Denmark's a Prison Flyer

DEATH AND INNOCENCE

YOU ARE KEEN MY LORD

IT IS NOT MADNESS

BASE USES

QUITE CHAPFALL'N

ARE YOU HONEST?

HAMLET
Ha, ha! are you honest?
OPHELIA
My lord?
HAMLET
Are you fair?
OPHELIA
What means your lordship?
HAMLET
That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should
admit no discourse to your beauty.
OPHELIA
Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than
with honesty?
HAMLET
Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner
transform honesty from what it is to a bawd than the
force of honesty can translate beauty into his
likeness: this was sometime a paradox, but now the
time gives it proof. I did love you once.
OPHELIA
Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so.
HAMLET
You should not have believed me; for virtue cannot
so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of
it: I loved you not.
OPHELIA
I was the more deceived.
HAMLET
Get thee to a nunnery: why wouldst thou be a
breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest;
but yet I could accuse me of such things that it
were better my mother had not borne me: I am very
proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at
my beck than I have thoughts to put them in,
imagination to give them shape, or time to act them
in. What should such fellows as I do crawling
between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves,
all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery.

TOYS OF DESPERATION

What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord, Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff
That beetles o'er his base into the sea,
And there assume some other horrible form,


Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason
And draw you into madness? think of it:
The very place puts toys of desperation,
Without more motive, into every brain
That looks so many fathoms to the sea
And hears it roar beneath.

suggestive and beautiful words
words that draw your mind down into the spiral with Hamlet
you can see the abyss which might deprive you of your sovereigty of reason
and draw you into madness
there are also many situations in Hamlet where it might be said
the very place puts toys of desperation into every brain that looks so many fathoms to the sea and hears it roar beneath

I, OF LADIES MOST DEJECT AND WRETCHED

STRAIT JACKET BALLET

They set the scene with a strait jacket ballet. After they finish, the dumb show summarizing the piece follows.

Through wild, slashing motions, dancers dressed in strait jackets demonstrate suffering, madness, futility. They search desperately for escape or relief, but finding none, they eventually collapse in various positions around the stage. Finally, as they remain strewn over the stage, the King and Queen enter very lovingly. They kiss and caress and enjoy themselves deeply. After a few moments together, she kisses him and leaves him. The King lies down on a bench and falls asleep.

"Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his crown, kisses it, and pours poison in the King's ears, and exit. The Queen returns; finds the King dead, and makes passionate action. The Poisoner, with some two or three Mutes, comes in again, seeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The Poisoner woos the Queen with gifts: she seems loath and unwilling awhile, but in the end accepts his love."

THEY WITHERED ALL

Her once beautiful nude body now stretched out on an autopsy table. Her eviscerated flesh sewn back together. A sadly poetic aura surrounds her tragic death. As women we are especially vulnerable to self destructive behavior which has its roots in the sense of shame. Because we are sometimes ashamed of the simple fact of being women! We can feel shame about our bodies"I'm not pretty enough, or thin enough." "My body is dirty because of my sexuality." Shame of competence"I'm stupid." "If I try I'll mess it up." "Some things I'll never be good at; I'm just a female. Shame in relationships "How can I expect anybody to like me, I'm such a witch!" "People think I'm foolish when I try to say anything." "Who could love me, I'm so awful?"

A fascination for torn things and ripped things. Things that are falling off and not quite covering what they are supposed to cover. Lipstick or eye shadow not correctly applied or lipstick smeared or mascara running. Everything that suggests sadness, madness or any form of self-hatred attracts me endlessly. Watching catastrophes unfold is my primary hobby. Watching people who want to caress  themselves with roses and writhe among the thorns.

THRICE BLASTED, THRICE INFECTED

LUCIANUS

Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing; Confederate season, else no creature seeing; Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected, With Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected, Thy natural magic and dire property, On wholesome life usurp immediately.

HOUSES THAT LAST TILL DOOMSDAY

EXT. GRAVEYARD - NIGHT


SECOND GRAVEDIGGER
Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a carpenter?'

FIRST GRAVEDIGGER
Ay, tell me that.

SECOND GRAVEDIGGER
Marry, now I can tell.

FIRST GRAVEDIGGER
To't.


SECOND GRAVEDIGGER
Mass, I cannot tell.

FIRST GRAVEDIGGER
Cudgel thy brains no more about it. When you are asked this question next, say a grave-maker: the houses that he makes last till doomsday.

TO GERTRUDE

In the middle of strange passions and dark, dirty thoughts and nothing can keep you out of those. Words and energy that probably should be used for other, more productive purposes. Passions that could go into fulfilling some ambition or reaching toward some goal but it's derailed by thoughts of raw, intimate sensuality. It almost feels like it would be better to cry in your arms than to achieve some supposed goal that has no real value anyway. What really could ever have more value than to bring flesh so close that it goes beyond flesh? What is more purposeful than achieving the kind of intimacy that makes one soft breath between two soft pairs of lips and two melting pairs of eyes? What is more purposeful than touching each other so delicately as to achieve states of mind that disintegrate flesh?  What is this use of time that's supposedly better than having you on your knees looking up at me and letting me see the insanity of your need? I don't know the real value of anything on this earth, but I know what I feel and what I remember. One of the only pleasures of getting older. The glory of remembering. Of being able to savor memories. Of being surprised by what remains in the memory. And so much of what remains is you. You in glimpses, smells, smiles, cute moments of loving your pets, powerful moments of letting me see how deep your passions really lie. "All small forgotten things that once meant you" Still flinging words into a void never knowing if they will be read, understood or valued in any way. But you have to permit that paranoia. It's the musical accompaniment to a powerful personality. Always playing softly in the background when it's not being blared by screeching horns. That doubt is sweet and sick and bitter and hateful and absolutely, utterly unbearable, but it is essential.

LOVE CLAUDIUS

ENTER OPHELIA MAD

INT. OPHELIA’S ROOM – NIGHT

Ophelia sits on her chair making garlands of flowers. Her hands bleed from handling thorns. She is now wearing the wedding dress from the previous scene with Hamlet. It is still torn and hangs over her shoulder almost revealing her breast. Her make-up is overdone and grotesque. Her lipstick and mascara are smeared but she looks very calm. The trees outside her window have pushed through the bars and her books are scattered including the picture book which lies open. The dolls are now mostly cut open and piled randomly like corpses on the shelf. Flowers are strewn over the table and the entire floor. She is talking to herself.

OPHELIA
I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another. I’ll give thee this plague for thy dowry. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hath made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages. Wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them. (Sings) At his head a grass green turf, at his heels a stone.

INT. OPHELIA’S ROOM – NIGHT

Ophelia sits on her chair making garlands of flowers. Her hands bleed from handling thorns. She is now wearing the wedding dress from the previous scene with Hamlet. It is still torn and hangs over her shoulder almost revealing her breast. Her make-up is overdone and grotesque. Her lipstick and mascara are smeared but she looks very calm. The trees outside her window have pushed through the bars and her books are scattered including the picture book which lies open. The dolls are now mostly cut open and piled randomly like corpses on the shelf. Flowers are strewn over the table and the entire floor. She is talking to herself.

OPHELIA
I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another. I’ll give thee this plague for thy dowry. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hath made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages. Wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them. (Sings) At his head a grass green turf, at his heels a stone.

INT. OPHELIA’S ROOM – NIGHT

Ophelia sits on her chair making garlands of flowers. Her hands bleed from handling thorns. She is now wearing the wedding dress from the previous scene with Hamlet. It is still torn and hangs over her shoulder almost revealing her breast. Her make-up is overdone and grotesque. Her lipstick and mascara are smeared but she looks very calm. The trees outside her window have pushed through the bars and her books are scattered including the picture book which lies open. The dolls are now mostly cut open and piled randomly like corpses on the shelf. Flowers are strewn over the table and the entire floor. She is talking to herself.

OPHELIA
I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another. I’ll give thee this plague for thy dowry. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hath made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages. Wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them. (Sings) At his head a grass green turf, at his heels a stone.

INT. OPHELIA’S ROOM – NIGHT

Ophelia sits on her chair making garlands of flowers. Her hands bleed from handling thorns. She is now wearing the wedding dress from the previous scene with Hamlet. It is still torn and hangs over her shoulder almost revealing her breast. Her make-up is overdone and grotesque. Her lipstick and mascara are smeared but she looks very calm. The trees outside her window have pushed through the bars and her books are scattered including the picture book which lies open. The dolls are now mostly cut open and piled randomly like corpses on the shelf. Flowers are strewn over the table and the entire floor. She is talking to herself.

OPHELIA
I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another. I’ll give thee this plague for thy dowry. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hath made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages. Wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them. (Sings) At his head a grass green turf, at his heels a stone.

INT. OPHELIA’S ROOM – NIGHT

Ophelia sits on her chair making garlands of flowers. Her hands bleed from handling thorns. She is now wearing the wedding dress from the previous scene with Hamlet. It is still torn and hangs over her shoulder almost revealing her breast. Her make-up is overdone and grotesque. Her lipstick and mascara are smeared but she looks very calm. The trees outside her window have pushed through the bars and her books are scattered including the picture book which lies open. The dolls are now mostly cut open and piled randomly like corpses on the shelf. Flowers are strewn over the table and the entire floor. She is talking to herself.

OPHELIA
I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another. I’ll give thee this plague for thy dowry. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hath made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages. Wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them. (Sings) At his head a grass green turf, at his heels a stone.

INT. OPHELIA’S ROOM – NIGHT

Ophelia sits on her chair making garlands of flowers. Her hands bleed from handling thorns. She is now wearing the wedding dress from the previous scene with Hamlet. It is still torn and hangs over her shoulder almost revealing her breast. Her make-up is overdone and grotesque. Her lipstick and mascara are smeared but she looks very calm. The trees outside her window have pushed through the bars and her books are scattered including the picture book which lies open. The dolls are now mostly cut open and piled randomly like corpses on the shelf. Flowers are strewn over the table and the entire floor. She is talking to herself.

OPHELIA
I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another. I’ll give thee this plague for thy dowry. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hath made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages. Wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them. (Sings) At his head a grass green turf, at his heels a stone.

PROVIDENCE IN THE FALL OF A SPARROW

Matthew 10:26-33 (King James Version)

 26Fear them not therefore: for there is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed; and hid, that shall not be known.

 27What I tell you in darkness, that speak ye in light: and what ye hear in the ear, that preach ye upon the housetops.

 28And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.

 29Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.

 30But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.

 31Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows.

 32Whosoever therefore shall confess me before men, him will I confess also before my Father which is in heaven.

 33But whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven.


HAMLET
There is special providence inthe fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to
come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come—the
readiness is all. Since no man, of aught he leaves, knows what is't
to leave betimes, let be.


USA TODAY 11/14/2005

Sparrow knocks over 23,000 dominoes before being shot
AMSTERDAM, Netherlands (AP) — A sparrow knocked over 23,000 dominoes in the Netherlands, nearly ruining a world record attempt before it was shot to death Monday, the state news agency reported.

The unfortunate bird flew through an open window at an exposition center in the northern city of Leeuwarden where employees of television company Endemol NV have worked for weeks setting up more than 4 million dominoes in an attempt to break the official Guinness World Record for falling dominoes on Friday night.

Only a system of 750 built-in gaps in the chain prevented the bird from knocking most or all of the dominoes over ahead of schedule, "Domino Day" organizers were quoted as saying by the NOS news agency.

The bird was shot by an exterminator with an air rifle while cowering in a corner.

The organizers are out to break their own record of 3,992,397 dominoes set last year with a record of 4,321,000.

This story raised a simple question for me. Was this dominoes record worth the life of a bird? My answer was definitely "No". These people were so short-sighted and caught up in this childishly trivial "record" they were seeking that they actually destroyed an animal to protect it. Actually, a lot of people found this story very distasteful and a lot of criticism rained down on the guy who shot the bird and the whole group because for a lot of people,

"The sparrow was killed by an exterminator with an air rifle on Monday after it knocked down 23,000 dominoes. The killing was seen by many as an overreaction, and angered animal rights and bird protection groups." AP 11/22/10

Of course they got the record

There is just something sad in this story. Of course it involves lots of overreaction and media-fueled anger, but it brought a sadness to that line in Hamlet that will always remain with me.

THERE IS A WILLOW

QUEEN GERTRUDE

There is a willow grows aslant a brook, That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream; There with fantastic garlands did she come Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples That liberal shepherds give a grosser name, But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them: There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke; When down her weedy trophies and herself Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide; And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up: Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes; As one incapable of her own distress, Or like a creature native and indued Unto that element: but long it could not be Till that her garments, heavy with their drink, Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay To muddy death.

WHO SHOULD SCAPE WHIPPING?

Is there any more bitter or forgiving line than this is all of literature? Treat every person as they deserve and everybody would deserve a beating. What a plain, direct, honest view of human nature. Yet, Hamlet suggests that we should treat people as we want to be treated (Use them after your own honor and dignity. The less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty.) Even if you accept in a very Walter Kaufmann kind of way that Shakespeare was no Christian, this is absolutely a Christian idea. Whatever else he may have thought about the words and ideas of Jesus, Shakespeare clearly expresses such Christian ideas as "Do unto others" and "Who has been forgiven little, loves little".He seems to have a deep sympathy for human beings at least as he expresses it through Hamlet.

DENMARK'S A PRISON

HAMLET

In the secret parts of Fortune? O! most true! she is a strumpet. What news ?

ROSENCRANTZ

None, my lord, but that the world's grown honest.

HAMLET

Then is doomsday near! But your news is not true. Let me question more in particular. What have you, my good friends, deserved at the hands of Fortune that she sends you to prison hither?

GUILDENSTERN

Prison, my lord?

HAMLET

Denmark's a prison.

ROSENCRANTZ

Then is the world one.

HAMLET

A goodly one; in which there are many confines, wards, and dungeons, Denmark being one o' th' worst.

ROSENCRANTZ

We think not so, my lord.

HAMLET

Why, then 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either Good or bad but thinking makes it so. To me it is a prison.

ROSENCRANTZ

Why, then your ambition makes it one. 'Tis too narrow for Your mind.

HAMLET

O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.

GUILDENSTERN

Which dreams indeed are ambition; for the very substance of ambition is merely the shadow of a dream.