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Apr. 11th, 2011 12:40 amI have been going through my things like a madwoman this weekend, largely because my closet is so much smaller than I remember it being. So too my drawers have things in them that I don't remember putting there, and my desk remains covered in manuals for computer games I no longer own (among other things). I also came across several notebooks and folder from college. In one of them was this piece of paper from my Spring 2008 satire class, taught by Professor Goldgar. (I am sure it will shock you to hear that with my stunning lack of wit or ability to understand its intricacies, I didn't do well in this class.)
The sheet contains instructions of things not to do when writing papers for the class, written as only Professor Goldgar could have. Despite my lack of success with satire - I'll sit around enjoying it, thanks, but writing it will have to be left to others - and despite the nature of the instructions, I found myself smiling as I read it. I can't really remember his voice, but I remember him, and I remember the class, and I remember better times that I would sometimes kill to be able to return to.
So because I don't need the paper but don't want to lose the content, I'm transcribing it.
( Professor Goldgar was a small, ancient, crotchety man who really liked the word 'barbaric'. )
The sheet contains instructions of things not to do when writing papers for the class, written as only Professor Goldgar could have. Despite my lack of success with satire - I'll sit around enjoying it, thanks, but writing it will have to be left to others - and despite the nature of the instructions, I found myself smiling as I read it. I can't really remember his voice, but I remember him, and I remember the class, and I remember better times that I would sometimes kill to be able to return to.
So because I don't need the paper but don't want to lose the content, I'm transcribing it.
( Professor Goldgar was a small, ancient, crotchety man who really liked the word 'barbaric'. )
