So today marks 400 years since the death of Shakespeare. The radio was talking about Shakespeare none-stop on our car journey from Hampshire to Bristol. There were lots of interviews with school children and teachers who were all passionately talking about Shakespeare’s work. It’s amazing that Shakespeare’s plays are still being taught in schools, 400 years after his death, and are still appreciated by children and adults all over the world. Shakespeare can’t have had any idea that his plays would be studied in such meticulous detail, adapted and given so many different treatments, and would still be put on in theatres centuries later. He would be incredbly surprised to find that his work has had such an impact on future generations.
I would certainly be immensely surprised if I knew that David’s Daily Digital Dollop was lorded in a similar way, given multiple theatre, television and radio treatments, and studied for centuries by school children all over the world. I am not being arragant here. I am saying that I would be massively surprised about the fact, but there is just no knowing which works will stand the test of time, and there are examples of writers, poets and artists not being appreciated fully in their own time, but then recognised as a genius by people after their death, and worshiped by future generations. Perhaps my Dollops are too ahead of their time.
Hello to any children from the future who may be reading this, trying to make sense of my strange antiquated style of English, and you are sick to death of having to endlessly analyse my pros. Maybe your school is about to put on a theatrical performance of my elevator music composer blog. Or maybe you’ve been asked to write an essay about my work: “David’s Daily Digital Dollop: comedy or tragedy? Discuss.”
Yesterday we did another afternoon in a primary school. The three of us were each given a microphone to wear which was wirelessly connected to a deaf child’s hearing aids. All the children seemed to have really enjoyed themselves, although the exception might have been the poor deaf child who’s potentially going to suffer long-term psychological trauma after what he faced yesterday.
The attachment on Sean’s microphone was quite loose, and every time Sean moved too much it fell onto the floor. The sound of the microphone hitting the floor must have generated a rather loud sound in the deaf child’s ears, as he jumped and shouted out in shock. This must have happened about five times over the hour. A little later on, Michael put on his guitar and I started playing the accordion. We both forgot that we were wearing micophones attached to hearing aids, Michael’s guitar kept knocking against the microphone and my microphone was in direct contact with the accordion’s bellows. Seeing the discomfort on the deaf child’s face, Michael and I moved our microphones away from our instruments, attaching them to our trouser pockets. This seemed to be working absolutely fine, until both of our microphones eventually detached themselves from the outside of our pockets, and slipped down into our pockets. These were the same pockets that were housing our mobile phones, and the child was apparently then treated to some very loud electronic interference being generated by both our phones. In addition to this, he’d also got a shock whenever Michael and I received a notification on our phones, as the phones vibrated directly against the mics. Michael and I were both receiving the same notifications from The Young’uns Twitter account, and given that we had a gig that day, there were a lot of tweets coming in, meaning that our phones were both vibrating very frequently.
Afterwards, the teacher thanked us for coming into the school and said that she was sure we’d given the children an afternoon that would stay with them for a long time. I’m not sure how true that will be for the other children, but I’m sure the memory of our visit will stay with that poor deaf child for a very long time, and might prove the cause of future psychological problems.
After the lesson I visited the toilet, and it wasn’t until I’d returned to the school hall that I realised I had still got my microphone attached. I assume that the signal wouldn’t stretch that far, but I might be wrong. Fortunately I was humming to myself while I was going about my business, so I doubt that the sound of the weeing would have been audible anyway. And as certain Dollop listeners might be able to tell you, I am not a noisy urinater. If you are wondering what I’m talking about, then feel free to listen to the audio Dollop from two days ago, and continue to listen until you reach your level of squeamishness or decency.
I wonder how often the teachers inadvertently leave their microphones on, and whether this deaf child has heard loads of private conversations between teachers. Who knows what salacious bits of gossip he is privy to. He’s probably the riches kid in the school, due to blackmailing all of his teachers, threatening to reveal their dirty secrets unless they pay him to keep quiet. So don’t feel sorry for that deaf child. He is a manipulative, devilish Iago type character. You see how I referenced Iago, simply because it’s 400 years since the death of Shakespeare, and thus tying all the themes of this blog together perfectly. Did you see what I did there kids? Also the title of the Dollop is a pun on a Shakespeare play. I just thought I’d point that out for you students of the future, just in case you hadn’t got the pun; I’m helping you out with your essay writing here. Shakespeare didn’t have the foresight to help students of the future analyse his work. So does this make me more of a genius than Shakespeare? That is not for me to say. That is for you to say in your essays, studnets of the future and consequently get top marks for factual accuracy.
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