For years, T. Rex Murphy has been padding his column with quotes from Shakespeare, presumably in hope of impressing National Post lip movers that he’s got book larnin’ and stuff:
“Watching and listening to Mr. Obama at the Brandenburg Gate this week, that sad line of Hamlet almost inevitably recurred: “Oh … what a falling off was there …”
“To rework a standout line from Hamlet: ‘When scandals come, they come not as single spies, but in battalions.’”
“A leadership race without Justin Trudeau would be both Hamlet without the Prince of Denmark, “…and one more yawn before sleep.”
“…if I may maul a familiar phrase from Hamlet, an ‘undiscovered country from whose bourn no Liberal MP returns.‘”
Last week found T. again plundering his Oxford Anthology of Shakespeare for a passage from Othello:
Not poppy nor mandragora
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
Which thou owedst yesterday.
The rest was downhill; yet another bone-lazy foamer on climate change, this one generously larded out with his reaction to a New York Times column he’d read. When he still couldn’t sustain his argument for an entire column, he starting taking potshots at Justin Trudeau (which the Post dutifully used as its headline.)
The Times essay that drew T.’s ire was written by “a John Scranton…the silliest production of the human mind since the first spark of consciousness, or the latest episode of The View.”
(Note to Rex: The Times writer is Roy Scranton, and don’t you have something better to do with your mornings, like, er, research?)
Of course, what really ticked off Rex were Scranton’s credentials:
“He is a professor of English literature, although I think it fair to claim that neither English nor literature should be thought complicit in Mr. Scranton’s fifteen-alarm brand of climate lugubriousness and pitiless despair.”
Sounds like a little professional envy to us.
There was a time when Rex once dreamed of a career in academe and he hived off to Oxford in pursuit of a degree in English Lit. Alas, he hosed out and returned to St. John’s, his professorial dreams dashed.
Scranton finished his PhD at Princeton, became an award-winning novelist/essayist, served with US forces in Iraq, frequently appears in Times, Rolling Stone and The Nation and he teaches Eng. Lit at Notre Dame.
“And oft, my jealousy shapes faults that are not.”