For those readers outside of UChicagoland, today is only the third day of fall classes, but before I get into that, I have to tell you that two days ago I went to take some trash out and
I SAW TWO BIRDS HAVING SEX ON THE PORCH.
Now I hate to shatter any illusions you might have about how birds make love, but I think it is important to inform the general public that birds do not have sex while flying in the air, as I previously assumed. Also, bird sex is neither light nor elegant. In fact, when I first caught the two in the act, I thought, "Holy shit, that little bird is trying to smother the big bird!" I wanted to break up the fight but I didn't know how, so I stepped closer and yelled, "Hey!" The pair of them turned their heads up at me and flew off, both sexually unfulfilled I'm assuming. I felt bad at first, but then realized that on principle I'm just opposed to seeing birds copulate around my place of residence. There's a reason people put up bird feeders and not little vibrating beds and novelty condom dispensers.
The natural world aside, I feel like I'm being sucked back into academia again, even with a schedule that wasn't supposed to be all that stimulating. It is:
ARTH 101: Introduction to Art [History]
ENGL 101: Critical Perspectives
FREN 203: French Language, History, Culture
FNDL 219: Hamlet & Macbeth
All of those are courses either required for the Core or my major, but surprisingly the "101" courses are my favorite so far, proving my theory that the dynamicism of a class is inversely proportional to the blandess of its title. Art History is reminding me of how much I get off on just looking at slides and analyzing them, and hey, we're reading both Genesis and Plato tomorrow in class (we're reading Book X of The Republic, which is the one where Socrates supposedly hates on poetry and art, so we'll see how fair a treatment Plato gets in the art history department as opposed to Sinaiko's Socrates Class of Wonderment). Critical Perspectives has us reading Faulkner's A Light in August, and even though as a Fundamentals major I'm supposed to hate literary theory or something, I just can't help really loving to read psychoanalytic theory, if not poststructuralism, whatever it is.
The slow horse of the pack so far has been my Fundies class. Maybe it's because I just spent so much time on these plays in Shakespeare II this spring, or maybe because the professor, though a smart cookie, is only a hair more lively than an A&E afternoon special, but the first class felt longer than, well, Hamlet.
Balancing class, work, rehearsal, and nourishment again is coming as a small shock after a season of spending 20 minutes per day choosing which CD I'd like to take with me in the car on the way to Planet Smoothie.
Also, I'm twenty-one. Alcohol purchases: 2, Getting carded: 0.
I SAW TWO BIRDS HAVING SEX ON THE PORCH.
Now I hate to shatter any illusions you might have about how birds make love, but I think it is important to inform the general public that birds do not have sex while flying in the air, as I previously assumed. Also, bird sex is neither light nor elegant. In fact, when I first caught the two in the act, I thought, "Holy shit, that little bird is trying to smother the big bird!" I wanted to break up the fight but I didn't know how, so I stepped closer and yelled, "Hey!" The pair of them turned their heads up at me and flew off, both sexually unfulfilled I'm assuming. I felt bad at first, but then realized that on principle I'm just opposed to seeing birds copulate around my place of residence. There's a reason people put up bird feeders and not little vibrating beds and novelty condom dispensers.
The natural world aside, I feel like I'm being sucked back into academia again, even with a schedule that wasn't supposed to be all that stimulating. It is:
ARTH 101: Introduction to Art [History]
ENGL 101: Critical Perspectives
FREN 203: French Language, History, Culture
FNDL 219: Hamlet & Macbeth
All of those are courses either required for the Core or my major, but surprisingly the "101" courses are my favorite so far, proving my theory that the dynamicism of a class is inversely proportional to the blandess of its title. Art History is reminding me of how much I get off on just looking at slides and analyzing them, and hey, we're reading both Genesis and Plato tomorrow in class (we're reading Book X of The Republic, which is the one where Socrates supposedly hates on poetry and art, so we'll see how fair a treatment Plato gets in the art history department as opposed to Sinaiko's Socrates Class of Wonderment). Critical Perspectives has us reading Faulkner's A Light in August, and even though as a Fundamentals major I'm supposed to hate literary theory or something, I just can't help really loving to read psychoanalytic theory, if not poststructuralism, whatever it is.
The slow horse of the pack so far has been my Fundies class. Maybe it's because I just spent so much time on these plays in Shakespeare II this spring, or maybe because the professor, though a smart cookie, is only a hair more lively than an A&E afternoon special, but the first class felt longer than, well, Hamlet.
Balancing class, work, rehearsal, and nourishment again is coming as a small shock after a season of spending 20 minutes per day choosing which CD I'd like to take with me in the car on the way to Planet Smoothie.
Also, I'm twenty-one. Alcohol purchases: 2, Getting carded: 0.
5 Comments:
Since when do you go to Planet Smoothie? I'd venture to say you didn't go to Planet Smoothie once this entire summer (or for as long as I've known you, for that matter).
I think the reason Hamlet and Macbeth sucks is not the reading, but rather the Lawn Gnome and his ilk.
My girlfriend called me out on that one: I never go to Planet Smoothie. I thought if I put "Starbucks" it would be overkill.
Rita: We'll talk, as Protagorus, in private.
Right.
PS: Protagoras and Socrates talked in public. It was Protagoras who offered Socrates the choice. It's been a while, no? On that note, guess who our magazine advisor is?
A&E has a show called "city confidential" whose narrator can only be described as a hard-worn curmudgeon. Normally I'd say this undermines your claim that A&E programming is not lively, but the show is, in fact, about dead people.
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