We discussed The Autobiography of an Ex-Coloured Man in American Lit. class on Thursday.
He started off asking us what genre it was in, what else we had read that was similar. Met with silence, he ventriloquized: “No, I have never read anything like this. Leave me alone you bad bad man.”
We talked about experiential learning versus systematic pedagogy. The narrator of this book plays the piano brilliantly but gets so emotional that midway through a piece he would throw himself into his mother’s arms, sobbing. Michael says for him it’s the electric bass, 2/3 of the way through “Anarchy in the U.K.”....
We talked about power and arbitrariness. “Why did you have to write a paper due last Friday? Because I said so.” I wish i could come up with words to describe the tone.
We talked about NYC as enchanting, bewitching. “Witchery is something we should all be careful with -- no offense to any Wiccans in the room.” I love that it came out as just a matter-of-fact thing, not a “Oops, must be sure not to offend anyone because we’re PC here.”
Want. To. Shag. Senseless.
"What the hell are you doing?" She screamed, still unable to completely grasp what she'd seen.
Everyone winced at the obnoxious sound of her voice. "Um, kissing my boyfriend?" Xander offered. Willow, Tara and Spike all smirked as Buffy's mouth dropped further.
"Boyfriend?" She shouted, even louder than before.
Xander closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself more strength. "Yeah, you know, male person you spend time with, care for-"
"Shag senseless on a regular basis?" Spike interjected.(Bad fic; no biscuit. But a great line.)