William Shakespeare Hates You

I hate Shakespeare. Yeah, I fucking said it. You know who the only people who like his work are? Educated old British people and left wing college students who say they love his plays just to sound intelligent, but just like the rest of us they can't understand what the fuck is going on.

My first foray into the wonderful world of William Shakespeare, or as I like to call it, hell, was, like many a school student, Romeo and Juliet. Besides Romeo and Juliet being retards, the thing I couldn't stand about this play was, like every Shakespeare written piece that I would later read, the dialogue. Okay, they talked like that back then, and they must have all been idiots. Statements that could be made in three words or less become three fucking sentences of unecessary dialogue.

'Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals.'

What? What the fuck does that even mean? Gregory, let's not carry coal?

'Evermore weeping for your cousin's death?
What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?
An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live;
Therefore, have done: some grief shows much of love;
But much of grief shows still some want of wit..'

Your cousin's dead, stop fucking crying? Okay, you get my point. Why was Romeo so in love with some bitch he barely even truly knows that he'd kill himself when he thinks she's dead? Shakespeare was insane.

Follow up Romeo and Juliet a year later with a tale that still haunts my nightmares, Julius Caesar. Holy fuck, what a lesson in tedium. All Shakespeare 'tragedies' are the same, you can tell what's going to happen three pages in, and you always know the title character's going to die. And there's always some sort of ghost, you better be expecting some fucking ghostly apparition or similar supernatural entity, surely historically accurate. And you know what else grinds my ass? Teachers are obsessed with showing you film versions of the same shit you just had to sit through and read, so your boredom has to be duplicated onscreen.

To cap it all off, there was Macbeth. Alright, I admit, this one isn't as bad, there was actually some action, but was the shit with witches needed? Shakespeare was obsessed with adding goofy witches and ghosts to stories that have a base in reality, perhaps to improvise for him not knowing what the hell else to do. Okay, there wasn't one in Romeo and Juliet, but maybe there should have been.

Worst of all, all my teachers ended up having us read out roles in all the Shakespeare plays we read in class, and as such it took forever. Apparently no one can read, because everything anyone says is slow, methodical, and they mispronounce every other word they say. It's like being in a room with a bunch of deaf people speaking out at turns, the speech is so weird. I can just picture Shakespeare sitting back in his chair, giggling, knowing that he was dooming future generations of children to temporary narcolepsy.

In closing, I'm a big fan of Shakespeare.