I am aware that there are those amongst you who would argue that this is a purely fictional event and that Lear I was not an actual King, but based on the legendary ancient king Lier, and that Gloucester was not involved in the original story. You might then be tempted to add "yeah, I read the same wikipedia entry as you Dan." But that is neither here nor there.
I recently paid a visit to some of the government-in-anonymity ground support in Shakespeare's birthplace Stratford-Upon-Avon. Judging from my visit, I must say I find it impressive that Bill found time to write and star in quite so many plays whilst also posing for portraits for every pub sign within a 50 mile radius. It is also quite surprising that he did not follow in the path of so many of his Stratford-Upon-Avon commune and open a B&B. Boy, are there a lot of B&Bs in Stratford-Upon-Avon! I would encourage all followers and supporters of Her Majesty's Government (ie. you. Yes you), to make use of these excellent facilities. These are the antithesis of modernity. Indeed I was shocked to discover that my room's television hid an attached DVD player upon it's back, given that such other modern luxuries were dispensed with (These include: coffee making facilities - although reassuringly there were still teas, space to move around and slick hotel receptionists. All of this was thankfully absent). I have stayed at a number of B&Bs and, unlike hotels these are not run by businessmen, millionaires and people with a passion to see Lenny Henry back on our screens. They are in fact run by the slightly odd. Couples of a certain age who have taken the decision to collect passing travelers in their home rather than cats. The ideal B&B owner has an air about them that leaves you staring at the bathroom mirror for ten minutes before showering wondering if it is two way. These strange people should be celebrated by our government, they have an interest in meeting people and bringing them together.
Incidentally, I am NOT a morning person, I do not like morning people, I do not sleep before Dave begins showing Radical Highs and do not wake until the third Top Gear repeat of the next day around 11am. I would therefore respectfully request that if you insist on only serving breakfast before 10am, please do not force me into theatre reviews of the previous day's production of The Merchant Of Venice with strangers while I scoff my bacon fat. (For those wondering, The Merchant Of Venice was very good. Patrick Stewart is excellent in it, despite a wig/glasses that made it hard not to associate him with Jonesey from Dad's Army. And Vegas is a genius setting, the Elvis impersonator was marvelous too (I'm not joking, one of the characters was played as an Elvis impersonator, and it was really fantastic)).
But of course, I jest to some extent. I think in many ways it is a wonderful thing that these oddballs encourage their oddball guests to speak to each other. These are warm and inviting places that, rather than separate people in a cold, empty, pub ajoining a Premier Inn, encourage them to speak to each other, relax and help themselves to cereal. Their rooms are proper bedrooms, not halls-of-residence, identikit, functional rooms. For want of a better cliche, I will say they have character - possibly literally as many of Stratford's buildings claim to be haunted. I completely approve of this character. One of these B&Bs goes one step further and is actually a Q&C (Quilts and Croissants) a modern spin, of which I wholly disapprove (actually I'd quite like to visit it, those Croissants sound good to me, however a quilt alone is scarcely adequate replacement for a Bed).
To summarise: Warm, friendly, inviting, full-of-character and bringing people together: Like her majesty. Unlike the hotels: stale, generic, millionaire-led, like David Cameron's government.
Yeah, it all links, you were wondering where I was going with that weren't you? To be fair, so was I around the two-way-mirrors suggestion.
So exhausted from my early morning breakfast/theatre review, I went out to find a pub with a picture of Shakespeare on the sign. I notice that all of the portraits seem to display a slightly different man, perhaps a testament to the poor quality of sketch artists of the day, or more (technically, less) likely a ruse to disguise Shakespeare's identity allowing him to spread the truth about Gloucester's involvement and support of the Royal Family, fighting those that would censor the original myth.
So Gloucestershire, now I am back amongst you, I urge you to pledge your historic support to the Government-In-Anonymity.
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