Shakespeare's plays reduced to three-panel cartoons

Mya Gosling has done a great service for those of us who find reading Shakespeare a little tedious. She has reduced the Bard's plays to simple, three-panel cartoons. Here's a sampling:

Check the rest out here. Be sure to check back often, as she plans to give all of Shakespeare's plays the three-panel treatment.

Don't expect quidditch to be an Olympic sport any time soon

Fans of Harry Potter are familiar with the game of quidditch, a rather violent game played by kids flying around on magic brooms:


Author J. K. Rowling claims to have invented the game in a small Manchester hotel after a fight with her boyfriend. Makes sense.

Believe it or not, quidditch is also played in the real world. There is even an International Quidditch Association, complete with its own set of official rules. The IQA is a registered 501(c)3 nonprofit organization, and its "mission is to promote, develop, and govern the sport of quidditch and inspire young people to lead physically active and socially engaged lives."

In case you're wondering what a game of quidditch played by a bunch of muggles might be like, take a look at this match between UCLA and Emerson:


OK, so it's much more exciting in the world of fiction. But then again, what isn't?

Expert analysis: Could the eagles have flown Frodo into Mordor?

You may recall this scene toward the end of The Return of the King in which Frodo and Sam are rescued from certain death by the Eagles of the Misty Mountains after destroying the Ring in the fires of Mount Doom:


Everyone who has seen the movie or read the book has asked themselves the same question: Why didn't the Eagles just fly Frodo into Mordor and save him from the perilous journey on foot? If the Ring's destruction was absolutely necessary to save the world, then sending a Hobbit on what was sure to be a long, drawn-out suicide mission wouldn't be my idea of a winning strategy.

Sean Crist has done the research and envisions how a plan involving the Eagles might have unfolded:

1. After the Council of Elrond, but before the Company departs from Rivendell, Gandalf goes up to the Misty Mountains, hails the eagles, and discusses the matter with them to secure their cooperation and to coordinate the plan.
   
2. The Grey Company travels as they did in the text, passing thru Lórien and traveling down the Anduin on boats.
   
3. At some point on the Anduin, the company lands on the east bank, abandons the boats, and travels on foot north of the Emyn Muil thru the uninhabited Brown Lands. They then turn south and end up at some point along the Ered Lithui around a hundred miles east of Cirith Gorgor, directly north of Mount Doom on the north side of the mountains.
   
4. The eagles rendezvous with the company at some pre-arranged spot just north of the Ered Lithui. It's likely that Aragorn (or someone else) would have previously traveled in the Brown Lands and would be able to designate some landmark as a suitable meeting place.
   
5. An eagle carries Frodo to Mount Doom in a single flight, possibly accompanied by other eagles and by other members of the Grey Company. Frodo goes into Sammath Naur and throws the Ring into the Cracks of Doom.

Probably something like this:

Crist came to the conclusion long ago that this was simply a plot hole that Tolkien never bothered to address:

My contention is that there is nothing in the text to rule out such a plan, and that it is simply a hole in the plot of an otherwise excellent book that the issue is never brought up. This is not to say that LoTR is in any way a bad book; it merely shows that even as excellent a writer as Tolkien does not always succeed at perfectly harmonizing the various entities which he has placed in his world.

He goes on to address 12 objections one might raise in defense of the story as originally penned by Tolkien. If you're in a geeky mood, it's well worth the read.

Mark Twain made of LEGOs

(via The Mark Twain House & Museum's Facebook page)

The original stuffed animals that inspired Winnie the Pooh

As this evening was winding down, we were chilling to some toddler tunes on one of the cable TV music channels. Our four-year-old daughter perked up when she heard the first couple measures of a Carly Simon song. "This is from Winnie the Pooh!" she exclaimed. Sure enough, it was from the soundtrack of Piglet's Big Movie.

Now when it comes to the history of one of the most beloved children's characters of all-time, I am a bear of very little brain. I had a vague memory of hearing somewhere that A. A. Milne, creator of Winnie the Pooh, based his stories on stuffed animals belonging to his son, Christopher Robin.

Well, it's true. And it turns out those stuffed animals are still with us.

Kanga, Pooh, Piglet, Eeyore, and Tigger are on display at the Main Branch of the New York Public Library in New York City.

Mark Twain's amazing insight into human nature

Tom said to himself that it was not such a hollow world after all. He had discovered the great law of human action, without knowing it -- namely that in order to make a man or a boy covet a thing, it is only necessary to make the thing difficult to attain. If he had been a great and wise philosopher, like the writer of this book, he would now have comprehended that Work consists of whatever a body is obliged to do, and that Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do.

(via Facebook)

A Presidential Candidate - by Mark Twain

If you haven't signed up for The Library of America's Story of the Week, you should do so now. It's a weekly email that provides a fascinating glimpse into America's literary past. Today's feature: a deliciously humorous piece from 1879, written by my favorite American author of all time.

A Presidential Candidate
By Mark Twain

I have pretty much made up my mind to run for President. What the country wants is a candidate who cannot be injured by investigation of his past history, so that the enemies of the party will be unable to rake up anything against him that nobody ever heard of before. If you know the worst about a candidate, to begin with, every attempt to spring things on him will be checkmated. Now I am going to enter the field with an open record. I am going to own up in advance to all the wickedness I have done, and if any Congressional committee is disposed to prowl around my biography in the hope of discovering any dark and deadly deed that I have secreted, why—let it prowl.

In the first place, I admit that I treed a rheumatic grandfather of mine in the winter of 1850. He was old and inexpert in climbing trees, but with the heartless brutality that is characteristic of me I ran him out of the front door in his nightshirt at the point of a shotgun, and caused him to bowl up a maple tree, where he remained all night, while I emptied shot into his legs. I did this because he snored. I will do it again if I ever have another grandfather. I am as inhuman now as I was in 1850. I candidly acknowledge that I ran away at the battle of Gettysburg. My friends have tried to smooth over this fact by asserting that I did so for the purpose of imitating Washington, who went into the woods at Valley Forge for the purpose of saying his prayers. It was a miserable subterfuge. I struck out in a straight line for the Tropic of Cancer because I was scared. I wanted my country saved, but I preferred to have somebody else save it. I entertain that preference yet. If the bubble reputation can be obtained only at the cannon’s mouth, I am willing to go there for it, provided the cannon is empty. If it is loaded my immortal and inflexible purpose is to get over the fence and go home. My invariable practice in war has been to bring out of every fight two­thirds more men than when I went in. This seems to me to be Napoleonic in its grandeur.

My financial views are of the most decided character, but they are not likely, perhaps, to increase my popularity with the advocates of inflation. I do not insist upon the special supremacy of rag money or hard money. The great fundamental principle of my life is to take any kind I can get.

The rumor that I buried a dead aunt under my grapevine was correct. The vine needed fertilizing, my aunt had to be buried, and I dedicated her to this high purpose. Does that unfit me for the Presidency? The Constitution of our country does not say so. No other citizen was ever considered unworthy of this office because he enriched his grapevines with his dead relatives. Why should I be selected as the first victim of an absurd prejudice?

I admit also that I am not a friend of the poor man. I regard the poor man, in his present condition, as so much wasted raw material. Cut up and properly canned, he might be made useful to fatten the natives of the cannibal islands and to improve our export trade with that region. I shall recommend legislation upon the subject in my first message. My campaign cry will be: "Desiccate the poor workingman; stuff him into sausages."

These are about the worst parts of my record. On them I come before the country. If my country don’t want me, I will go back again. But I recommend myself as a safe man—a man who starts from the basis of total depravity and proposes to be fiendish to the last.

The literary significance of dead mules

Dead mules. Who knew they played such a significant role in southern American literature?

Jerry Leath Mills established his reputation as an expert on the subject with his 1996 essay "Equine Gothic: The Dead Mule as Generic Signifier in Southern Literature of the Twentieth Century." He later published a revised edition entitled "The Dead Mule Rides Again":

My survey of around thirty prominent twentieth-century southern authors has led me to conclude, without fear of refutation, that there is indeed a single, simple, litmus-like test for the quality of southernness in literature, one easily formulated into a question to be asked of any literary text and whose answer may be taken as definitive, delimiting, and final. The test is: Is there a dead mule in it? As we shall see, the presence of one or more specimens of Equus caballus x asinus (defunctus) constitutes the truly catalytic element, the straw that stirs the strong and heady julep of literary tradition in the American South.

Southern authors dispatched mules in a variety of creative ways. Among those noted by Professor Mills:

Collision with vehicles. In William Faulkner's The Town, numerous mules were herded in front of a speeding train in an insurance fraud scheme.

Decapitation by irate opera singer. Mills notes that "Cormac McCarthy, who far surpasses even Faulkner in the mayhem he visits upon literary mules," used this one in his novel The Crossing.

Drowning. This was Faulkner's favorite.

Falls from cliffs. Mills writes, "The novel Blood Meridian (1985) establishes Cormac McCarthy as unchallenged king of literary mule carnage. No fewer than fifty-nine specific mules die in the book, plus dozens more that are alluded to in groups and bunches."

The list goes on: freezing, gunshot wounds, hanging, rabies, thirst, and many more. Sure, Mills's essay is rather morbid, but it's still very interesting.

Today's popular literature seems to be dominated by things undead. But I'll take dead mules over vampires any day.

Jane Austen's Fight Club

Wisdom of a Useful Sort

Feeling a little badly, 24 hours later, for saying mean things about the usefulness and coolness of this blog, I've decided to post some practical words of wisdom from some of the cooler books ever written: the Winnie the Pooh books by A.A.Milne.

1. “If the person you are talking to doesn't appear to be listening, be patient. It may simply be that he has a small piece of fluff in his ear.”
2. “People who don't Think probably don't have Brains; rather, they have grey fluff that's blown into their heads by mistake.”
3. “Nobody can be uncheered with a balloon”
4. “A bear, however hard he tries, grows tubby without exercise.”
5. “"Well," said Pooh, "what I like best -- " and then he had to stop and think. Because although Eating Honey was a very good thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn't know what it was called”
6. “Those who are clever, who have a Brain, never understand anything.”
7. “Before beginning a Hunt, it is wise to ask someone what you are looking for before you begin looking for it.”
8. “Poetry and Hums aren't things which you get, they're things which get you. And all you can do is go where they can find you.”
9. “Always watch where you are going. Otherwise, you may step on a piece of the Forest that was left out by mistake.”
10. “It gets you nowhere if the other person's tail is only just in sight for the second half of the conversation.”
11. “Don't underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can't hear, and not bothering.”
12. “When late morning rolls around and you're feeling a bit out of sorts, don't worry; you're probably just a little eleven o'clockish.”
13. “Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.”
14. “We can't all, and some just don't. That's all there is to it.”
15. “Organizing is what you do before you do something, so that when you do it, it is not all mixed up.”
16. “You can't stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes.”
17. “Tiggers don't like honey.”
18. “When you are a Bear of Very Little Brain, and you Think of Things, you find sometimes that a Thing which seemed very Thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it.”
19. “'Supposing a tree fell down, Pooh, when we were underneath it?' 'Supposing it didn't,' said Pooh. After careful thought Piglet was comforted by this.”
20. “It is more fun to talk with someone who doesn't use long, difficult words but rather short, easy words like "What about lunch?"”
21. “"When you wake up in the morning, Pooh," said Piglet at last, "what's the first thing you say to yourself?"
    "What's for breakfast?" said Pooh. "What do you say, Piglet?"
    "I say, I wonder what's going to happen exciting today?" said Piglet.
    Pooh nodded thoughtfully.
    "It's the same thing," he said.”
    

One good reason to have children is to give yourself an excuse to read the Winnie the Pooh series. The original Disney animated movie that drew mostly from the books was also not bad. If you don't have time for kids or books, you can at least read the collection of quotes from which I selected this list, at ThinkExist.com.