In people-who-need-to-go-away news, the alleged Shakespeare thief appears to be milking his fifteen minutes for all that they are worth. As mentioned in a previous blog, amateur collector Raymond Scott was arrested on suspicion of having stolen a copy of the First Folio from a university a decade ago. While he has maintained his innocence throughout, he does not seem to be bothered by the notoriety it is offering him. In fact, the media’s desire to paint Scott as an affected kook has received no greater supporter than Scott himself. Indeed, the man seems to delight in the revelations of his peculiar behavior because it affords him the opportunity to explain it away.

Truly, I cannot imagine why this man is getting the attention he so desperately craves, even in the age of anyone-regardless-talent-or-appeal-can-be-famous-for-a-nanosecond. Still, here I am writing about him, aren’t I? Paris Hilton must be fuming mad right now. Why go to the trouble of leaking a tacky sex tape or getting arrested for a DUI when all she had to do was toss a Folio into her Prada bag next to that obnoxious dog she carries around everywhere and run to the police saying, “Look what I stole!” In the mean time, we’re stuck with this Howard-Hughes-by-way-of-Crispin-Glover weirdo engaged in an ongoing audition for a reality show that could be titled The Shakespeare Borrowers. Even if he didn’t take the book, can’t we arrest him for being annoying?

Every major media outlet regularly runs pieces about the iffy state of the economy. Cable news stations, with their twenty-four-hour stream of talking heads, have supplied endless experts in every imaginable field giving their take on the country’s (and the world’s) financial woes. Depending on whom you ask, different culprits are to blame, but the usual suspects tend to show up. For many, the skyrocketing fuel costs are blamed for having a ripple effect on other products whose creation and/or delivery are sensitive to energy costs. As a result, consumers are backing off certain goods and services in an attempt to conserve, which is further stalling the economy. Others point the finger at the real estate market or other sources, while some analysts see these disparate areas as interrelated.

Regardless of the source or the severity of the issue (which is also debated), the impact has even been felt in the world of Shakespeare. Shakespearience, an attraction in Stratford-upon-Avon, has seen a severe drop in attendance. The downward turn is part of a larger trend of reduced tourism to Stratford and the U.K. as a whole. Since many of these tourists are Americans, the reduction could easily be attributed to increased travel costs as a result of gas prices. Until money matters improve (or perhaps if news outlets stop keening over the death of the economy for a few minutes), it seems some Shakespeare fans will have to put part of their passion on hold.

What’s in a name? I think somebody famous once asked that question. I was watching comedian Dana Carvey’s new comedy special and the former Church Lady happened to riff on that very idea. In his act, he was posing the question in terms of politics, noting how likeable the current Democratic candidate has to be in order for people to get past his name. Though, honestly, perhaps Millard Fillmore faced the same challenges a few hundred years back. Carvey’s jokes pointed to the way names often bring up associations unrelated and unintended. They can also carry with them certain expectations.

When searching the wide, wacky world of Shakespeare news, I am often struck by the number of articles that pop up for people who simply happen to have Shakespeare as a last name. One such item recently popped up regarding an athletics coach who shares Will’s last name. While from the outside it must seem like a lot of fun, I have no doubts that people with the mis-/good fortune to be named Shakespeare must be subject to any endless array of cheap, corny or simply lame attempts at humor.

For someone involved in sports, the puns that commentators and writers must inflict upon this man must be brutal. “He has got to win this game, Ted, or it won’t be all’s well that ends well.” “Bob, Shakespeare’s team has just been amazing, meeting whatever challenge their opponents throw at them and giving it back measure for measure.” “John, we thought Coach Shakespeare was injured, but it turned out to be much ado about nothing.” The current Mr. Shakespeare has my sympathy; to put up with all of that takes one noble kinsman.

If you are a fan of really obscure poetic references, then last night’s Tony Awards must have been a hoot for you. On the heels of Lauren Hutton’s psychotic break during the meaningless A-List Awards, actor Mark Rylance chose to recite poetry rather than issue any kind of formal thanks for the Best Actor in a Play Tony he won yesterday. The moment elicited both chuckles and head scratches from the audience in an evening when most of the expected victors claimed their prizes.

Rylance’s win also came at a high price to Shakespeare fans. Patrick Stewart’s highly regarded interpretation of the title role in Macbeth was bested by the performance of quirky poet Rylance. In addition, Stewart’s nefarious leading lady also walked away awardless. In fact, the entire production was shut out, not claiming a single victory.

Whether kooky or just cheeky, Rylance is a fine actor, so it is hard to begrudge him. Furthermore, he has also racked up a ginormous resume of Shakespearean work himself. Still, his win for a revival of a little-known farce seems like a bit of a letdown. At the very least, it might have been nice for the Tony audience to have been treated to a performance of a scene between Stewart’s Macbeth and Lady M. I know it would have been challenging because it would have cut into the valuable time they spent staging musical numbers every five seconds, including those from plays that have been around for OVER A DECADE! Sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice, but the Bard got robbed.

Get ready for Now That’s What I Call Elizabethan Writing. Depending on your age, you may or may not know who Roger Rees is, but his face is doubtlessly familiar. For those of us in the States, he is instantly recognizable for his recurring role as a stuffy romantic foil on Cheers. Rees, however, has an extensive resume in stage, television and film, notably appearing in several adaptations of works by Charles Dickens. Most importantly, Rees has done Shakespeare galore, and his latest venture utilizes the skills he developed in countless Bard-based productions.

Stealing its name from the subtitle of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, What You Will is a Shakespearean actor’s dream. The ninety-minute play is a celebration of Shakespeare on the stage. The one-man show features some of The Bard’s greatest speeches, allowing Rees to show off his range and verbal dexterity. In addition, the piece also contains historical anecdotes about performances of Shakespeare’s plays, some of which were hilariously disastrous. The show also has some pop-culture name-dropping including the seemingly incongruous Stevie Wonder (if Rees impersonates him, what will THAT be like?).

What You Will seems to have a comic bent, but I would be willing to bet money the evening won’t end without a snippet of the Agincourt speech or a few lines of “To be or not to be.” This, after all, an actor’s showcase, so if Rees only plumbed the comic highlights of The Bard, he’d be missing a huge percentage of the writer he’s celebrating.

In how-meta-can-you-get? news, I recently read an article about what Shakespeare can teach us about blogging. Intrigued by the item, I now find myself in the position of writing a blog about blogs. According to this writer, Shakespeare made a name for himself by combining a variety of different elements. Not only did he borrow story points (if not entire plotlines) from other authors, he also melded their styles together. In his works classical ideas of tragedy are combined with holdover elements from medieval morality plays (particularly their episodic structure). Shakespeare found similar inspiration for comedy from numerous sources, including short comic sketches as well as pastoral comedies. In essence, Shakespeare was all about pastiche….

….which brings us to blogging. When the term first started to appear, I remember thinking, “What the heck is a blog?” Now that I write one, I am not even sure I am any closer to a true definition, but some common elements do appear. Blogs are often the intersection of the critical, the personal, and the popular. Whatever people blog about, whether it’s a play, a politician or a reality television show, the reactions and assessments are always personal. Furthermore, in many forums, people bring their own areas of expertise to the dialogues created on blogs, which can make it a more intellectual experience. Balancing out the potential for that kind of writing to become incredibly snobby (to say nothing of dry), popular culture has become a common medium for reflection and comparison. In the blogosphere, I could talk about William Shakespeare and Perez Hilton (shudder) in the same breath….but, don’t worry, I won’t.

Miley Cyrus is just about everywhere. If she’s not dominating record sales charts or selling out all of her tour dates, she’s topping the North American box office with her concert film. In short, she’s a teenage megastar, and she’s already managed to land herself in her first major scandal at the young age of fifteen. If you’ve been catatonic or in some other blissful location where Inside Edition can’t reach you, you might not be aware of the Photograph Seen Around the World. In a recent magazine photo shoot, the Achy Breaky spawn posed provocatively in a bedsheet—a move some of criticized in light of her age. The inevitable cycle of spin, apologies and finger-pointing has followed, all of it somehow sadly predictable. Ms. Cyrus, her stardom, and her suspiciously well-timed scandal are very much of the moment (if you don’t believe me, check back in five years when she and Hilary Duff will be on the same VH1 “Where Are They Now?” special). This makes name-dropping her in a classic play all the more curious. Georgia Shakespeare is currently staging the madcap farce The Servant of Two Masters. Since the play is translated, pop-culture references have been strewn throughout, including a shout-out to the sheet-wrapped pop tart. Why? I’m trying to imagine the same kind of adjustments being made to one of The Bard’s plays. Can you imagine if, in the middle of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Helena said, “Lysander, knowest thou not when to stop? Thou acts as Miley when she lost her top!” For both Midsummer and Servant, there is plenty of humor to be had without pillaging the tabloids.

If you have never heard of Two Geezas of Verona, fear not. Likewise, if All’s Sweet That Ends Sweet does not ring any bells, you are not alone. The two titles are part of a larger trend of rewriting Shakespeare. In this case, a playwright (and self-described satirist) has rewritten several of Shakespeare’s texts using British “yoof speak,” a combination of British street slang and text-message phrasing.

Text messaging definitely marks a generational divide. For the tech-savvy youth, it’s a no-brainer as they have never known a world without the variety of media at their fingertips. For older generations, it’s one more gizmo to shake their heads at in exasperation and vow never to learn. For those of us in between, it’s a little of both. I have definitely texted, but it is far from being a way of life. I also do not use the OMG’s and other acronyms so associated with it. I see it as a useful tool, yet there’s a part of me that just wants to tell those fast-fingered kids to get the heck off my lawn before I call the police.

Perhaps the same could be said about reinterpretations of Shakespeare. There are those of us in the “Shakespeare has to be hip and reinvented” camp, while others reside in the “stop trying to dumb it down, it’s brilliant as it is” district. In a way the battle itself is good for both sides. Perhaps when I get the urge to shake my cane at Two Geezas of Verona, I should instead give it a chance. I just might LMAO.

In a showdown between J.K. Rowling and William Shakespeare, who would win? Would it even be a fair fight? After all, Rowling does have the advantage of being alive. A better question is can they even be mentioned in the same sentence? (Yes, I know I just did). It turns out that in England, the two writers are going to be mentioned together quite a bit more. It was just announced that Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (the original British title for the first book in the series) has been added to a standardized exam. This means that the underdog wizard has officially flown his way into school curriculum.

The article seemed to pointedly reference the grouping of Rowling with esteemed British writers like Dickens and Shakespeare. While it is hard to tell if that reference is indifferent or a kind of indirect criticism, it is likely that many will take umbrage at Potter sharing the same curricular environment as Puck and Pip. It is the time-old battle between popular writing and “literature.” Given the gazillions of copies the Potter books have sold, it is hard to deny their impact (especially considering how many of those reader have devoured all seven books, but never touched a play by Shakespeare). Still, popularity does not equal quality. A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila is quite popular, but if that ever shows up on an English exam, it will be the first sign of the Apocalypse. In the end, hopefully the two do not have to be mutually exclusive. After all, Shakespeare is both popular and well-respected, so perhaps young Harry can be too.

Pulp Fiction was a zeitgeist film. It spawned a thousand horrible imitations, none of which captured the mid-nineties vibe quite the way the original did. It tapped into the retro-cool (particularly evocative of the sixties and seventies) that characterized the period. It also was the genesis of writer chic, a kind of movement wherein writers didn’t care if their dialogue sounded like dialogue, so long as everyone was cool while they said it (yes, Juno, you must tip your hat). Finally, the film managed to hone in on our timeless fascination with lowlifes and criminals.

Countless high-concept productions seek to merge Shakespeare with a given zeitgeist. Some even use the ultra-hip trappings descended from Pulp Fiction as part of their aesthetic. Still, what would happen if the Bard and the Quent truly merged? Well, it turns out, that someone wanted to find out. A new wiki site is devoted to creating a whole new take on both Shakespeare and Pulp Fiction. The ongoing project is a scene-for-scene rewrite of Tarantino’s film in the style of Shakespeare. That means Quent’s postmodern chitchat has been swapped out for iambic pentameter.

Will the result capture a new kind of zeitgeist? Hard to say. At nearly fifteen years old (God, that makes me feel old), the film is approaching retro status itself. Still, will this project amount to anything more than a highly elaborate goof? What do we gain from a nouveau-Shakespeare Pulp Fiction? That’s a question more mysterious than what lies in the luminous briefcase.