Shoot me, but I liked Mel Gibson as Hamlet.
Olivier's Hamlet was creepy and fey, like the Monty Python character
whose father wanted him to marry the girl with huge tracts of land...
Today is Saturday.
In the last seven weeks, I've posted roughly 32,000 words to the blog, which works out to, with illustrations, about 150 pages of manuscript. That's a lot of words.
Today, I'm going to work on actually organizing some of the names I've compiled.
Next week, pictures! And a tribute to veterans (some of which may surprise you!)
I don't know if anyone is reading this. That's really not the point. There is a little bit of Hamlet's mission in this, the ghost standing at the parapets, pleading with the living, "Remember me!" Eugene Pearce deserves to have his story known. Peter Litwin deserves to have his story known (I'm working on a song lyric for Peter, "The King of Oliver Street"). The Interweb is a better place with my grandmother's wedding photo on it. These are my people, our people (for I cannot imagine that anyone who is reading this on a regular basis is not related to me -- it's sort of like having your nut uncle run for city alderman: the only votes he gets are from concerned family members who don't want to see the old gasbag get shut out; folks who honestly thought that he was the other guy; and fellow nuts and gasbags) and these "voices from the dust" are the voices that gave us our voice.
And so, Adieu, Adieu!