Xanthippi dumping night soil on
hubby
Socrates as he thinks on
these things.
Prerequisite to the Beginning of
Liberal Art
My goal & aim in all classes is to under
cut & undermine & confuse the issues,
subvert & tangle & twist what might
otherwise be measurable out comes,
taunt & tweak, mock & ridicule, spank
in manners of speaking so that all my
students won’t know whether they’re
coming or going, selfish or unselfish
liberal or conservative, good or evil,
motivated or lazy: & down and down
we go, round and round we go, loving
the din that we spin, the spin that we’re
in under that old black magic called
liberal art.
Marriage of Heaven & Hell.
Presumptuously
emulating my hero
Socrates
and his toga & sandaled
cluster-bunch
wandering & wondering
thru the
groves of Academe years ago,
I quit
grading and correcting years and
years
ago. I quit assigning research
papers
and insisted students write in
a
conversational, even constellational,
non-linear
non-thesis-driven voice
years and
years and years ago.
My
courses are an “easy” A for some.
Confusing
for others. Non rigorous
in the
usual rigor-mortifying sense.
An early
morning “mind-fuck” one
feminist described
it last semester.
For some:
a delightful waste of time.
For
others: a waste of time—but still
and never
the less: an appreciated
break
from the books booking it and
dirty
looks of them other courses.
Trying to
build an ice cream parlor in
hell without
doing injustice to either
hot or cold—money
for nothing and
tricks
for free.
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