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Trouble looming

Fully half of my Shakespeare class was truant today. How do they expect to learn about the relationship between Sir John Falstaff and Prince Hal, if not from our stalwart lecturer?

The more I attend his class, the more respect I gain for the professor, whose name I still don’t know. Consider the evidence. 1) Pipe smoking, which we’ve been over. Pipe smoking is bad-ass. 2) Refusal to give credence to the dimmer students’ half-witted interpretations of the text. No bullshit accepted under any circumstances. To someone who’s taken a number of English courses from instructors for whom no answer is wrong, regardless of its idiocy, this is a welcome change. 3) Good humor in the face of annoying classmate whose name I don’t know. Anyone registered for the course knows who I’m talking about – there’s one in every class. In the words of my friend James from the class: “You can’t kill them all.” 4) Perseverance in teaching despite obvious advanced age and incipient decrepitude. He wouldn’t be there, in his state, unless he really enjoyed it.

For all these reasons, it saddens me to see over half the class skip simply because there are no quizzes on Thursdays. Let’s pull it together here, people, shall we? It’s only week three. If I can make a 10:30 class, everyone can.

I’m signing out until Monday at around midnight, when my graphics project is due. My partner for said project dropped the class due to unfamiliarity with C++, leaving me to complete it on my lonesome, and I’m feeling the pressure. Between that, reading Julius Caesar, my short story assignment, my column deadline, and partying hardy for Bryan’s birthday tomorrow night, it will be some sort of miracle if you hear from me before the early hours of Tuesday.

In the meantime, please accept this story about scrabble with my kindest regards.

Posted in Musings.

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