It’s a weakness.
Or am I?
Poor in spirit, and rather depressed about it, I am finding that Lent this year is kicking ass.
To kick a donkey in “the king’s” English is not the point. My King speaks English, but he has also cursed it to Babylon and back again.
The point is that arguing mootly about the morality of Shakespeare’s vernacular is not worth comparing to the deep pathos of Christianity’s annual celebration of the arduous excesses of our fall into darkness.
I mean, may I suggest that if potty words make you angry, then you might be doing Lent wrong.