(no subject)

[proximoception]

Hamlet is fucking great. The encrustation of half-remembered prior reactions was thick at first, especially around the soliloquies, scaled gradually off until toward the end I remembered but didn't know what would happen next.

And this is the funnest simile imaginable:

Rosencrantz [flattering what must look like paranoia in Claudius, who knows Hamlet killed Polonius meaning to kill him instead]:

The single and peculiar life is bound,
With all the strength and armor of the mind,
To keep itself from noyance, but much more
That spirit, upon whose weal depends and rests
The lives of many. The cess of majesty
Dies not alone; but like a gulf doth draw
What's near it with it. It is a massy wheel
Fixed on the summit of the highest mount,
To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things
Are mortised and adjoined; which when it falls
Each small annexment, petty consequence,
Attends the boist'rous ruin. Never alone
Did the king sigh, but with a general groan.

A boist'rous ruin indeed! I must have noticed this before. How does one continually manage to forget the unforgettable?