Today was my first class of HIST 338: History of Zionism. Judging by the course title alone, I was expecting at least a 7:1 ratio of Jews to people who don't know what zionism is and signed up for the course because they thought zion was from the Matrix and own countless hand-carved figurines of Morpheus(ME LOLZRITE?). I was right.
The professor started the class off by letting everyone say a little about themselves and why they were taking the class. A quick scan of the room revealed a field of geriatrics, and I expected their slow answers to be akin to "Well, funny story, I was fishing and....." I really think the whole "hey lets get to know each other in one line" thing is pretty lame and immediately starting thinking of some highschool-esque smartass comment that would immediately make everybody mark me as the douchebag for the semester. Instead I spent a good 30 seconds trying to think up a real reason for taking the course and some lies about myself.
The people down the left of my row started to say their reasons for taking the class.
"Hi, I'm soandso. I play *sport.* I'm a Jewish studies major."
"Hi, I'm *forgettablename.* Well, I'm a very devout Jew and wish to know the history of my fine culture before returning to Israel."
"Hey guys, Shalom, I'm Esther. I'm a Jew, my mother's a Jew, she studied Judaism and so now I'm a Jewish studies major insterested in my Jewish heritage and the origin of the Jewish state..... Jew"
It was the girl next to me's turn, and I could feel the sweet beads forming on my sweet black skin as I could not think of any good reason for me being in there.
"Hi guys! I'm Gertrude and I'm 76 years old and I"ve been addicted to methamphetamine for 20 years." Her husband slapped her in the face and let her know where she was. She continued, "Oh well, I like Jewish studies and ." she passed out.
It was my turn. I looked around the room with a smile, looking for some support; maybe a glimpse of someone else not having anything to say. Then I just blurted out, "Hi, I'm Alex. I'm here to learn the history of my enemy's state and their future organization strategies so I may crush them."
It didn't go over very well. One of the old men in the back tried to throw his shoe at me but he just passed out and watched Matlock. The professor laughed, though, so that's all that really matters.
Later in the class our professor was lecturing on about Herzl and what the course is about, and then he let out a huge sneeze, a little mucus present I believe. I said, "bless you," and he picked up the closest trash can and threw it at me screaming, "I DONT NEED BLESSINGS FROM YOUR CHRISTIAN GOD"
Towards the end of the class, my pen ran out of ink and I couldn't continue taking notes. Oh what a pickle, if I do say! I turned to my right to ask the young man seated there for a pen, but before I could open my mouth he spit at me and then kicked my chair.
This was odd.
I was forced to ask the professor if he had a pen. When I interuppted him, he thought I might have an interesting question to pose. When that question was, "Do you have a pen?" I was taken back by his simple and quiet, "yes." He walked over to me, pen in hand, with a smile on his face. So maybe the class started off rough, but now it was coming together. He took the pen up into a closed fist and jammed it down as hard as he could into my metacarpals(OR PALM, BUT MORE METACARPALS). I ran out of class crying and typed this.
cranked out at 1:09 AM | |
|template © elementopia 2003|