Goth Blog
In what other month but October can you exit your last class and find it a beautiful clear day, enjoy a deep breath of clear fresh air, saddle up your bicycle, and whistle all the way to work the theme song from "Tales From the Crypt"?
God has officially pulled the "deep freeze" lever on Chicago, dropping the temperature from 85 to 59 over two days. For the time being, I'll be naive enough to really really enjoy it and take random walks through Hyde Park and get high on shuffling my feet through crunchy piles of dead leaves.
Hamlet continues to improve every day. I can't express how much pleasure I get from reading the book at a strolling pace, covering no more than two scenes per day. Granted, it did not seem so pleasurable back in Mr. Wade's AP Literature class, where we must have spent a month and a half every day on that play. I'm all for making time for texts, but there were only so many times we could take lectures based on the thesis, "Gosh, that's neat."
It might be interesting to someone to point out that my current professor says the name, "Shakespeare," about one-tenth less than my professor last quarter when just describing the writing. It's as if this class wants to extract the "Shakespeare" from the text, at least in some kind of historicist conception. Everything is posed as, "How do we judge Hamlet's madness in this scene?" rather than, "How does Shakespeare mean for us to read his madness?"
The Smart Museum has an American Impressionist painting of the 1893 World's Fair Columbian Exposition. My art history teacher guessed that it was painted somewhere between 55th and 56th street on the lake:
In what other month but October can you exit your last class and find it a beautiful clear day, enjoy a deep breath of clear fresh air, saddle up your bicycle, and whistle all the way to work the theme song from "Tales From the Crypt"?
God has officially pulled the "deep freeze" lever on Chicago, dropping the temperature from 85 to 59 over two days. For the time being, I'll be naive enough to really really enjoy it and take random walks through Hyde Park and get high on shuffling my feet through crunchy piles of dead leaves.
Hamlet continues to improve every day. I can't express how much pleasure I get from reading the book at a strolling pace, covering no more than two scenes per day. Granted, it did not seem so pleasurable back in Mr. Wade's AP Literature class, where we must have spent a month and a half every day on that play. I'm all for making time for texts, but there were only so many times we could take lectures based on the thesis, "Gosh, that's neat."
It might be interesting to someone to point out that my current professor says the name, "Shakespeare," about one-tenth less than my professor last quarter when just describing the writing. It's as if this class wants to extract the "Shakespeare" from the text, at least in some kind of historicist conception. Everything is posed as, "How do we judge Hamlet's madness in this scene?" rather than, "How does Shakespeare mean for us to read his madness?"
The Smart Museum has an American Impressionist painting of the 1893 World's Fair Columbian Exposition. My art history teacher guessed that it was painted somewhere between 55th and 56th street on the lake:
2 Comments:
I blame it on Dostoyevsky.
That's a gorgeous painting, however it does look a little like Rose from "Titanic," and I don't usually like to condone things James Cameron.
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