to tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites
where the fuck is you, romeo
Fuck you, the original line in Romeo and Juliet is “Wherefore art thou”. And maybe if you stopped being an assumption-making bag of fucking asshole, you’d know that wherefore does NOT FUCKING MEAN “WHERE”, WHEREFORE MEANS “WHY”.
SHE’S ASKING WHY HIS NAME IS ROMEO. FUCK ALL OF YOU. FUCK ALL OF YOU HARD UP THE TOENAIL. I TAKE MY SHAKESPEARE SERIOUSLY AS TITS.
why the fuck is you romeo
Benedick: one woman is fair, yet I am well. another is wise, yet I am well. another virtuous, yet I am well - but till all graces be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace … rich she shall be, that’s certain; wise, or I’ll none; virtuous, or I’ll never cheapen her; fair, or I’ll never look on her; mild, or come not near me; noble, or not I for an angel; of good discourse, an excellent musician - and her hair shall be of what colour it please God.
Shakespeare’s Curtain theatre unearthed in east London; Stage where Romeo and Juliet was first performed is rediscovered in Shoreditch centuries after it was dismantled
The Curtain theatre in Shoreditch preceded the Globe on the Thames as Shakespeare’s first venue, showcasing several of his most famous plays. But it was dismantled in the 17th century and its precise location lost.
Now part of the gravelled yard in Shoreditch where the groundlings stood, ate, gossiped and watched the plays, and foundation walls on which the tiers of wooden galleries were built have been uncovered in what was open ground for 500 years while the surrounding district became one of the most densely built in London.
Experts from Museum of London Archaeology (MoLA) have found two sections of exterior wall, crucial for giving the dimensions of the theatre, and are confident of revealing more as the site is cleared for redevelopment. An outer yard paved with sheep knuckle bones could date from the theatre or slightly later housing.
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As beautiful as it is to rediscover a gem like this (partially paved in bones, no less), I find myself more interested in how things are lost than how they are found: the process of slow forgetting; the erosion of thing-ness; the small cracks between day and day, year and year, parent and child, that swallow the particulars of a place, while leaving the knowledge that the place existed at all untouched at the side of the plate.