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Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial," exclaims Cassio in "Othello."


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Tiger Woods will squeak no more

Published: Thursday, December 3, 2009

Updated: Friday, December 4, 2009

Willie Pace

Willie Pace

 "Alas Poor Yorick," the jest is never dead. Guilt in ribald, as Yorick suffered in Hamlet, can be disinterred to haunt again and again. "Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial," exclaims Cassio in "Othello."

Reputation, it is said, doesn’t belong to you. It belongs to the public, and the public is ready to snatch it back.

Once again, literature is able to step in and teach a lesson that morality tales have been trying to teach us for ages; mainly watch what you do, and watch how you do it because the past is always there to trip you like the 50 yard line. 

 The gravedigger’s scene in "Hamlet" delivers us a message seldom heeded. Once again we see Shakespeare's genius loud and clear. The un-earthing of Yorick in the graveyard can very well be viewed as a warning that the past is a ghostly apparition, depending upon how you have comported yourself.

Why is this important at this time?  Because Tiger Woods, who seemed not to have an un-squeaky bone in his body, has capitulated his honor and now must bow his head in shame.

Tiger Woods is one of our last super-hero sports figure to lose his squeaky clean facade to the proverbial apple of lust.  Now he comes clean stating “transgressions.” When will our erstwhile idols recognize that their transgressions will always surface to wipe out admiring youth – youth who viewed golf as a pristine lesson about living a good life? 

Spousal infidelity is going to catch you with your drawers pulled back above your knees.  It does not make sense. And it does not take a genius to realize that e-mail and cell phones are far removed from the days when, maybe, just maybe, you could write a note with your sinister other hand, and at least try to argue against hope, that someone has forged your sinister John Handcock [sic].

Heed the "tintinnabulations of the bell ringing" in your ears. Literature can teach you things.  The bell is a clarion call that says: Hey, the age of constant cyber-babble is always on the alert to catch you at a most vulnerable moment. 

So think: There are consequences now, more readily paid now, than ever before.  So maintain an aura of respect about yourself because there is always someone out there waiting to make you look bad.  Who will be the next person, celebrity or not, to fall?

I don't know where she got it from, but, my sister would always tell her children: "Never give anyone a stick to beat you with." "How can you dare complain,” she would say, “when it is you who has bent your back for someone else to ride."

These are words of wisdom similar to that of poor Yorick's un-earthing can teach us.

 

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