Shakespeare is Dead

Oh kind Sir! Bravo!!! This shall be my first reblog in a long little while! Again, I say: “Bravo!!!!!!!!!!!11111one!


The professor was a strange man; indeed, there is little else about him upon which it can be agreed.  We might hesitate to submit that he was strange in any conventional sense—it wasn’t that his voice was too high or his stature too short or anything of the like—no, it was rather something peculiarly unrelated to any identifiable quality of himself. He was strange in a strange sense. Though upon it, it most certainly may not be agreed, this author might be so bold as to assign him the label of pedantic; for he was dreadfully preoccupied with the ‘rules of proper English’ and had an unchecked phobia of sentences that ended in prepositions bordering on the psychotic, which caused him to go to great lengths to avoid such sentences, and in turn, to produce such clausal absurdities as ‘upon which it can be agreed’ and ‘upon it, it…

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4 responses to “Shakespeare is Dead

  1. I started out in awe of the fellow’s masterful writing. Such pictures he paints in words! I could not only see the professor he wrote about but I was virtually sneezing at the dust coming off his hat! It was funny writing at it’s best.

    By the time I got 3/4 of the way through I had tears rolling down my cheeks at the beauty of the climax of the piece. This is truly something you have to read for yourself.

    Thank you, David, for finding bringing this treasure to my attention!


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