Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Magic Shake-Ball


Filler or Botox?


For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour,
Hold it a fashion, and a toy in blood;
A violet in the youth of primy nature,
Forward, not permanent- sweet, not lasting;
The perfume and suppliance of a minute;
No more. (Hamlet 1.3.4-8)


I love this part! Laertes, dispensing some priceless advice to his kid sister, Ophelia: Hamlet's just trying to play you, girl, so don't let him get into your pants. He's fickle--just like your youth and beauty, OK? 

But see, that's exactly it, Shake-Ball! In the modern age of aesthetic procedures, Shakespeare's hand-wringing about youth and age and withering away is kind of dated, right? Is that what you're trying to tell me? 

Or are you saying that people (like Laertes) are going to make obnoxious age comments no matter what? Are you just mocking me? I'm sure you're not mocking me, Shake-Ball. Because that would be mean. And super bitchy. 

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