1. I can bring a fist-sized rock with me to the lectures.My Dear Friends and Readers, it is with a heavy heart that today I come before you, for today marks the beginning of my last weekend as a free person. With the coming of Monday I shall take up the shackles of slavery and enter the stronghold of oppression as I begin my first day of schooling at the University of Wisconsin Fox Valley.
The confines of my normal literary style are too limited to properly express the overarching horror of this fell occasion, and I, therefore, find myself turning to poetic verse as a means of properly conveying to you the sorrow and terror I feel in the face of this hopeless, destructive situation.
From everywhere and nowhereNow, although the situation is admittedly hopeless in the extreme, I am by nature an optimist and, therefore, refuse to give into the brainwashing or the oppression. I am determined to endure, and I have come up with several strategeries to do just that.
My silent screams echo across the ether
Why does school suck to such a high degree
If you had any pity
You would take a sledgehammer to my brain
It might feel better than the agony
I am about to endure
Ah Ah Ah the pain
1. I can bring a fist-sized rock with me to the lectures.
I has occurred to me that a good way to combat intense pain is to smash your leg with a rock. This will help you focus your mind on one concentrated area of pain instead of being overwhelmed by the agony all over your body. So, when my Philosophy 101 teacher starts droning on about the myth of the human soul and I feel the agony start to grip my limbs I can just smash that rock into my knee and...problem solved.
The two drawbacks are, of course, the future knee surgery and the present prevention of in-lecture slumber.
2. I can pretend I suffer from Tourette’s syndrome.
You can’t tell me that a little echolalia won’t liven up an otherwise tedious discussion of the social impact of Nicholas Nichleby on the decade of 1840.
I would, however, run the risk that Georges Gille de la Tourette might rise from his grave and smack me.
3. I can think about Matt Drudge.
It seems to me that the best way to combat the basics of English Composition or the Jude Law wannabe art models is to simply avoid them altogether. As the professor drones on about writing bibliographies in the internet age, I can think about Mr. Internet himself. As I’m forced to spend three hours staring at and drawing a naked model who obviously thinks he’s the prettiest thing since Rock Hudson, I can day dream about He of the Dreamy Brown Eyes, Cute Crooked Chin, and Adorable Accent.
Of course, that leaves me to depart my classes and awaken to a Drudge-less existence. Will the withdrawal be too much?
Even taking the drawbacks into consideration, I think that my plans for survival offer a great deal more hope and peace than simply sitting through the lectures and trying to get good grades like most students attempt to do. I am feeling increasingly confident that I will survive the current semester and still be healthy enough to write this blog when the next four months have reached an end. However, as do all warriors, I welcome your encouragement and praise, and I hope that you will support me over the coming months of struggle. And, may God go with me and grant strength to my soul.