OCAD. give me a break.

<09:17 p.m.>sooo sooo good.

i would like to take this opportunity to rant about a certain class of mine, like anyone cares. This would be design history at O.C.A.D. as "instructed" by Robert Fones.

Okay, I realized this class was beneath me from word go and quickly began bringing in a host of stimuli to keep me awake and busy for the three hours that this class occupies. Stimuli including, but not limited to: some yarn to crochet a large blanket with, MacWorld, various other computer magazines, food (specifically channa roti from Island Foods but more likely hummus with extra hot sauce and a few pitas. PITAS!!) David Foster Wallace's 'Brief Interviews with Hideous Men', my Hello Kitty discman, stationary to compose letters to the following people: Michael, Christopher, Jason, Justin....

That said, i showed up for class today, all set to have an epiphany at the hands of Mr. Fucking I-can't-even-pronounce-Wagner-right, and alas, I was disapointed. Below I have prepared a list of quotes/dialogue that occured during the first 2 hours of the class. Also known as the only 2 hours I was there. The teacher is referred to as "brilliantine"

"Okay. Today I'm going to continue talking about modernism. (2 seconds later) I don't think we've talked about modernism before."

me: Not much of a continuation IS IT. (didn't hear me)

Then he says how he doesn't have our midterms back for us because it was really hard to grade them.

foreign pompous jerk guy: well eef eet meks you feel better eet was very hard to stoddy for eet too.

me: was it? (didn't hear me)

stupid girl: I found it was really easy to study for if you did it like that show, you know "doo doo doo doo.."(jeopardy theme)

brilliantine: Who Wants to Be A Millionaire?

me: JEOPARDY?!?! (heard me) Fucking MORONS. (didn't hear me)

Then he defines the word 'contingent.' (thanks!) and that's my cue to bust out the walkman.

Later on, between songs I hear him say something about modernity and then "...Modernism with a capital L" and it should be noted that while he *did* correct this mistake, it took him longer to do so than the average monkey.

After the cd ended for the second time, I decided to pay attention and gather some more joke fodder. It didn't take long. On the wall is a slide of some of Oskar Schlemmer's dance students from the Bauhaus.

Some girl: Yeah, I have a question about the dances? Like, I don't recognize any of the characters, are they all like...fictionous?
FICTIONOUS!!!!

Dude! Did her special ed teacher FORGET to teach her even the most basic of descriptive wordy-poos?

Then we watch a video of the dances (wherein, I presume, the girl, again, didn't recognize any of the "characters" as I believe this film was made before Disney's Stars on Ice)

video ends.
girl: Could you write down the dance teacher's name?
brilliantine: Yeah. OSKAR SCHLEMMER (on chalkboard) There might be an I in there somewhere. (checks notebook) nope. that's it.

Where the FUCK could there POSSIBLY ever exist and 'i'?!!!!

OSKAR fucking SCHLEMMER!!!

Then it was break time again and I bailed. Someone please remind me why I turned down Johns Hopkins?


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July 18 - 16 July 2007
Weekly recap. - 28 May 2007
That's Immaterial! - 25 May 2007
A Shalom to Arms! - 07 May 2007
YEAH RIGHT - 20 April 2007