Tuesday, November 15, 2005

empty

I should be reading Slavoj Zizek's The Sublime Object of Ideology. I can only define two words in his title. (Hint: one is an article, one is a preposition.) Actually, I really enjoy it when I'm reading it, at least compared to Benjamin or Levinas, but then I put the book down and can't remember what I've read. It's an exercise in futility, one that I will be repeating until 3:00, when class starts and I sit in the back row, staring at the beautiful head of the tall, beautifully-dressed guy who sits in front of me. But for the next eight or so minutes, I'm going to let myself blog.

Thank you for all the congrats. I really am excited to teach 218--although I'm terrified of teaching short fiction. I don't write short fiction; I don't have the attention span. What I am is a very good reader of short fiction (of anything, really, as long as it's not Zizek). I'm hoping that will carry me through. Oh, and that Master Fob and Tolkien Boy will let me ask stupid questions when they're discussing each other's fiction. (My comments are usually "Wait. Do we know this character?" and "Hey, TB, you missed a comma." Actually, it's usually, "TB, get rid of this comma. It's unnecessary.")

In other news, there is no other news. My visiting teacher (who I suprisingly like) stopped by for a chat yesterday. She kept asking for news and I kept telling her I had nothing to tell her. My life is school and teaching and whatever movie I choose to anesthetize myself with. (Last night it was The Company. I love dance movies. This makes no sense. I can't dance. Much.)

I've paused too many times and am reaching the eight minute mark. Nothing profound to say. Only that. . . ooh. Final story of the day. SH (my 518 professor and the professor I'll be TAing for) thought that my poem "things incommon" was an Icarus poem. I actually liked the idea--I've been thinking about wings, courtesy of Miss K--and so "things incommon" is currently an Icarus poem. I'm taking it to poetasters tonight. Fingers crossed, they'll trash it and it will become something real.

3 comments:

Eternal Youth of Antiquity said...

Walter Benjamin seems like a better choice to me...although, by the time this critical theory class is over, I may feel differently!

KapkaVictim said...

Trash theory!

Also, I'll give you fiction lessons in eight ten-minute courses through mail. I hear Dr. Jorge's son has a step-by-step process.

Tolkien Boy said...

Huh. You, and your excessive, fear of the artfully placed, comma.

 

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