Spanky and I have been looking through everything for an old book I used to read to them. It’s a collection of Shakespeare plays broken down into simple stories for kids.
Now this isn’t a stuffy house, we don’t run around here quoting the Bard. My mom used to do that and we did not have a stuffy house then, either, but the woman had entire Shakespeare plays memorized. Anyway, I admire his work greatly because of the profound insight his plays offer.
Studying Hamlet ages ago, the big question in class was whether Hamlet was mad or just pretending to be crazy. It seemed pointless to dwell on a question with no answer. It drove some of my classmates mad, this question. Oh, the irony. Indecision, too, that was big with this play (to be or not to be).
I didn’t dwell on those two biggies. The thing that struck me the most about the play was something at the beginning, something about two countries at war over a piece of land that was not even big enough to bury the soldiers who died fighting over it. It remains to this day one of the most provocative things I’ve ever read.
My thoughts today are not focused on the war in Iraq, it’s not about that.
It’s about any battle. Any war. Any fight. The people who fight them. What they are fighting over.
I have no respect for people who fight just for the sake of fighting. They have no regard whatsoever for what they are fighting over. It is about pulverizing their opponent. They live their lives looking for fights to win. Any fight. But mostly easy fights. These people are bullies.
Bullies don’t catch on that they are rotting from the inside out. In the end, when the last tic sounds on their clock, they are ultimately losers and their only legacy is a path of destruction.
Unless of course they run across someone who can clean their clocks. It happens. Everyone loves that kind of ending where the hero comes in and saves the day. No one cheers for the bully.