Saturday will be notable for three things:
The huge protest at the Valley against the Regime.
St Georges Day.
The anniversary of William Shakespeare's birth.
The three events are connected by the Bard's immortal words:
"This day is called the feast of St George.
He that protests this day, and comes safe home, will stand a tip-toe when this day is named, and rouse him at the name of St George. He that shall protest this day, and see old age, will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours and say "To-morrow is Saint George’s Day.". Then will he strip his sleeve and show his #WeWantOurCharltonBack stickers and say "These stickers I had on St George's day."
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot but he'll remember, with advantages, what feats he did that day. Then shall our names, familiar in his mouth as household words— Afka the King, Irving and Airman, Addicted and Plum, Davo and Curb-it — be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.
This story shall the good man teach his son, and St Georges Day shall never go by, from this day to the ending of the world but we in it shall be remembered.
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. For they to-day that protests with me shall be my brother; be he never so vile this day shall gentle his condition, and gentlemen in England not at The Valley shall think themselves accursed they were not here and hold themselves cheap while any speak that protested with us upon Saint George's day."
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"This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man."
Set fair the wind for Belgium. Good luck to all.
You are a tedious fool. Measure for Measure
Some report a sea-maid spawn’d him; some that he was begot between two stock-fishes. But it is certain that when he makes water his urine is congealed ice. Measure for Measure
The Bard on Meire:
Dissembling harlot, thou art false in all! The Comedy of Errors
Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell. Othello
The Bard on Murray:
Thou mis-shapen dick! Henry VI
The Bard on the Board:
A knot you are of damned bloodsuckers. Richard III
The Bard on Keohane:
I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed monster! The Tempest
The Bard on Fraeye:
Your abilities are too infant-like for doing much alone. Coriolanus
The Bard on Two Shat's collection of cut-price puppet coaches:
They are hare-brain'd slaves. Henry VI
The Bard on seeing That picture of Two Shats at The Valley:
The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes. Coriolanus
The Bard on what Two Shats should do now:
Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle!: Troilus and Cressida
Stands
ScotlandBelgium where it did?