(Light Therapy)
Spring term. The birds are out. The flowers are blooming. The 40s are restocked. N2OC10H12.
With only eight weeks left, the U of C is doing everything in its power to be a pain in my ass. After I was unceremoniously evicted from my hemorrhaging Historiography course, I was forced to petition my way into an undergraduate only class. It felt like I was trying to crawl my way back into the womb or urinating backwards (Red Dwarf holla!). In spite of the U of C undergraduates, who are like the bizarre love children of Gollum and Database, my Varieties of Intellectual History course should be quite delightful: who knew Rousseau had such a penchant for sexual submission? [From my own studies last term, I discovered that Descartes exclusively courted cross-eyed girls] My massive academic revelation while reading Confessions:
Rousseau = EMO
Seriously, would MySpace even exist without Jean-Jacques? Speaking of which, Emo girl (aka. Psuedo Waif) randomly re-entered my life at the Wesleyan GOLD party. She appeared with the tedious inevitability of an unloved season.
Timing, as they say, is everything.
With only eight weeks left, the U of C is doing everything in its power to be a pain in my ass. After I was unceremoniously evicted from my hemorrhaging Historiography course, I was forced to petition my way into an undergraduate only class. It felt like I was trying to crawl my way back into the womb or urinating backwards (Red Dwarf holla!). In spite of the U of C undergraduates, who are like the bizarre love children of Gollum and Database, my Varieties of Intellectual History course should be quite delightful: who knew Rousseau had such a penchant for sexual submission? [From my own studies last term, I discovered that Descartes exclusively courted cross-eyed girls] My massive academic revelation while reading Confessions:
Rousseau = EMO
Seriously, would MySpace even exist without Jean-Jacques? Speaking of which, Emo girl (aka. Psuedo Waif) randomly re-entered my life at the Wesleyan GOLD party. She appeared with the tedious inevitability of an unloved season.
Timing, as they say, is everything.
posted by d l wright at 4/08/2006 11:35:00 AM
4 Comments:
Eight weeks... Ha!
Three weeks from today I plan on having a major celebration for the end of the worst semester of my life.
Also, I didn't make the World Series of Pop Culture. So expect a blog post about the experience soon (this weekend even... although, judging by what I have to do in the last three weeks of class, maybe not).
Yeah, I've missed my serotonin, too.
Is Database the full name of Data from Startrek: The Next Generation?
Yeah, that was a bit obscure (although not as much as my Moonraker reference!). I was actually referring to the Simpsons character who you may know best from the Poochy episode:
Database: Uhh yeah, this one is for Mr. Simpson. In the Itchy and Scratchy CD-rom game, is there any way to reach the third level of the dungeon without finding the wizard key?
Homer: What the hell are you talking about?
Say... have you read Rousseau's Emile? I'm supposed to this weekend, but somehow I'd rather be working on my papers...
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