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This above all; to thine own self be true. 
William Shakespeare

AUTHENTIC ARGUMENT~ 23rd FEBRUARY 2016

25/2/2016

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Image ~ Supplied and Credited by Ermilia
 Today I thought I would combine my blog Post with an exercise in Writing Practice from here:

http://thewritepractice.com/conditional-sentences

Conditional Sentences



“A conditional sentence is a sentence that describes a hypothetical situation, like an action or event, and the result of that situation.

Confused? Here’s an easy way to think about it: a conditional sentence can usually use the words “if” and “then.” Here’s an example by me based on my Blog Post ”


  IF modern makeup is used in a Shakespeare play, THEN it can’t be called an authentic performance.

~~~~~~~


AUTHENTIC ARGUMENT
by John Yeo

A letter received by a would-be Hamlet.

 THE AUTHENTIC SHAKESPEARE COMPANY
 Stratford-Upon-Avon.

      Dear Sir.
We are pleased to inform you that your application to play Hamlet in our current production has been successful. In view of your extensive past experience of playing this role, and the excellent performance you treated us to at the interview. Please report to the director at the theatre next Wednesday morning, where you will meet the rest of the cast.
     Yours faithfully,

   Wednesday at the Authentic theatre

     “Hello Luvvies, wonderful to meet you all, I am here to replace your leading man, I hear he is not very well, I’m sorry to hear that. I’m William! I understand if we have a successful informal rehearsal first, then we can have a full dress rehearsal this afternoon.”
     “That’s right William, Grab a stool and start following the lines when we begin, you were very impressive during the interview, everyone was amazed at the way you read your lines from memory.”

    Later in the pub, the talk is all about the wonderful, trouble free rehearsal of the morning and the full dress rehearsal to follow, this afternoon.

     “William have another good home brewed stout! Sorry they don’t serve sack here, perhaps if we ask them to order some especially for you, then you can enjoy it while you are working here!” 

     “Fine thanks! I won't have another drink now. If I drink too much then I will be heady this afternoon.” Replied William.

    Back at the theatre, William is shown to the star’s dressing room.     “Here are your costumes they are made to an authentic Elizabethan design. Good job you are the same build as our previous leading man. The makeup artiste will be along shortly.”
      “WHAT! I was under the impression this was an authentic production. Shakespeare would never have applied modern day makeup. I am not a circus clown man!  I would like to see the Director.” Shouted William irritability. “Get him at once!” 

   “Yes Sir!” Said the stage hand.

  The Director arrived and was stunned to hear about this turn of events.
    William shouted at him, before he could open his mouth.  “IF I am expected to have this muck applied to my face, THEN I refuse to play the part.
    I will refer this non-authenticity to the trades description department of the Lord Chancellor’s Office.


Copyright © Written by John Yeo All rights reserved

(493 WORDS)

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THE REALITY OF A DREAM ~ 15th February 2016

17/2/2016

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Image ~ Supplied and credited by Emilia

THE REALITY OF A DREAM
by John Yeo

 There was an imperfection, I could clearly see where the scars were not healing properly. I paid a fortune to have every pore of my face re-modelled and re-sculptured. I am not happy with the results, my surgeon has made so many errors in the restructuring and rebuilding, I cannot help but shed tears for my former angelic appearance. Before I was assaulted by acid and  I was thrust screaming through the channel into the jaws of this rough cold heartless environment. My wings! I can clearly see them pictured when I look into the mirror, I can see them, but I am unable to feel them, it is almost as if the image looking back at me is not my reflection.
 I remember the pain, searing shocking pain, when the acid was thrown in my face. I screamed but I was unable to hear my own shocking screams of agonised pain. Then the reality of this horrific scarring. Deformed for the rest of my life, I can hardly bear to look in the mirror. I keep begging the surgeons to finish the operation, and bring my features back to some sort of normality. My surgeon says the operation has been a great success, but I can still see tiny little scars. The horrific realisation that I am never, going to look the same again, has changed my whole outlook.

 The routine in this section of the hospital is the only thing that breaks up the day for me. I have been transferred into this section under the pretext of a further period of rest and recuperation. I can’t understand why the doors are always locked and I am not allowed to go outside. The Doctors have taken all the mirrors away from me, I am not permitted to see my distorted reflection. My hair is now long, lank and unbrushed, I can’t wear makeup, as I am not allowed a mirror to apply any makeup.
Today I am going to be permitted to see myself as I really am. A very large mirror on wheels has been brought into the consulting room, covered by a blanket. My arms have been restrained with straps at the sides of the chair.

“Hello Coral! We are here to create a magical transformation. First we will reveal to you, your true appearance, then the Nurse will gently give you a tablet to enable you to sleep for a while, then, when you wake up, your normal beauty will have been restored.”
The blanket covering the mirror was suddenly removed. Looking back at me was an unkempt reflection of a plain dowdy woman, in shock. Yes shock! I screamed and struggled to free myself from the restraints, without success. The Nurse gave me a drink of cloudy water with a ground-up tablet, I struggled and fought and screamed loudly as I attempted to get away from the horrific apparition that looked back at me from this mirror. The drug then took effect and I drifted into unconsciousness.

When I came to, several hours later, my memory of the past was a vague recollection of the horror of what seemed like a dream. As things became clearer, realisation set in, I leapt to the mirror that was still in my room and my spirits lifted, as if a dark curtain had been opened. I could see my normal self smiling back at me in complete recognition.
I must have been dreaming, or in another dimension of reality,  I  don’t know. What happened?
Why am I suddenly wearing wings?

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights you reserved


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