Jackpot of Nothing

Dear Q.,

Friendship, yes! Friendship has affected my life in at least three ways (and not yours alone - I have my guards, after all, and lately, I have this fearsome ghost, who treads so heavily inside my double mind). As a boy I would frequently wake up in the middle of the night with the effects of friendship troubling me. During the day I would often find myself thinking about possible solutions to the tricks of friendliness, devising new and increasingly complex routines - usually when I should have been paying attention to something else. My actual friendships, for instance. I have the same bad habit even to this day.

Second, friendship has given me the opportunity over the years to relate in a positive way to tens of thousands of people (by which I mean to refer to my subjects), and, in so doing, helped provide my family with increased financial security and an enteraining lifestyle. Until recently, my participation in matters of parliament have resonated and caused me great joy. I was part of the molecules in motion, but a critical one, which as you suggest, should have compound compiled the value of the demonstration. Now, I am in charge of pure restriction.

Finally, friendship has been a wonderful pathway to other friendships. Most of my enduring friends are physical, even those who publish my ideas in rotten council behind my back (I still cannot forget even your ludicrous conversation with my mother!), but still, my life on this earth would have been much different and much less profound with them. Particularly you, Don Q., my mysterious vaporization of parchment and wax. I was smitten from the beginning. I still am.

I find myself performing well over a hundred shows a day, half of them between vespers and the opening of dawn. I am confused by the knotted ends my gimmicked speeches create in the air before my eyes before suddenly disappearing. Just as quickly new ones reappear! The revelation is everything, as Polonius is fond to say, it is the heart of all things. Yet, the dynamic is always far away and gone, more like a bar stunt than a miracle, more liked a skinned mink than the magisterial mind my subjects allow of me. I would say expect of me, but since having been handed the role of minister of propaganda, I have learned to ellicit their appreciation, rather than stimulate or even earn it. Stimulation, you understand, is Claudius' only known modus operandi since taking centre stage in this, our humble castle.

Speaking of which, am I mistaken in discerning certain persausive elements in your missives to me in my woeful castle? The identity of your thought leads me to believe that I should extend your friendship to my employ - a risky proposition, I shall be the first to submit. Friendship, thick or thin, needs a boat and strong water for sailing in. However, I cannot help wonder on the ways you might help shuffle the untidy ribbons of power in Denmark merely by the slightest flex of your gestalt of enigmatic entertainments. You have such non-mechanical flair, and use little or no apparatus. I suspect you could be adaptable to very small or very large audiences (we often address Sweden as much as Denmark), and your submissions could be quickly set and reset by our printers into every different language. Lastly, you are efficient, and a lot of effect could be produced by minimal work. Methodwise, you might contribute substantially to my pitch to save this dying kingdom. The ghost stands behind me on this request and gives plot to all you can attest.

H.

Postscript. Things have smoothed slightly with Laertes. All have accepted my ravings as that and no more. None have offered to visit me in Zurich.