By Margaret Hedderman… Oh, and he hates you too.
Screw it. Forget “The Scottish Play” and just spit it out. Macbeth. Macbeth. Macbeth. We’re cursed anyway. All our pathetic attempts at literary genius are a complete mockery after Shakespeare. There’s no point being a writer these days – Shakespeare loaded the table of scholarly wisdom and then brought second helpings just to be a smart arse. Why, you may ask, would any person do this to mankind? Because of an intense desire to mock all subsequent generations of writers – that’s why. Urchins most of all.
He jabs, mercilessly, at our self-esteem with his long-winded, highfalutin, pretentious implementation of the Early Modern English language. None of my Urchinistic friends can get away with making up words and assuming they will naturally be added to the dictionary. Any person of normal expectations would be sent to Remedial English for “coining” a word like “foppish.”  Apparently, the English language just wasn’t good enough for dear old Will.
He just has to go and poke fun at us with phrases like “Fierce fiery warriors fight upon the clouds.” Don’t get me wrong, I am a zany zealot for alliteration, but that is just unnecessarily good. Frankly, it’s depressing. How can anyone attempt to place two words side by side and hope for anything half as brilliant as “summer’s ripening breath”? Who thinks of that? It’s sick. And it makes me want to vomit all over the First Folio. Shakespeare is sitting on his magical isle somewhere, playing chess with Mozart and snickering at every bootless effort from the next “up and coming” author. I don’t even want to think about how he’s judging the “down and stationary.”
If Shakespeare’s arrogant wielding of language wasn’t enough, that he is capable of flaunting the inadequacy of words is unacceptable. We, while still struggling with fragments and run-on sentences. Shakespeare has found that language is not enough to express meaning anymore. Hamlet would have been a perfectly acceptable Mel Gibson action/adventure without any questioning or examining the power of language. Any hack Hollywood writer would be proud to have that on their IMDb résumé.
Personally, I think it is high time we take William down a notch. He has been up on that pedestal for far too long – especially for such a contradictory person. Hamlet browbeats us with the futility of language, but then what does Titus Andronicus do? Goes on and on, cuts out a girl’s tongue, for Shake’s sake, just to prove how literature speaks when our own words fail. I mean, God, it’s like, dude, I don’t even know, what the hell, jerk Shakespeare.
How can literature mean everything and language mean nothing? Perhaps… that was his point. Touché. Yet another example of Shakespearean taunting. Here, have another pedestal, William.
Maybe I am giving this too much thought. Maybe Shakespeare doesn’t have it out for writers. Maybe he knows he can get away with insulting us because writers are generally not people of action. We are intellectuals. We are Hamlets, sans the ghost of our murdered father, and could never get it together and destroy that lofty pedestal of his. Shakespeare’s place among the Gods remains safe. (I encourage y’all to unite over the internet and discuss via blogs and Facebook what to do about this situation and whether or not we should think about doing something about it.)
His contributions to man and scholarly kind are unquestionable. Shakespeare gave us new words, told us they were pointless, and then reaffirmed that language is all we have. This may be going out on a limb, but, perhaps, the greatest of all his gifts is five centuries worth of paranoid, self-loathing, failed writers. So, I want to thank you, Will, on behalf of all Urchins, for dooming us to follow in your footsteps like a pack of unweaned pups chasing after their mother. Lord knows we probably won’t make it past our puppy-teeth, but we will die trying to live up to your example.
P.S. Can I have a puppy?
 King Lear. 1.4. 59.
 Julius Caesar. 2.2. 20.
 “Zany” was coined in Love’s Labours Lost.
 Romeo & Juliet. 2.2. 127.