On "The Great Gatsby"

Godddddddd.
So MAYBE I left the reading of TGG a little bit late.
Seeing as how it had to be read by Monday, and here I am on the Saturday before having just finished.
Well.
What can I say about TGG?
I'm fairly sure we're supposed to be comparing it with Hamlet as far as tragedies are concerned.
Hmmm.
The trad. tragedies have a system where the hero dies.
Now, lots of people did die.
Myrtle.
Gatsby.
Mr Wilson.
I don't, however, consider any of these people to be heroes.
Starting with Myrtle Wilson and her hubby.
He was a slob.
She was cheating.
Hmmmmmmmmm...
Perhaps not so much the heroes.  Plus, they didn't really have these great big moments of kind of them peaking (please, refrain from innuendos), with them being at the top of their game and wonderful.
Myrtle was average looking, bawdy and generally dull.
Her hubby was slobby, disgusting, and decided to take a gun to the man he thought killed his wife.
Trouble is, while this could be seen as this marvelous bit of heroic, he then killed himself afterwards.
Uh, no.
That is not tragic.
That's just stupid.
AND he locked his wife up in the house so that she couldn't get out.
Yeah, she'd been cheating.
But let's face it.
HE married her.

Now, for Gatsby.
Admittedly, he was at the peak of his existence at the beginning of the novel.
Big parties, lots of money, yes yes, very posh.
But he didn't have anyone to love.
Sure, he was IN love.
With a married woman he hadn't seen in five years.
Who didn't love him back.
Who was married with a wa-wa.  (Baby, for those of you not used to me talking).
So he has an affair with her.
*Facepalm*.
THAT is not heroic.
That's selfish.
If he really loved her, he'd let her go and be free with her hubby and her bubby and her money.
And yet.

So yeah, people end up dead.
But everyone ends up dead.
So how are we to sift the heroes from the average Joe's?

In English, Debating Over Whether Or Hamlet Was A Good King.

Okay, because I can't talk like I write in an essay, I'm going to put how I ACTUALLY feel right here.  Where Don won't see it (hopefully.  Seeing as how sod's law exists: HI Don! Look away NOW.  Tah :) ).
So yeah
Hamlet.
WHAT A GODDAMN POOF.
Honestly, just get your fucking sword out, you ponce.
"Oh, Uncle Claudy killed Dad!  I'ma pretend to be insane!  That'll fix the problem!"
What the actual fuck, Hamlet?
I mean seriously.
Insanity fixes NOTHING.
Idiot.


And he went and let his mum marry his uncle, and moans about it in soliloquos monologues later:
“ O God, God; How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable ; Seem to me all the uses of this world!”
Oh shut up, you great big poof.
Why the hell did you not DO something, then?


Now don't get me wrong here, people of the blog reading persuasion.
I love Shakespeare.
I do.
I'm a proper Shakespeare geek.
I read it.
I watch it.
I even acted in a couple.
It's not that it's a crap story.
Lovely story.
The CHARACTER is a useless prat, tbh.
He got his bits out in front of his girlfriend, and thought that it would help the fact that his uncle killed his dad???
SERIOUSLY???
Frankly, if I was a (male) philosophy student, I would not be getting my bits out in front of the girl I kinda wanted to marry.
Heck, if I was ANY gender of philosopher, my bits would NOT be dangling in the open.
My bits are not for all to see!!
And while he was supposed to be going doo-lally, (and this certainly helped prove THAT point) I do wonder whether or not he should really have done that.


I am still of the opinion that all stories should end with the ride-off-into-the-sunset-snogging scenario.
How would Hamlet do that, I hear you ask?
WELL.
Stab Polonius (Ophelia's dad).
Stab Laertes (Ophelia's brother).
Stab Claudius (Uncle/stepdad/king thing).
Grab a horse (and some woollens, obviously, because Denmark is really rather cold).
LEG IT, YOU SPINELESS HOOLIGAN!!!


I'm really supposed to be doing an essay, assessing whether or not Fortinbras assessment of Hamlet was any good.
PAHAHA
One word answer:  Uh, no.
Okay, two words.
Fortinbras thinks Hamlet would have made a good king.
HE KILLED HIS GIRLFRIEND'S DAD, AND NOT EVEN SO THAT HE COULD RUN OFF WITH HER.
Which would have been SLIGHTLY more understandable.
Only SLIGHTLY, but still.
All the damn same.
And then, after she's killed herself, mainly because of him (not your smartest idea, love) he jumps in her fucking grave.
GAH.


This essay thing has got a lot more bloody difficult since the last time I did it.
All my formal language has gone to shit.
Total, complete and utter shite.
Merde.
Mierda.
Tell you what, comment with your swearings in foreign languages.
All the damn same, I cannot write without ranting anymore.
I've got about half way through the required number of words, which is good.
Disgustingly, I have written more words here than I have in my essay.
*Facepalm*.


Oh Gawdddd.
Now I've written "The Formidable Fortinbras".  Ugh.  I despise myself sometimes.


Oh, by the by, Breast Cancer Day!
Yes.
Indeed.
We were supposed to all wear pink, apparently.
I did.  PURELY by accident.
No jokes.
Gah.
I hate Hamlet.




MMM Ham :)
^ Purely Katie, who blogs about Hamlet HERE.


Although, when she free-writes, it's pretty cool.
She should start her own blog a little like this.
That'd be awesome.
343 words of actual Hamlet.
If I could do 345, that'd be dead cool.  Still, never mind, ey?


Copying and pasting several bits of Hamlet into here, so that I can get them from home.
Ignore, unless you ACTUALLY care.

In my opinion, Fortinbras could not be more wrong on his assessment of Hamlet.
He claims that Hamlet would have "proved most royal" had he been given a chance. 
If you look at everything that happens within the play, there is nothing kingly about him!
The first thing Hamlet could have done that would have been royal was prevent the too-soon marriage of his mother and his uncle.  A royal may have stood up for what he believed was right (not adultery, in this case) and now, being the protector of his mother after his father's death, put his foot down and said "No!  It has only been two months since your husband, my father, died.  I demand you grieve some more!"
That would have been very royal, and many may have held him in a very high esteem.
Even if he didn't put to rest the idea of his mother's remarriage, a good, noble thing to have done would have been, having learnt of his father's murder, to have chopped Claudius' head off in vengeance (something which would have been respected and honoured in the day of the play).  Instead, he does something which seems meak and weedy, and pretends to go insane.
The author of this does not in the slightest see how madness would help in this situation.
Fortinbras must KNOW that Hamlet went mad.
So how has he come to the conclusion that Hamlet would have made a fit king?  Ridiculous.
The next thing Hamlet does that I disagree with is the fact that, whilst mad, Hamlet bares himself infront of the woman he has seduced.  That is not in the least royal, regal, noble, or however you call it.  This is humiliating for Ophelia, and not even a tiny bit dignified, which kings always seem to be.
So Hamlet is being highly unkingly now, and continues to be for the rest of the play.
In actual fact, the only good things that this author can see about Hamlet is that he does want revenge (yet goes entirely the wrong way about it), and then has a duel.
The duel is a noble thing to do.
I'm unclear as to the reason they duel.  Possibly for Laertes' father's honour, or Ophelia's honour.  But I'm not sure.  At least this part is in all fairness.
This is the only part however.
The rest of the play is spent with Hamlet dashing about the castle acting like someone out of an asylum, when he could actually be doing something useful with his time, like defending his father's honour, ending his mother's adulterous marriage, or, and this would be the best ending in my opinion, getting Ophelia's hand in marriage, forgetting the whole affair with the murder and the adultery and the throne, and taking Ophelia off to somewhere nicer, or warmer, and marrying her there, having a whole bunch of good looking babies, and being generally happy with life.
So no.  Fortinbras is NOT right in that Hamlet would have made a great king.  He was a philosopher and a pansy.

________________________________________________________________

In my opinion, Fortinbras could not be more wrong on his assessment of Hamlet.  He claims that Hamlet would have "proved most royal" had he been given a chance.  If you look at everything that happens within the play, there is nothing kingly about him!  The play begins with Hamlet bitterly infuriated by his mother’s marriage to his father’s brother only two months after the father’s death. 

This being the time of not an awful lot of female emancipation, Hamlet, as the eldest son in the family, and so the oldest male, could well have stepped in at this point and said to Gertrude “Look, Mum.  I object to your marrying of my uncle.  Why?  My dad has been dead about two months, and actually, this just makes you look callous and a bit on the easily-bedded side.  So could you possibly hold off for JUST a bit?”.  This confrontation would have made him seem manly, in control, and therefore more likely to be a marvellous king.  This is not, however, what he did.  He just let it happen, and moaned about it in soliloquies later. “ O God, God; How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable ; Seem to me all the uses of this world!”  This seems very ignoble, and rather like he’s procrastinating, or even lamenting his idiocy.

Later on in the play, Hamlet learns from his dad’s ghost that Hamlet Sr. was killed by Claudius so that Claudius could become king.  Remaining on the nobility subject, surely the correct and just thing to do would be to go off and take the head of Claudius off.  This, sadly, is not what Hamlet does.  This kingly, royal act of vengeance over his poor, dead father is dashed aside by the though of going “mad”.  It is not completely understood by this writer quite why going “insane” will be beneficial, making me question his tactics.  Any tactics that are questionable do not bode well for the heir to any throne, let alone one under siege by he of Norway, the formidable Fortinbras!

We're all talking about swans, geese, and how frightening they are.
-_-
There are photos, and white shorts turned green.
She says I don't have to take minutes on everything that she's saying, and that it's kind of creepy.
She'll live.
She's got a disgruntled expression.

Tree surgeons are apparently children killers.
ODD times.
Benny Hill and Woody the Woodpecker ???
Nyurgh.
Hopefully, soon, I can get home, and check my phone and apologise to anyone who might have called.

NEVER call drivers wankers.
Lesson for life.
Long damn story, however.
Going now, maybe.
Definately.
Scary stories :D
Tirrarrrrrr xxxxxxx

On Being Sat At The Open Evening, Dismally Bored, With 1.5 Hours To Go

Very nearly smacking my head against a table.
When those blokes come back with their pink tshirts, I am SO going to find Sarah.
Even though she's a cow.
Gah.
So unispired.
Lonelyyyyyyy
Ever so lonellyyyyyyyyy
*smack*
If I've died of boredom by the time anyone gets this, please cremate me?
Please?
I don't want to lie in a big box in the ground, getting slowly eaten by worms.  Ack.
Dear archaeologists of the future.
Sorry for not being your next biggest discovery, but try some other graveyard, 'kay?
ARGHHHHHH.
Why, why why??
Dear Harry, if you read this and I am dead, it's because you didn't pick up your phone and come see me in town while I waited.
ALL
YOUR
FAULT.

I may kill myself like THIS.
That would be dead good.
(Ba-boom-bm chssssssh).
Much prettier than hanging myself or shooting myself or poisoning myself or making like a monk and burning myself.
Flowers and shit :D
Much joy.
I rather like floating.
Haven't done it in a while.
Figured when my bum starting dragging me down into the water it was either time to stop eating cake or excercise.
I genuinely like cake better than I want a small butt.
Especially cheesecake.
PINK SHIRT BOYS ARE BACK.
Adios, biatches. xxx

On Trying To Decide What The Fuck To Do With My Life

Okay, so I'm one of those people who always has a plan of what to do with their lives.
When I was three, I had a plan to have a baby at fifteen (no joke).
At 9, I knew which GCSE's I was doing (a selection which has since changed beyond all recognition).
At eleven, I basically had a plan for my ENTIRE life, involving weddings at twenty, babies at twenty one, and just not doing uni whatsoever.
And last year, I formed a plan for the next five or six years of my life, about uni and gap years and a levels.
And now I'm not happy.
Wtf?
So, until yesterday, I thought that what I was going to do was do five A levels, plus the Extended Project Qualification, to get me that AQA Baccalaureate, and then go to uni, do English Lit, then a teaching thingummy, and then be a teacher until my witterish writing is recognised as utter genius that is worth even more money than that of J.K. Rowling, and so forth retire to my mansion to write about pirates and trains and beer until I see fit that I have enough money to sustain myself and my family in the manner we have become accustomed to for the rest of our lives.  Maybe sticking in an extra uni course or two here and there.
Yeah, alright, a little more than five or six years, but that really is the extended version.
Except, now, I'm not happy with Drama.
At all.
It's not as good as last year by far, and I think I probably really needed it to be.
I'm getting WAY stressed.
So I decided to speak to the fabulous Don, who is my tutor, and fabulous, about wtf I should be doing with my time.
He was blunt.
It's a good thing.
So, now, I'm not doing the AQA Bacc.
Why?
Bloody pointless.
You only really need three a levels.
That'll get you to uni.
Duh.
*facepalm*
But yes, so.  Now I'm not doing the AQA Bacc, I don't actually have to worry about staying on my Drama course, which would actually be bloody good.
But do I REALLY want to drop it?
I mean, acting is bloody great.
But the feeling of the place is rubbish.
Lots of nice people, little to no nice feelings, really.
I feel self concious, awkward, and utterly crap in comparison to EVERYONE else.
May just be a confidence issue.
It's entirely possible.
But now I've got this awkward thumpy feeling in my chest, because it was a HUGE relief to get the pressure of the AQA Bacc off my mind, but there's still the panic about Drama, and the assessment next week, and how I JUST DON'T WANT TO BE THERE ANYMORE.
I mean, I'll do the assessment next week, purely because I think the girl I'm working with would fucking kill me if I abandoned her, and I'll admit, she's intimidating.
So there we go.
Now I have to make a decision about Drama.
Everything is kinda telling me to bail, except this one little voice in my head that's accusing me of losing my stubborn streak.
I KNOW it's there.
It's just having a bit of a wobble.
Question:  Should I be being stubborn that I need to be happy, or that I need to get a decent college education?
Although, four A levels are still more than I need.
People will give me jobs and degrees (okay, gotta work for those too, but you know what I mean.).
I just wanted five.
See?
There it is.
The little perfectionist.
GRARGH.
I really need to get rid of that bitch, she's no good for me.
And yet, motivates to do better.
Too much better.
I am trying to do too much.
So, drop Drama and hope to God Cathy doesn't hate me??
It's a plan.
Good plan?
Who knows.