Come Probe Shakespeare’s Globe

William Shakespeare.

Philanderer, thief, incorrectly lauded advocate for baldness, plus writer.

In London town you’ll still find his legions salivating in the depths of his magnificent globe.  Not a far cry from his legions past, who, too, stood in the depths before his oratorical mastery, their fingers clenched softly around over-ripe produce begging to explode upon the breasts of the worlds pioneering drag acts.

Of course, bearing in mind the term ‘fruit’ is practically an archaism in contemporary vocabulary, it’s not unforgivable that newer audiences can be seen softly clutching, instead, intermittently vibrating porn repositories.

Oh, come on.

Moulding rot; iPhone. Both have equal potential to screw up a scene, and as the Bard himself writ: A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

Now, friends, Australians, countrymen, his globe is descending upon you.

From September 5th you will be able to enter into a full-scale replica of Shakespeare’s most prized performative organ.

And believe us when we say it’s nothing if not anatomically correct.

A round, 900-seat, 3 storey venue open to the heavens where you’ll always be at most 15m from the stage; lit with natural light and utilising unamplified sound, affording direct-to-audience address.

From the densest political symbolist tomes to the airiest incestuous oedipal romps, you’ll be able to experience the man, the metricist, the maggoty the way he intended: au naturel.

So gather, little groundlings.

Hell is empty and all the devils will soon be here.

 

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