And so my blog name becomes obsolete, for I have attained a new job that is absolutely not literary in any sense, unless I were to describe my day in high and flowery language. So I suppose I’ll be doing that, since what I do now is really quite boring in specifics.
For lo, at the stroke of ten, I was embroiled in the intricacies of that most pervasive network called Taleo, and forsooth I did move a candidate from one status to another and extended unto him a message of wondrous good tidings. And then indeed did I inquire of a third party network that they behold the works of his past against the record that he had pronounced himself. And then yet again did I make an overture to this individual in quest of his domestic location so as to find the closest place wherein his hairs might be drawn to ensure that he had held fast against any naughty contraband of narcotic effect.
And this is what I do now.
But for those of you who actually read this- fear not, for I continue upon my quest for Revenge (tragedy).
The book I’m reading now agrees with me about how Kyd must have been smoking something (speaking of naughty contraband of narcotic effect). I mean basically, it (The Spanish Tragedy) starts with Don Andrea being all, “So, I’m dead. I got killed in battle and it was unpleasant. And then the underworld was scary. And now I’m here with Revenge. Say hi!” Don Andrea got killed in battle, therefore, no revenge is necessary. And then Don Andrea’s girlfriend takes up with Don Andrea’s friend Horatio, and then he gets killed, and becomes all about him and wtf I thought revenge tragedies were about injustices that happened before the show begins and Hieronimo is really really batshit. Oh and Lorenzo is Machiavelli’s perfect man. That’s what Bowers is saying anyway.
There is so much yet to read.
literaryshoptalk 