^{Hail Caesar! Sort of.}

I recently saw Julius Caesar, the inaugural production of UConn's new Nafe Katter Theatre. The theatre itself is quite nice, an intimate space with a thrust stage, making every seat a good seat. I say this every time I return to campus, but UConn hardly resembles the dump I attended.

I remain a Shakespeare agnostic. The play, which mixed professional actors with students, was well-acted. The staging was also excellent, mixing elements of different times, including fatigues and robes, swords and a suicide bomber. And, of course, every time I see a Shakespeare play, I'm struck by his great poetry and how pervasive his lines are. (From Julius Caesar: "Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war," "A coward dies many deaths ...," "Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ear ..." and "Et tu, Brut?" And as Mrs. BoneDaddy pointed out, Caesar's ghost actually does appear, yet no one says, "Great Caesar's ghost!") I nearly always have to be pushed to see a Shakespeare play, but I'm nearly always satisfied.

Still, Julius Caesar is something of a mess. Brutus - seeing the play reminds you that he's the main character - decides Caesar is getting too powerful, joins a conspiracy and kills him. Then everyone who remains kills either each other or themselves. That's pretty much it. Brutus wrestling with his decision to kill his friend and attempting to explain his actions to Marc Anthony are the best parts of the play, but that's done at about the halfway point. As a study of guilt, it's no MacBeth. As a study of indecision, it's no Hamlet and as a study of jealousy, it's no Othello. According to the little pamphlet they give you, many see it as a study of power and its corrupting influence.

Yet nobody in the play actually achieves power. Caesar is killed before becoming king and, while the other characters raise armies, they are either killed or held in check by other armies. At the end, one character even lacks the power to kill himself and is forced to cajole one of his soldiers into it. This play is about the potential of power. And killing it. When you see a play, you are frequently invited by the program or circumstances to draw contemporary parallels. I didn't particularly see our world in Ceasar.

Well, I did once, but only because I can't control my brain. The high point of the play features dual speeches from Brutus and Marc Anthony at Caesar's funeral. As you may remember - depending on how much you drank in college - Brutus has to justify killing Caesar to an incredibly hostile mob. He brilliantly and quickly turns the crowd to his side. ("Let he who would be a bondsman speak, for him I have offended.") A few slick lines and the crowd shouts "Hail Brutus!" and jeers Marc Anthony. Then Anthony follows and brilliantly and quickly turns the crowd back to his side. When he last refers to Brutus as an honorable man, the crowd screams and calls for Brutus' blood. As these talented actors performed the dramatic centerpiece of one of the best plays written by one of the greatest writers, I couldn't stop thinking, "Monorail!!" "Monorail!!" They should have dressed some extras as Moe the bartender and Grandpa Simpson and I would have been all set.

But looking for parallels into our world, I tried to view Ceasar the way I view most things these days: What does this say about Bush's stupidity? In the end, not much. There's no W stand-in here. Bush actually achieved his power-mad fantasies. The cast of Ceasar is not so much ambitious or powerful, but scared. They all fear the other one taking over. The play ends with Augustus Caesar and Anthony staring at each other through a haze of battle and mistrust. Neither of them "win," and I'm not sure which would be Bush anyway. (Although it did remind me of the ending of John Carpenter's The Thing, which had a white guy and a black guy skeptically staring at each other through smoke and also doesn't say anything about our election but proves I can't control my brain.)

There's something archaic about the way the Romans rally around losers. Caesar's memory. Brutus. In contemporary politics, we toss our losers aside. Enron's "Kennie Boy" becomes "Ken Lay, who supported Ann Richards, really he did, and also slept in Clinton's White House, oh, don't bother looking it up." Here in Connecticut, Governor Rell has expressed such disgust with our prison- bound former Governor, you'd think they never met, never mind shared a party ticket. Sooner or later, Rumsfeld with be tossed under the wheels and it will all be his fault because it used to be Tenet's fault and he left, but things were still shitty in Iraq so it has to be somebody else's fault and it can't be Bush's because people aren't ready to admit we're following a loser. Of course, Bush is due for a cold reception from History, but until then it's all "Monorail!! Bush!! Monorail!! Must eat brains."

Which brings me to Kerry and the idea that he might run again for President. It's an appealing idea. After four more years of Bush backpedaling from the consequences of his own actions, of a nothing economy, and of the Iraq folly wouldn't it be nice to say, "Hey Ohio! Wanna try again?" For this to work, we have to be willing to line up behind 2004's loser. Has anyone seriously considered the idea that Kerry hurt his chances by talking about his war record since he is a veteran of a losing war? (Bush himself once claimed that his unit - the "Champagne Unit" - could have done a "better job" in Vietnam. Yep, we lost Vietnam because of the losers we sent over there. Can't wait to see what History does with the Bush record.) As a nation, we don't like to admit mistakes. We don't mind digging ourselves in deeper, especially when the hole is in another country.

Of course, it wasn't that long ago that W was a coked-up deserter and Jeb the best shot for political glory among the Bush spawn. Nixon went from human soccer ball to President. The other side has turned bigger losers into winners. I'm not ready to line up like a crazy Roman behind Kerry '08, but I wouldn't kill the idea either.