Tuesday, July 1, 2008

on college students

college students are both the most helpfully brilliant
and
naively stupid and laughable
members of society.

as someone ideologically trapped between liberalism and conservatism (some might say free within borders -- free i may be, one who has surrendered), i've found that at least one truth seems to shed some light on young, stupid, brilliant, drunk people's value to old, wise, boring sober people:

Living in a "college town" or near lots of universities is infinitely more enjoyable and culturally inspiring than not. people who want (or are forced by virtue of environment) to spend their time learning, do not really work. so they have time to make the world more interesting and enjoyable for those of us who have to drive for 45 minutes on a two lane road to a job that really doesn't interest us that much, spend the day typing, talking to people who can't solve problems a chimp could master, getting paid too little, driving an hour back home, eating a fried dinner, watching our gut grow slightly every week, watching "everybody loves raymond" reflect our, or our significant other's family life, going to sleep, waking up, taking the dog out, putting on uncomfortable clothes, shaving off whiskers that REALLY want to grow, .... you get the idea.

they give us late night pizza delivery guys that are too stoned to care if you tip them well, great remixes of old bjork tunes we forgot were mindblowing, new ways to think about pastries (???), phish concerts (no more, i suppose, but don't knock till you have... tried it), really great paintings that you can buy for 25 bucks and wait 75 years and sell for 56 bucks, conversations about kirilov (who else would know who kirilov is?), beer that you get to drink but their parents somehow indirectly paid for, good jokes about george lucas, EXTREMELY loud farts that wake everyone up by sound and put them back to sleep by odor, philosophers and physicists exchanging ideas and blows, fantastic bagel sandwiches wrapped in tinfoil for lunch, and full attendance at shows that would otherwise go shamefully under-appreciated (kelly joe phelps, bela fleck and edgar meyer, glen hansard and marketa irglova).

thank you, philosophers and theoretical physicists in training. i will not ruin your current acid trip by ruining the suspense about the next chapter of your life. alright, yes i will: it's depressing, simply because it's not as good as the last one. but it's not really that bad. you'll realize that charlie rose is your idol, you wish you would've figured out how to get a job with 'globe trekker,' and you might even still not vote democratic. maybe. but you might.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

I will certainly not post this 56 times to help you gain your prize, and methinks your email was incoherent enough to confuse a laureate. I tend to agree with your claims, which are, collectively, the best argument yet for grad school- all of the thongs without any of the headaches.

Anonymous said...

This reminds me of 8/20/89:

A dance contest is hosted by famed Casey Kasem and held at the Max. Zack and Slater both try to obtain Kelly as a dance partner but Slater wins the honor. Zack goes with Jessie. Lisa has someone all lined up for the dance as well, but when she sprains her ankle he backs out. Screech agrees to dance with her in the contest even still.

Anonymous said...

Mihai Eminescu Făt-Frumos din tei

- Blanca, află că din leagăn
Domnul este al tău mire,
Căci născută eşti, copilă,
Din nevrednică iubire.

Mâini în schit la sfânta Ana
Vei găsi la cel din stele
Mângâierea vieţii tale,
Mântuirea feţei mele.

- Nu voi, tată, să usuce
Al meu suflet tânăr, vesel:
Eu iubesc vânatul, jocul;
Traiul lumii alţii lese-l.

Nu voi părul să mi-l taie,
Ce-mi ajunge la călcâie,
Să orbesc citind pe carte
În fum vânăt de tămâie.

- Ştiu mai bine ce-ţi prieşte,
Las' de-a lumii orice gând,
Mâini în zori de zi pleca-vom
Către schitul vechi şi sfânt.

Ea aude - plânge. Parcă
Îi venea să plece-n lume,
Dusă de pustie gânduri
Şi de-un dor fără de nume.

Şi plângând înfrână calul,
Calul ei cel alb ca neaua,
Îi netează mândra coamă
Şi plângând îi pune şeaua.

S-avântă pe el şi pleacă,
Păru-n vânturi, capu-n piept,
Nu se uită înainte-i,
Nu priveşte îndărăpt.

Pe cărări pierdute-n vale
Merge-n codri făr' de capăt,
Când a serei raze roşii
Asfinţind din ceruri scapăt.

Umbra-n codri ici şi colo
Fulgerează de lumine...
Ea trecea prin frunza-n freamăt
Şi prin murmur de albine;

În mijloc de codru-ajunse
Lângă teiul nalt şi vechi,
Unde-izvorul cel în vrajă
Sună dulce în urechi.

De murmur duios de ape
Ea trezită-atunci tresare,
Vede-un tânăr, ce alături
Pe-un cal negru stă călare.

Cu ochi mari la ea se uită,
Plini de vis, duioşi plutind,
Flori de tei în păru-i negru
Şi la şold un corn de-argint.

Şi-ncepu încet să sune,
Fermecat şi dureros -
Inima-i creştea de dorul
Al străinului frumos.

Părul lui i-atinge părul,
Şi atunci c-obrazul roş
Ea apleacă gene lunge
Peste ochii cuvioşi.

Iar pe buze-i trece-un zâmbet
Înecat, fermecător,
Care gur-abia-i deschide,
Cea uscată de amor.

Când cu totului răpită
Se-ndoi spre el din şele,
El înceată din cântare
Şi-i grăi cu grai de jele,

Ş-o cuprinde de călare -
Ea se apără c-o mână,
Însă totuşi lui se lasă,
Simte inima că-i plină.

Şi pe umărul lui cade
Al ei cap cu faţa-n sus;
Pe când caii pasc alături,
Ea-l privea cu suflet dus.

Numai murmurul cel dulce
Din izvorul fermecat
Asurzeşte melancolic
A lor suflet îmbătat.

Lun-atunci din codri iese,
Noaptea toată stă s-o vadă,
Zugrăveşte umbre negre
Pe câmp alb ca de zăpadă.

Şi mereu ea le lungeşte,
Şi urcând pe cer le mută,
Dar ei trec, se pierd în codri
Cu viaţa lor pierdută.

La castel în poartă calul
Stă a doua zi în spume,
Dar frumoasa lui stăpână
A rămas pierdută-n lume.

1875, 1 februarie

Anonymous said...

That was a great Saved by the Bell. I believe they dubbed the limp around dance the "Screech". Now they have dubbed the dirty sanchez the "Screech" How the times have changed , sigh.