Shakespeare was a prick

So earlier today, I made this my status on Facebook:
Debi is planning on suffering the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune next week. I've got a bit of time on the schedule.
Why did I do this? Well, it sounds like a cool thing to do, eh? Suffering outrageous fortune and all. Not as in money but as in "may you live in interesting times." Then I wondered "What does that mean?" Because anything his contemporary said in 3 words, Bill said in 20. Turns out it ain't so good. Huh.

Which doesn't so much lead to today's quote, but just sort of reinforces it. I hate Shakespeare. Mostly? Because he was a misogynistic schmuck. Well, and that's not even it. What REALLY peaves me is that his protagonists can get away with being the most god-awful bastards for 3 acts, make one little speech at the end, and everyone falls back in love with the dipshit. Not just the women. The men love him again, too.

I read Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet, Julius Ceasar, Hamlet (I think that was it), King Lear. I've seen Shakespeare on stage several times, including twice with the Royal Shakespeare Company. I've seen movies (though honestly, he's MUCH better suited to the stage). I even watched Shakespeare in Love, and Gwen? Seriously?

So I'm perhaps not the most eloquent hater of "the Greatest Writer in the English Language." But I don't get it. Really I don't.