From Julius Caesar:

When could they say, till now, that talk’d of Rome,
That her wide walls encompass’d but one man?

Shift around the letters, and it becomes:

My low talk: blatant corruption scandals oft went down as he madly helmed the White House.

I’m a ball hit by Tiger, but also by Ashe;
I am genius or luck when it’s merely a dash;
When a swimmer or rower propels with a splash;
Or an illness from heat, with exhaustion or rash.

I’m the move when you pensively rub your mustache;
I’m a blood-starved infarction; a lightning bolt flash;
I’m to flatter an ego; calligraphy slash;
And one pass when applying mascara to lash.

Who am I?

UPDATE: Riddle solved by Asher. See comments for answer.

I’m to copy a sketch; find the source of a call;
To have golfing technology tracking your ball;
An amount in a substance, exceedingly small;
And the evidence left, or you’ve no clue at all.

Who am I?

UPDATE: Riddle solved by Asher. See comments for answer.

I filmed Great Expectations and Oliver Twist;
I’m the years that are poor, where you barely subsist;
I’m a posture to sit from the Passover list;
And the meat that Jack Sprat ate, his wife would resist.

Who am I?

UPDATE: Riddle solved by Jordan. See comments for answer.

So President Trump directed Attorney General Jeff Sessions to fire Andrew McCabe, the acting director of the FBI.

McCabe was set to retire anyway, but the administration chose to fire him so he wouldn’t get his full pension.

The president then crowed about the firing in a tweet.

Ranting and raving about new lows for this administration can get tiring after a while. Maybe that’s the point. Fortunately, I am constitutionally empowered to anagram passages from Shakespeare to express my disapproval, so that’s what I’m going to do.

I chose the speech from Richard III where Hastings laments his capricious treatment by Richard. Richard has sentenced him to death for a transparently minor offense, when the real reason is that Hastings doesn’t support Richard to become king. Hastings notes the dangers faced by others in the circle who may be enjoying his misfortunes thinking they’re safe.

From Richard III:

I prophesy the fearfull’st time to thee
That ever wretched age hath look’d upon.
Come, lead me to the block; bear him my head:
They smile at me who shortly shall be dead.

Shift around the letters, and it becomes:

Trump, he hotly tweets: McCabe, he led the FBI. He’ll be fired home.

He’s married to a Democrat, so Trump kept heatedly asking how he voted as a loyalty oath theme.

Oh, hell.

That’s actually true.

Oh, hell.

I’m the time that a soldier will spend on one base;
When a band or a troupe will perform place to place;
I’m to follow a guide in exploring a space;
And held yearly in France, I’m a bicycle race.

Who am I?

UPDATE: Riddle solved by Asher. See comments for answer.

I’m a fruit-flavored drink that is served in a bowl;
I’m to hit with a fist; I’m a puppet-show role;
I’m to press in your PIN number; making a hole;
And you’ll be pleased as me when you’re reaching your goal!

Who am I?

UPDATE: Riddle solved by Asher. See comments for answer.

From Sir Thomas More:

Nay, it has infected it with the palsey; for these bastards of dung, as you know they grow in dung, have infected us, and it is our infection will make the city shake, which partly comes through the eating of parsnips.

Shift around the letters, and it becomes:

President Trump, a dotard, cynically described fifty non-white nations as “shithole countries.” He speaks guff awkwardly without thinking, yet this one’s no gaffe.

Yeah, enough.

We have to impeach this racist thug.

What the great ones tweet, the less will anagram of.

From Twelfth Night:

Why, thou sayest well. I do now remember a saying, “The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.”

Shift around the letters, and it becomes:

Hell, I went from kooky wannabe to well-deified show boss to the White House (on my first shot)! Ha, me! Why, I’m a stable genius!

Eleven years ago today, a new website emerged onto an unsuspecting Internet, dedicated to a mission of spreading joy, poetry, commentary, wordplay, and an original riddle every Thursday morning. This is a post about that website.

This past summer, I went through the archives and added 25 new category links for your browsing pleasure, including four politicians, three current events issues, seven individual Shakespeare plays, and one category collectively for the histories. I also added links for subjects I find myself writing about often, such as genealogy and game theory.

There are now 1,178 posts in 122 categories and 3,350 approved comments.

And I’ve just renewed the domain name for another year, so one day we can, at the very least, look forward to a January 1, 2019 post called “Twelve Years.”

What comes between the two posts is where the magic happens. I look forward to continuing the journey with you.