It is in William's tragic tale of King Lear that hearts are not simply broken; allegiances severed or affinities dissolved. Much like Hamlet describing the very essence of time being "out of joint" - we find the first usage of the word... dislocate.

Today — it's about time — we tiptoe down the temporal toe path of... tardiness.

Today we will not be talking about an American schoolboy named Johnny, that got himself a guitar and became a rock and roll star. But rather, an English monarch who manages to mistake flowery speeches for effective governance.

Today we have before us a task: a single word created by William, used five times in three plays across some sixteen years of writing.

Today we embark on a very important journey. In this age of mis- and dis- information; deeply solidified opinions based on hearsay and hope; armchair internet philosophers and W W DOT DOLTS - we are going to dispel a widespread misnomer.

Today we travel once again back to ancient Rome, for a tale of ridiculous wealth, hyperbolic flattery, and brazen social climbing so relentless that we come to realize that being surrounded by sycophants really isn't all it's "caked" up to be... I mean "cracked" up to be.

Today, I'm afraid we dip our toe back into the murky pool of crimson carnage.

Today, a tale of stubborn pride, spectacular self-sabotage, and some rather bad PR.

It's always a good thing to keep oneself in check, making sure not to over-estimate our abilities and get a little too big for our "britches" (or "boots" for our U.K. listeners).

Today we undertake the arduous journey into the regicidinal realm of Uncle Will's tale of Scottish witchcraft, ghosts, and marching forests.