Alright, this process of getting my blog started up is more confusing than I thought. Being a web designer (or possibly from just being me), I have this incredible need to have everything in the perfect place. When I created the blog, after I posted the first entry, I immediately went to work and looked at the back-end structure that creates all the visual elements on the page. This template I have right now is made by Douglas Bowman, a really excellent web designer – however, I’m assuming that because of the limitations imposed on him by Blogger, he had to make some revisions to his usual process. All the CSS styles (the things that create all the nifty little boxes and such on the page here) are inline, and the code is really messy. So I’ve been hard at work making it all neat, just how I like it, and making some nice revisions; for example, I made the page a lot wider than the template had it because I just thought it was a waste of a lot of space.
But anyways, onto more important stuff. This thing’s always going to be a work in progress. But I was reading about this cool sort of contest thing or something for National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo for short. They’ve got a sort of spin-off here at Blogger called NaNoBlogMo, where you have to write 50,000 words in 30 days in a novel/blog. I’m not quite sure I’m ready to do that sort of a thing; I’ve got a job, school, and somewhat of a social life; I don’t have time to sit down every day and write a chapter of a novel. However, I may just start to create a nice novel sort of thing in here, posting chapters every once in a while as I finish them. I like writing. It calms me down and helps me explore my vast imagination. Any chance I get to write excites me. Dare I say that I even enjoy writing book reports and essays in English? Maybe I wouldn’t go that far. But it sure beats reading Shakespeare novels, which might as well be written in Greek. I mean, why are we still reading these things after he’s been dead for 400 years? I suppose I shouldn’t discount them just because they’re old, but everyone always ends up dead at the end of his books. Did this guy have some sadistic obsession with murder, bloody knives, and swordfights? And let’s not forget the character of Macbeth. Oh, I can’t even begin to explain mighty Macbeth’s mind. This guy meets up with these three ugly, hideous old women that tell him he’s going to be king. He then believes them, commits murder of the king because of them, and then, even when he’s reached kingship, goes back to them for advice. I mean, is this guy an idiot or just stupid? Why would you trust a woman who has warts all over her face and looks like a bum on the street? Wait – why would you trust a woman to begin with?
Let’s also not forget all the other characters in Shakespeare’s plays. First off, Lady Macbeth is lying on her bed saying things like “unsex me.” First off, how would one go about getting “unsexed” in the late 1600s? And secondly, why would you want to? Ah, yes, and let’s not forget good ol’ Billy Shakespeare’s riveting novel, Romeo and Juliet, in which a guy and a girl (who’s just turned 14 if I remember correctly) fall in love and get married within a couple days, and then after a couple more days are dead and laying in a cemetery. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t kill myself over a girl I just met four days earlier. And I wouldn’t have married her either.
Let’s also examine the wonderful character of Shylock in the Merchant of Venice. This guy is so obsessed with killing the other dude (can’t remember his name) that he sets up some bogus little contract thing talking about a pound of flesh, blah blah blah. First off, why would Shakespeare create a character so sadistic, and yet have him stupid enough to have their court case examined by a judge whom he’s never seen before, without even another legal representative there? If I were trying to kill a guy legally, I’d make sure that the judge was an actual judge, not just a woman dressed up as a man dressed up as a judge, and that there was actual legal authority of that court to exact justice. Yeah, let’s just trust the feminine guy over there with the fake moustache.
So let me sum this all up by saying that the characters in Shakespeare’s plays range from delusional to psychotic, from sadistic to just plain stupid. Therefore, if we make a generalization that authors create novels from a world in which they are aware of, we may make the assumption that Shakespeare was delusional, psychotic, sadistic, and stupid. So why is this guy heralded as the greatest author of all time? If I created some weird book where two losers got married and then killed themselves, would I become famous? And why are English class curriculums all over the place littered with this trash? Perhaps something entitled How to Kill Someone Using Only a Chainsaw would be more appropriate.
Anyways, I’ve gone off on a tangent, so I’ll end this off. Besides, I’ve got some English homework to do…