I really do.  I wish the dead man would just stay dead, and everyone would stop wanting to read all his plays.  He’s confusing and convoluted, and I do not think that when he was writing it he thought he was writing the most vaulted poetry of all time.  I think he just wrote whatever came out of his head at the prospect of making a buck; he even made up words when it suited him.  That isn’t greatness, it’s being a player.  He’s been playing the world for 200 years, and for that I give him credit, but it doesn’t mean I like his stuff.  You would think the man discovered solar power the way the English department talks about him. 

Let me tell you this: he did not.  You will not see any solar power panels in The Tempest.  You will not find facts about solar energy in As You Like It. You will find a whole lot of boredom and snoozefests, and that is absolutely it.  I can’t see why most people think he’s so amazing when he can’t even come up with a clear cut sentiment, he has to leave everyone guessing at what he means.  Like I said, it’s a pretty cool way to go through life, but it’s just cruel to torture students because he didn’t know what he was talking about.

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