Tag Archives: Hamlet

Dane

Dane: (n) a native or inhabitant of Denmark.

Some words get swallowed up by just one definition.

For instance:

  • “Appaloosa” always finds you horsing around.
  • “Rockies” brings mountains to mind.
  • And for me, the word “barbecue” will always be linked with ribs.

The “Dane” that always comes to my mind is Hamlet.

Actually, it’s a vision of a very distraught young man, eating cheese Danish.

With my limited understanding of the Shakespearean play, what we have here is a whiny millennial from the sixteenth century, upset because his life is miserable, everybody’s lied to him and he seems to be trapped in a family of the hysterical. (And I don’t mean funny.)

So his answer is to consider suicide.

And he’s very noisy about it.

I guess I would kind of assume that anyone who’s noisy about trying to kill himself is hoping that someone will lodge an objection. Otherwise, you open the door one morning and they’ve already gone to it.

Hamlet whines.

I suppose there’s some level of interest in the style of his complaint—his wording—and you may even think that his character explores the depths of human despair and depravity.

But he doesn’t do much to promote the cause of the Dane—especially since there are people like me, who don’t have any other reference about a whole nation of people, other than their twisted, perhaps unfavored son, Hamlet.

To be or not to be?

That is…

Depressing.

Cheek

Cheek: (n) either side of the face below the eye.

To write or not to write–there is the question.

As a scribbler of ideas, my “ham” needs to be “let” out at just the right time. Should I talk about butt cheeks? Or take the higher road and
turn to the other cheek?

I could do both. Perhaps the concept the Sermon on the Mount intended us to employ was to moon people, and then allow them to smack our ass. Unlikely possibility, but certainly tickles my innards.

“Yes, my children, when you run across people who mistreat you, pull down your pants and show them your gluteus maximus. And if they decide to slap it, turn the other one to them.”

Of course, I don’t really feel this was the original meaning.

No, there was once a person who walked the Earth who thought it was better to offer the soft tissue of the face, to be bruised, rather than striking out with mayhem and murder.

You can’t break a cheek. It just bruises.

And in that split second–when you decide to turn the other cheek–you let people know that you continue to take the stance of being non-violent, buying time for reason to enter the soul of your adversary. Therefore he or she might give up the attack.

It is risky.

But it certainly is not as risky as reaching up quickly to remove the eye from your enemy, trying to see through your bleeding socket.

 

Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix 

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