“I prefer to view my personal universe from the heliocentric model.”
The others rolled their eyes, a manifest of the inward groans felt at such a strain to be sophisticated. Lord, even in their humor they flaunted something of their “brightness”. It was nauseating, the outright admission of this egotistical, narcissistic facet of identity that of course is the only thing that would merit spending any money or, for that matter, time, at such an institution as this. One must have an awful lot of delusions about himself to set himself in a university.
(Not everyone is made to be a thinker, but it sure is fun to make believe.)
Apparently I had been too silent. The girls paused the conversation briefly. Their eyes were expectant.
But silence, which is avoided like the plague here, caused the conversation to relapse.
“We could at least acknowledge the disparities. That’s all I’m saying.”
Oh really, is that all?
“Oh please, what you’re asking for is a juxtaposition of circumstances –”
“The views are antipodal, regardless of the state or ‘circum–‘”
“Don’t SAT word me.”
“What — your 2300 didn’t teach you the word antipodal?”
They all giggled at that, smiled eagerly, like they ought to be exchanging SAT scores in a ceremonious disclosure akin to the sharing of secret crushes at a slumber party.
It’s a color-by-number, this place. Find out a score, fill in the outline of an individual with a corresponding opinion.
It’d be so delightful to SAT word them. Mention how absurd it is that here erudition seems to come before nutrition and volition and joy. (Perhaps joy is too simple a word for them to comprehend.)
Has anyone noticed how it’s always the shortest words that contain the most? Cisterns of profundity.
But I am sick of metaphors.
I am sick of words.
I am sick of all of this “knowledge” that makes it so easy to avoid thought.
What have you thought that hasn’t been thought before? What have you learned that hasn’t been taught you?
I am sick.
(Because a single midnight rambling On Education just wouldn’t cut it.)