Was on wednesday. I had four classes. Noon o clock was my first italian class, which seems like a reasonable class load disbursed by a nice italian woman. Learned how to introduce myself and say where I’m from. The end.
Poetics was next and is actually not new to me. I took it with a different professor but missed too many days, so now I’m sitting in on this class to clear up an incomplete. Here is an email I sent to the professor.
Hey!
This is Christof. You may remember me from numerous Handwerker readings.
Moving on, I believe Cory (Brown) already cleared something with you. That
something being me sitting in on your class to COMPLETE my INcomplete in his
Poetics class. I thought I would make sure this is still okay in my signature last-
minute fashion. Sorry for not contacting you earlier. It’s been a wacky summer.
For instance, I went to the Olive Garden on my birthday. That was a fun night.
Plus, a month ago I killed a homeless man.
JUST KIDDING!!!!!!!
But seriously, I look forward to being in your class and getting to know you as a
professor.
Hope you had a good summer and thank you so much.
Christof.
Went to the class and saw some familiarish faces. Saw one new face of a creepy bastard who didn’t say anything and had the posture of a statue and the eyes of a junkie. We had an in-class exorcise where she gave us a list of questions about the purpose of art. We each picked one and free-wrote on the topic for ten minutes. I chose, “Can poetry and prose lead us closer to the Truth?”
I zoomed out and got semi-understandably cosmic and began ranting about oneness, the (maybe?) poison of intellectualism, the chain-reaction nature of nature (the argument of nothing being unnatural), and selective apathy. I’d reproduce it but I don’t want to hate myself right now. I have a love/fuck off relationship with theory and semi-philosophical yo-yo shit. My answer can be summed up in to no, but it doesn’t matter.
I was thinking I could just go to the class drunk, since when I’m wasted I get really passionate about discussing that type of business, but, of course, I can’t get drunk before class because then there would be the risk that our teacher would ask us about post-humanism or dialectics and I’d raise my hand and talk about the genius of “John Carpenter’s Vampires” for half an hour.
In between classes I overheard some stonerfuck flavor of a dude-bro on the phone saying, “Then I ate two different kinds of acid and hooked up with two chicks. One of them was Hawaiian. It was awesome.”
Went to Humorous Writing which the teacher likes to call, “The Snarky Muse.” He’s a very interesting chap, who reads excerpts with music from cassette tapes playing underneathe. The music ranges from classical to the theme from “The Sting.” He also likes to show clips from movies and he laughs so hard at them it’s difficult to hear the audio in the clips.
Then two-dimensional design which I dropped, therefore not being important enough to be capitalized.
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Fun phone note: The next day I overheard another piece of a conversation over the phone. Some guy started yelling, “Fuck it! Fuck it! I’ll fucking break up with you right now! Over the phone! I swear to god! Is that what you fucking want?!”
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