Week five of comforts and shenanigans.
Mentally, I’m here, on a path I didn’t have time to explore — a journey in wait.
I had strolled for miles on a certain path. It was lovely with beautiful scenery and I wouldn’t change anything about the journey. But then I stumbled upon this place, this path, a secluded path that hasn’t been explored by anyone I know. I’m anxious to discover what awaits.
“I think William Shakespeare was the wisest human being I ever heard of. To be perfectly frank, though, that’s not saying much. We are impossibly conceited animals, and actually dumb as heck. Ask any teacher. You don’t even have to ask a teacher. Ask anybody. Dogs and cats are smarter than we are.”
—Eugene Debs Hartke, Hocus Pocus, Kurt Vonnegut
Eugene Debs Hartke was a professor before becoming an inmate, so I believe him.
Is Shakespeare a fraud? Do you think he wrote his own plays?
There’s the Baconian theory: Sir Francis Bacon was a wizard at ciphers and clues, so rumor is he alluded to being the true author within mystical encryptions.
There’s the Marlovian theory: Christopher Marlowe had stylistic similarities.
There’s the Oxfordian theory: the 17th Earl of Oxford, Edward de Vere is suggested as being the true author, but his death date doesn’t line up with the work.
Anyway, I have my doubts.
Physically, technically, I’m here, in a van, at work, and the gnomes on these socks I stole from my wife this morning are a constant reminder that summer is almost over.
So, in the meantime, you couldn’t smack the smile off of my face. Only the 115 heat can.
I like discovering songs about Jennifers.
“Leave the Bourbon on the Shelf” - The Killers (spotify | youtube)
Of all the reading i've done this morning, yours is my favorite - a breath of much needed reinvigorating air.