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Ugh, was having a great time mocking my recently imprisoned rival when I noticed the camera positioning makes it so that I appear behind the bars, thus framing me as trapped in a metaphorical prison of the narrative, now my whole day is ruined. Fuck.

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In light of recent discoveries, I will be changing the name of this blog to honor the true author of these 37/8 plays we all know and love: Christopher Marlowe.

It has been unequivocally proven as of this week that Marlowe did not in fact meet his judgment in 1593, but rather lived on to continue his career as a great poet and playwright.

Previously, it was believed that his works left unfinished and the body identified as his were solid proof that the plays he wrote under the name of “William Shakespeare” could not have been written by the same hand as the great Tragical History of Doctor Faustus and Hero and Leander.

But as of this week, it has been proven that this evidence has long been misinterpreted. It is true that he left behind unfinished poems and that there was a body identified as his. In fact, it is even true that the body identified that day was his.

Where generations of scholars went awry, however, was in their lack of consideration for the spirit of the man whose body died that day. Using modern technology including EMWA (electromagnetic writing analysis), it was discovered that William Shakespeare did physically write the plays, but it was the spirit of the great Christopher Marlowe who was behind them via the ancient art of human consciousness possession (HCP).

Yes, you heard that right: it has been scientifically proven “Shakespeare’s” posthumously published folio which brought us some of our most beloved plays is simply radiating with electromagnetic particles that suggest the mind behind the text was not Shakespeare’s but Marlowe’s, in possession the former’s body.

I study English rather than paranormal writing analysis, so I can only explain what little I know about the subject, but from what I understand, analysis of an original printing of the first folio produced these results. Modern paranormal expert Sam Winchester says of the discovery: “It reshapes the fields of both English literature and paranormology. Most cases of PoP [Possession of Poets] are fairly low-profile. It’s rare to see a case like this. We studied the folio by analyzing the IPs [inspiration particles] and comparing them against a text authentically written by Marlowe and then one we could expect Shakespeare’s possession by Kit wouldn’t have influenced—his will. The IPs analyzed from over six hundred lines of the folio were similar in shape, color, and potency to those detected from lines of Marlowe’s Faustus, Tamburlaine, Edward II, and Hero and Leander but markedly different from those of Shakespeare’s will. The variations in the hue of the particles between Marlowe’s writings while living and those produced after his death via his possession of William Shakespeare showed that “Shakespeare’s” plays were consistent with the particles we see in other cases of PoP, proving that they were in fact written posthumously by the mind of Marlowe and the hand of Shakespeare.”

Anne Hathaway, actress and immortal wife of the late William Shakespeare said that she was “not surprised” by the new development. “Will sure seemed odd after ‘93—sorry, that’s 1593 for you all. He became suddenly obsessed with writing plays and sonnets. I was pretty excited about the sonnets initially until I realized most of them were written to some twink and not me. I suppose that’s how these things go. I still think Will would be proud of his legacy even if it wasn’t entirely his.”

Winchester recommends that “Shakespeare” scholars worldwide “acknowledge Marlowe as the true author of the plays, sonnets, and poems both out of respect for the mind behind the verse and to avoid being possessed [them]selves.” He says that paranormologists have “no reason to believe that Marlowe isn’t still out there waiting to add a few more plays to his repertoire.” In fact, he and his team are currently analyzing Tom Stoppard’s plays to rule out the possibility of another case of possession by Marlowe.

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free boops, get your boops here, leave a note to let me know u want a boop <3

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Hamlet in a nutshell:

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hmm i've gotta do some close reading of much ado at some point because beatrice & benedick scream aromantic and i wanna construct a good argument

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i collaged this two together btw thought some you might like, happy march 15 tumblr!

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et tu?

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the funniest part of much ado is after claudio and hero get engaged and beatrice is like “meanwhile I’m over here!!! forever alone!!! I wish someone like don pedro would ask me to marry him haha!!” and don pedro is like “would you like me to marry you?” and beatrice says no.

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i can't believe he left antony there unsupervised

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mark antony's sarcasm in effect

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i feel like they would have been feral with social media in the BCs & i could NOT leave this inspired idea alone lol

et tu?

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Ross is the real tragic figure in Macbeth not because he has any kind of tragic arc but because he is predestined to be chronically in the wrong place at the wrong time. Macbeth is actually the story of Ross stumbling from one traumatic event to another. He witnesses the battle against Norway; just misses seeing the witches; is at Inverness the night Duncan is murdered; must be up all night because he relays the horrors of the night to the old man after Duncan dies; attends the Macbeth-is-guilty dinner party; tries to warn Lady Macduff to flee Scotland only to return and find her, her children, and all of her servants murdered; has to be the one to break this news to Macduff and Malcolm; and is present when Macduff shows up with Macbeth’s severed head in hand.

If Macbeth, Lady Macbeth, Macduff, and Malcolm (and Fleance?) end this play miserable, they’ve got NOTHING on poor Ross.

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et tu?

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Ok but consider: A production of Hamlet that starts with the last scene and then Horatio has to play his role in the rest of the play, but he’s still completely dissolved in tears. Everyone else is oblivious and he has to keep it together for the sake of storytelling, but his voice cracks as he says “I think I saw him yesternight”, regret filling his tone, and he frantically holds on to Hamlet as he begs him not to follow the ghost; he practically chokes on his words as he shouts, “Be rul’d!” And he knows it’s no use, but he’s so reluctant to play his part in this and he can barely keep his emotions at bay. And then the end of the story draws nearer. He takes longer and longer to say his lines. He hesitates, tries to stretch out the little time he’s got left with Hamlet. He doesn’t want to be in this narrative, but he is. Until finally, as Hamlet decides to duel Laertes, Horatio simply gives up. Reluctantly, but knowingly, he accepts the fact that there’s nothing he can do but play his part and relive it all, just to honor Hamlet’s legacy and story. And Hamlet dies in his arms a second time.

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hold on a second man…

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thinking a lot about how fatal flaws are misconstrued as being moral failings when actually hamartia is a moral neutral.

the best kind of fatal flaw, in my opinion, is one that’s both a character’s greatest strength and biggest weakness at the same time. it needs to be their biggest weakness intertwined like vines with what makes them admirable. it’s their very virtues that bring them to ruin!!! it’s something they can be lauded for that spells their death!!

it’s macbeth’s ambition. it’s oedipus’s loyalty to his state and unending thirst for truth and justice. it’s hamlet’s obsessive contemplation and wish to make sure his every decision is the right one. it’s being loyal to the point of blindness or confident to the point of hubris.

in any other story they could succeed because of these traits, but they aren’t in any other story, and in theirs it’s exactly what damns them.

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Hello. What are your thoughts on the Shakespeare authorship controversy? You seem like a Stratfordian (or maybe that's wishful thinking)

I think that extraordinary claims need extraordinary proof, and that the idea that Shakespeare had to be an aristocrat rather than a working playwright is founded in snobbery rather than in any kind of realistic estimate of the writing skills of the British artistocracy.