|English? Whataya gonna do with that? PART I
||[Aug. 21st, 2006|08:59 pm]
|||||Karma Karma Karma Karma Karma Chameleon||]|
“I learned a lot in college, the very least of it in the classrooms.” – Stephen King, Hearts In Atlantis
I was planning on writing up a groundbreaking, insurgent statement on the college institution—some last-minute bitching before I tote my bachelor-degree self away from this campus once and for all. But as I rub up against the glossy banner that marks the finish line (I don’t graduate for a week, and could conceivably still fail The Works of Stephen King, my final class, but I’m close enough, brother, to say I’ll be gettin’ the diploma), I think I’ll focus on the positives. After all, no one wants to hear my thoughts on the “college institution.” That’s boring shit (and Janice Moliterno didn’t raise no stone-faced dullard), so fuck it. I enjoyed my time here, and despite any ill feelings, I can’t say I regret very much.
So here I am. The old Finish Line. Several people cheering, and one or two even dumped water on my head during the stretch run. Of course, most people in the audience don’t give much of a shit. Oh, and look behind me. Isn’t that the rusted old College Algebra hurdle back there? Talk about shitty. And look at all the kiddies trying to clamber over it this semester. Oh, and that revolting motherfucker Earth Science is back there too, and it’s scheduled at 7:45 am. Fun, fun, fun, as the Beach Boys said.
Okay, so no more race metaphors. You have my promise. Solemn promise, okay? But four fucking years, man. I had to have gathered something substantial, right? After 130 or so credits, if my brain hasn’t developed a few new creases, don’t I get a refund? I’m sure my receipt is here somewhere . . .
Well, back to the quote from Mr. King, which is one of my favorites. How he learned more out of class than in. Yeah, I hear ya Stevey. And while I took away a lot from the more hands-on courses—creative writing classes, media production classes, my acting class—any growth (if there was any, let’s be honest and note my constant and unyielding immaturity) would have been . . . where?
I’m begging the awful and cheesy question of “what I learned” in the past period of my life. Jesus Christ, it’s one step above “What I Did On My Summer Vacation.” So I won’t go there. At least not completely. I see no need to chronicle all my lessons. But, hey. I’m sure different from this time in Oh-Two, and not just in terms of long hair n beard. So what gives?
Well, to start, I never really considered, when I was a freshman, that I’d actually graduate. Not that I figured I’d fail or anything; it’s more like when winter or spring break begins, and you don’t give an ounce of shit of thought to its end, because all you know is you’re on break, and you’re gonna sit on your arse and do nothing for-fucking-ever. So in a way, college was like one giant winter/spring/summer break. I had no concept of time, stayed out late, slacked off in any form of a “job,” and downloaded songs. It’s sad, but I’ve put more thought and time into the organization of my music library than many classes.
So I conclude this with a ‘To Be Continued,’ like in those cheesy TV shows. Firstly, because I’ve rambled on too much already (maybe Janice Moliterno raised a stone-faced dullard after all), and secondly because I need some time to think about what I really did learn these four years. I tell you what, it wasn’t College Fucking Algebra. And while I make no promises in regards to what truths I reveal about myself (like any soul habitually peruses this anyway), I insure you it will not be cheesy, sentimental, etc. In short, the antithesis of whatever dumbo they scheduled to speak at the ceremony on Saturday, who will probably discuss their internships, their fraternity/sorority, their dead family members, the teachers whose dicks they sucked, and the company whose dick they will be sucking for the next thirty years.