When Macbeth starts seeing floating daggers and chatting with witches, it’s not just drama—it’s postmodernism in full meltdown mode. Shakespeare’s bloody tragedy weirdly fits right in with Elissa Bassist’s chaotic Writer Math, Naomi Shihab Nye’s oddly inspiring poem about making a fist in a car, and Tool’s Schism video, where bodies fall apart like IKEA furniture with missing instructions. Through fragmentation, magical realism, and intertextuality, all these works suggest the same thing: reality is broken, meaning is optional, and sometimes, holding it together means losing your mind just a little bit.
Fragmentation is the name of the game when it comes to Macbeth and its postmodern buddies: Writer Math, Making a Fist, and Tool’s Schism. Macbeth’s brain basically hits the “error” screen when he says, “Full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!” (3.2) and the truly mind-bending “Nothing is but what is not” (1.3). Translation: he’s spiraling, hard. Elissa Bassist’s Writer Math is the literary version of this meltdown—her thoughts are a messy equation of trauma + jokes ÷ existential dread. Nye’s Making a Fist adds poetic flair to fragmentation: the kid doesn’t fully understand life, but hey, if you can make a fist, you’re probably not dead. Then there’s Tool’s Schism, which turns emotional collapse into a full-blown interpretive dance of body parts falling off. All four pieces show that fragmentation isn’t a glitch—it’s the system. In postmodernism, being all over the place is the point.
Magical realism is where weird stuff gets real emotional, and Macbeth nails it early. The witches basically show up with a cosmic LinkedIn update—“All hail, Macbeth […] that shalt be king hereafter!” (1.3)—and Macbeth’s like, “Cool, but also... what?” Later, he tries to grab an imaginary dagger like it’s a ghostly Uber Eats order—“Is this a dagger which I see before me? […] Come, let me clutch thee” (2.1). Elissa Bassist does something similar in Writer Math, using emotional equations that make zero logical sense but somehow feel totally true. Nye’s Making a Fist turns a kid’s clenched hand into a life-or-death diagnosis, and Schism turns emotional wreckage into creepy dancing body parts. In each case, magical realism lets the absurd explain the real—because in postmodernism, if you’re seeing floating daggers or fist-testing your mortality, you’re probably just processing life like the rest of us: magically, weirdly, and kind of beautifully.
Intertextuality in Macbeth, Writer Math, Making a Fist, and Tool’s Schism is like a literary potluck—everyone’s bringing their own baggage and weird references. Macbeth’s famous line, “Life’s but a walking shadow” (5.5), is Shakespeare’s way of saying, “Life’s short, we’re all just actors in some cosmic sitcom.” And when he says, “Something wicked this way comes” (4.1), he’s basically predicting the arrival of bad decisions in the form of witches. Elissa Bassist does something similar in Writer Math, tossing in references to math, identity, and trauma like a messy mix of symbols and existential dread. In Making a Fist, Nye uses the image of a fist—because, hey, who doesn’t relate to clenching their fist when life gets tough? Meanwhile, Tool’s Schism takes the idea of alienation and runs with it, like they’ve read every self-help book and thrown it out the window. All these works borrow from common cultural references, but they spin them into postmodern chaos, showing that in life (and art), everything’s fragmented, and nothing makes sense—so let’s just roll with it.
Some related content-
https://youtu.be/B5LwbqhiXt8?si=9dAwEzGO2-_XGuxP
https://youtu.be/bQ7BZTMLImA?si=pEKu-OV_zY_Okrs9
https://youtu.be/OTn5XUFP_iA?si=WJrXMB2OmCivmqXP
In the end, Macbeth and its postmodern buddies—Writer Math, Making a Fist, and Tool’s Schism—remind us that life, like a good Shakespearean tragedy, is one big, messy, confusing play where nothing makes sense, and everyone’s kind of falling apart. From magical realism to fragmentation to intertextuality, these works show that the best way to understand life is not through neat, tidy narratives, but through surreal moments, broken thoughts, and references to stuff that doesn’t even seem to belong together. Postmodernism’s gift to us? The realization that chaos isn’t just normal—it’s the point. So next time you’re stuck wondering what a floating dagger or a fist-clenching metaphor means, just remember: in this fragmented, magical, intertextually chaotic world, it all makes perfect sense…sort of.
This was hilarious and super smart—“Elmo in full meltdown mode” might be my new favorite way to describe Macbeth’s mental state 😂 I love how you made postmodernism feel chaotic but also kinda beautiful, especially with the connections to Writer Math and Tool’s Schism. The dagger as a "ghostly Uber Eats order"? Genius. Your breakdown of fragmentation and magical realism made everything click for me. Maybe just bring in one quote from the videos you linked to, just to tighten the connections a bit. But overall, this is amazing. Macbeth would question reality and vibe to Tool.