender was like that.
I’m thinking of it because of that story of the horrible orange bus driving around the country proclaiming that boys are boys and girls are girls and that’s biology. In my city, that bus was vandalized right away – to my city’s credit, I’d say. I don’t know why someone thought a bright orange bus with a hardline gender message was a good idea. But someone did.
Someone who would find general gender threatening, I imagine.

Well that’s a complicated way to say that, isn’t it, Claudius? And I suppose my question is, how much of it is true? Does Claudius really love Gertrude? That’s the first question. Conjunctive to life and soul is…not revealing necessarily. Life and soul sound convincing. But “conjunctive to” ….well, that’s political speech.
The star moving in his sphere is possibly romantic but also quite a bit removed from the subjects at hand.
Whether he does or does not love Gertrude, it still makes a fair bit of sense to frame it this way to Laertes. It’s such a complicated sentence tonally. It veers from one style of language to another. Is he trying to convince Laertes or himself?
Is this really why he hasn’t put Hamlet on trial for his crime? I’d wager the REAL reason – the one at the heart of it is that if Hamlet were put on trial, Hamlet might find it a good time to make his feelings about Claudius public. It might bring to light what Claudius is trying to keep in the dark.
But sure – it’s because he’s in love with his wife! That’s it!

Is this true? We don’t see a lot of love between Hamlet and his mother. Mostly Hamlet bullies her and rails at her. Which is not to say she wouldn’t be besotted with him anyway. Most parents love their children in profoundly unconditional ways. But we don’t see Gertrude ADORING Hamlet much. She tells him to cast his knighted color off. She talks about him to others in a fairly practical way. (“I doubt it is no other but the main. His father’s death and our o’erhasty marriage.”) And we don’t see much interaction at the play between them. The most we see them together is right after Hamlet’s killed someone right in front of her. It’s hard to work out their relationship from that.

We could take Claudius at his word here. That he’s trying to placate his queen…but I am skeptical that any of this actually has anything to do what Gertrude actually thinks or wants and everything to do with how Claudius wants to be seen by Laertes.

I love this O here at the top of this line. I mean. Usually an O has an emotional quality – like a groan or a grief or a moan or a surprise. It feels like a raw expression of emotion.

In this case, though, it feels more like a way to minimize. The way someone would say, “Oh you know, just enjoying the scenery” when asked what they’re up to. It’s so – casual almost.

The only other O I can imagine would be a sort of stalling O…an O that suggests that you need to think for a moment…maybe so you could come up with a good excuse, or a good lie. It’s certainly not the O of a lover or a wounded man.