tldr version: Insult was added to injury. Aestu is a fucked up person who hates his life.
I ate lunch and went to my next class. Insult was added to injury.
My next class was Middle Eastern Studies, taught by a very free-thinking Iranian-American gentleman. He has no tenure.
Last week, we were given the mid-term: to write a "critique" of two movies, one about the rise of Islam, the other about the rise of the Persian Empire. I took the assignment literally, or as it seemed to me, and wrote a critique. I first analyzed the themes of the movie, then criticized what I saw as the ridiculously pro-Persian slant of the second: I'd always learned the story from the Greek side, and he misinterpreted this as my being a Graecophile (the opposite would be more true). Thereafter he always made these obtuse references to Greek affairs in class, which naturally left me nonplussed.
He didn't like my paper and scrawed illegible stuff on all four margins, along all axes, and I could make out that he "would not accept it as the mid-term" and told me to do it again. The next day I asked him what he wanted. He registered frustration with me and I in turn was irreverent. I was particularly irritated because I had respected him. "You must be intolerable to live with. How do your roommates stand you? You drive yourself into the madhouse."
Afterward he seemed strangely conciliatory or reverential towards me. After the next class, I asked him, "Do you feel you've known me before?" I was surprised how right-on his estimate of me was. He didn't quite understand my meaning. What I had meant was whether he felt he saw in me something he had known in others.
Today we watched a movie about Lawrence of Arabia. After class he again wished to speak with me. I saw what was coming and I loathed it.
"Ethan, I want to apologize...I had no idea that you were...exceptional...and if so, I would have given you more leeway in your work."
He then did what a lot of people do, which angers me deeply, which was to treat me as a prodigy, as a young man with great promise. "You are a good person, you are civil, you are urbane." I felt very angry when he said this and replied, "I am a young man but I have lived many lives and heard this many times. No one sees all of me. I cannot visualize you as a young man running around with a Kalashnikov in Tehran 1979, and just so...you cannot see me for who I am. You have no idea how others see me." I said this in a flat, very polite monotone, but I was very, very angry. He smiled and nodded. I wondered how much I was getting through to him.
"You could go very far, you know...you might be doctorate material." I laughed. "No. I cannot do that. My father is blind and can never play baseball. My brother is 5'11" and despite his skill will never be in the NBA. And just so...I cannot be an academic. You go through life with certain limitations. I anger people. I offend people. I annoy people. I have no discipline, no study skills, I cannot function in institutions. I can't get the GPA I need."
"The best programs don't go by GPA alone..." He slowly said, "I would be honored to write you a letter of recommendation....You show up every day, you are committed..."
"This is the exception not the rule. I am here in this class because I have been singularly deficient in this regards and am here to boost my GPA. I xferred in and when you do that it resets your GPA, but you can't retake GE courses, so all the low-hanging fruit is picked, leaving only very difficult upper-div Greek courses, and I don't study well or show up consistently anyway."
"Well, what's your GPA?" "2.8" "Really? I thought you were going to say 4.0." He chuckled. I couldn't read his reaction at all. Did he not believe me, was he disillusioned, did he not care, what?
We walked down the hall. "What do you intend to do after college?" "I want to do civilian work in the war countries with the State Dept." "That's very regimented. I don't think that's for you." I saw his point, but... "You'd be surprised. I can do very well when clear boundaries are laid out. I've survived in very highly structured environments." This man had no idea. "Well...I think you should consider a doctorate. Listen to me. You need to find what you want to do, and do it. That is all, Ethan." "See you Tuesday." "See you."
I checked my device and received an email from "Persian Girl Tehran"; she wanted to get together. She had sat down at the cafeteria with me; I thought she was sweet and very intelligent, but I wanted nothing to do with her because I did not see the sort of darkness, anger, aggression that any girl I'd be interested in would have to have. She was just too sweet and innocent. No common ground.
Walking along, I caught sight of a well-tanned banana girl in tights with toned thighs and breasts. We stared at each other and kept walking opposite ways. I found her really hot, but - no common ground. How ironic the polisci dude and I have that much in common.
When I arrived at home I was very angry and sat down and wrote this. I actually don't mind bitches like the political science professor. It's the second sort that really gets to me - those who think I shit gold bricks. They are the ones who really leave me furious.
Ironically, on the bus home, I thought a bit and decided to do some things: tomorrow with nothing to do except wait for my landlord in the evening, who I threatened and extorted into agreeing to sign that,
Quote:
III. The landlord will, upon request, issue a letter of recommendation, acceptable to the tenant, establishing that Ethan Farber met his obligations as tenant, paid the rent monthly and on-time, and obeyed the laws of the land and terms of the lease while a tenant. They agree to abstain from making any verbal or written statement potentially deleterious to Ethan Farber's reputation or professional or residential prospects, except as required by law.
...I decided I'd go to a photographer and have my portrait taken. With WoW interfacing with Facebook now I decided to set that up, and start writing a blog rather than constantly shitting on the fubu forums.
Then I noticed Azelma's post.
I hate my life.
