Monday, 16 November 2009

Mick Shakespeare

Shakespeare is Mick Jagger.

Bear with me.

No, seriously, there's a bear with me... it's mauling my face... oh christ... no, not really, I'm just kidding. My theory is that Shakespeare was the Mick Jagger of his time. He was young (for 30 years or so), rich and famous. Oh, and he was a slag.

Christopher Marlowe, on the other hand, was Jeff Buckley. He arguably and comparably had more talent, but died too young to get very much done. Shakespeare was all crotch-thrusting and no Faustus.

This is, of course, my idea that I thought of at 2:53 in the morning. I'm not as yet sure whether it was more of a thought, or an excuse to look at Jagger's effing disgustingly beautiful face*. Having written about 3000 words of my nanowrimo, my brain feels like it's filled with scrunched up bits of newspaper, except there are no words on this newspaper - there's no words whatsoever in my brain anymore. They've all been typed out and are now a nonsensical pulp on a secondary school toilet ceiling.

My brain is The Sun and Shakespeare is my page 3.

*This statement is subject to being in the 1960s. You would not believe how difficult it is to find a picture of Mick Jagger where he doesn't look off his face on drugs. I've settled for one where he looks like a tool.

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