11 April 2013

Congee (good texture, HOT) and Act 2 of the 1608 version of King Lear. Lear is recognizing he’s f–d at warp speed as is his fool. After Regan confirms that she’s with Goneril, and that neither daughter recognizes the father’s right to even one follower, Lear goes into the storm.

Having read this, when last September my need to see my grand-daughters was denied, I knew that an explosion would be futile so I stayed “cool”, where “cool” was original reaction of the urban black man rejected as a father, in order to avoid a response to his rage, no matter how well-justified, in the form of an ass-whup by the cops.

cf Chris Rock, “How to Not Get Your Ass Kicked by the Police” because the urban white male who fails to consciously identify with white values including silence and acceptance of humiliation becomes the black man as far as society is concerned, especially if he has a rebellious wife.

But this is for me by now a very old story and my cancer means reconciling with family members really at all costs, and if that is not possible, as it isn’t in the case of my son at this time, not adding to our mutual wounds! So at my eldest son’s funeral I exercised self-control and did not act like King Lear.

HolzerAs a decrepit father takes delight
To see his active child do deeds of youth,
So I, made lame by fortune’s dearest spite,
Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.
For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,
Or any of these all, or all, or more,
Entitled in thy parts do crowned sit,
I make my love engrafted to this store:
So then I am not lame, poor, nor despised,
Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give
That I in thy abundance am sufficed
And by a part of all thy glory live.
Look, what is best, that best I wish in thee:
This wish I have; then ten times happy me!

Shakespeare Sonnet 37


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