Washington. The White House.

Enter KARL ROVE

Rove: Now is the moment where Plame will pay
Made glorious by our gov’ment secured
And all the clouds that lowr’d upon the Left
Not nigh the bosom of state secrets buried.
Now are our brows bound with unilateral wreaths;
Our bruised reporters thrown in jail;
Our false alarums changed to random orange;
The dreadful bias squashed by delightful measures.
But I, that am not shap’d for Adonis tricks,
But made to court a haughty looking-glass;
I, that am rotundly stamp’d, declared an evil genius
To strut before a wanton bumbling Bush;
I, that will be pardoned before thrown away,
Eluding social justice, and bars which confine;
To set the hounds upon Prince Scott
My fingers fold for further plans;
Hark, reporters come!

Enter JOURNALISTS, chasing SCOTT MCCLELLAN. ROVE hides behind curtain.

Journalist #1: How now, odd Scott? What falsehoods hath thou wrought?
Journalist #2: In June the King did plege to purge, and now your hands are caught!
Scott: Do scratch thy pads. I’ll never ‘fess. The investigation’s on.
I’m well aware of what I said. Your questions do now con.
I’m glad to talk when an apt sun sets
Or our polls go up, or your appetite whets
If you’ll let me finish, I’ll aid and abet…
Did I say that? Shit, I’m toast.
Journalist #3: You’re not saying much.
Journalist #4: Where’s your Midas touch?
Journalist #2: It’s the same thing through and through.
Journalist #3: It’s a bad spot, Scott.
Journalist #1: Out out damned spot?
Journalist #2: I’d cop or you’ll be through.
Scott: Again, I’ve rejoined. You’re aware and I know.
You continue to ask. Let me breathe.
I appreciate questions and welcome suggestions
Will you titter when I go home and seethe?

ROVE from behind curtain.

Rove: They’ve unearthed my grand plans!
But I’m Bush’s brain. And they daren’t loosen my hold
If they fry me in jail or a scum pounds my tail
I’ll return, raging wolf in the fold

The Royal Shakespeare Company will perform every known piece of writing by Shakespare. Within one year.

That’s damn ambitious and damn cool.

Here are some more details:

• 18 British theatre companies are involved.
• Sir Ian McKellen will play King Lear.
• Dame Judi Dench will be in a musical adaptation of The Merry Wives of Windsor.
• Patrick Stewart to be in The Tempest.

Jimmy Beck points to this page listing writers and their preferred typewriters, which seems apropos to Ms. Frye’s Not-So-Tangerine Writing Implement Epic.

• Just when you thought it was safe to return to the bookstores, an author named Barbara Delinksy has actually revived the Peyton Place series. Is Peyton Place as scandalous as it once was? Can it hope to restore the same admixture of wonder and scandal that Grace Metalious used to enchant Eisenhower voters? Well, I have my doubts. Not because Delinsky’s written 70 books or because she was kind enough to write to us from the lake, but because she can’t spell “germane “.
• A Yeats album has fetched £72,000 at an auction. The album includes 18 letters from Yeats to his friend, Sir Sidney Cockerell, and the manuscript of his essay, “The Tragic Theatre.” There is also an original draft of one of Yeats’ poems that reads, “When you are old and grey and full of water,/And a WC cannot be found and you shall burst, scream for help.” But this work appears to have been abandoned.
• Gunter Grass is interviewed by Deutsche Welle during one of his regular visits to Gdnask. I wish I were making this up, but it looks like Grass was even asked to beat a tin drum. What next? Asking Grass to wear a dog suit or asking him to play cat and mouse?
• For the 100th anniversary of Dreiser’s An American Tragedy, Herkimer County hopes to commemorate the murder that inspired Dreiser. Police have been commissioned to prevent die-hard Dreiserites from going too far during the festivities.
• Pop quiz: Does the phrase “Thousands more are demanding ownership” come from an article on eminent domain or the Harry Potter hoopla. Here’s your answer.
• As widely reported, publisher Bryon Preiss has died.
• And bookmobiles may be dying in the States, but they’re thriving in Indonesia.

A hearty congratulations to Bud Parr, who celebrates two years of blogging at the always excellent Chekhov’s Mistress and can also be found contributing at 400 Windmills and the (nearly finished!) Sonnet Media.