Rainy Season

I have finished lecturing. I have graded all final exams, essays, and late assignments. I have computed and fudged and inflated all course grades. I have submitted course grades. I have ignored all student emails asking me, “What did I make on the final?” or, “Why did I make a (insert grade here)?” I shall continue to ignore such emails, especially from the ones that keep track of their requests: “This is my second request for my final exam grade.” The proper and professional response to all such requests: “Fuck you!”

One of the local colleges that employs me is offering a seminar on exceptional customer service, geared toward all facets of the education “experience.” However, because I do not offer a service, I refuse to attend such a travesty. I would love for one person from campus to ask me what I thought of this program. My proper and professional response would be, “I have no need for training in customer service because I do not have customers. I have students. Students are not customers; they are products of my education and ability to teach. They are the results of my ability to stretch their experience and challenge them to use their minds critically. I am the gatekeeper to the Ivory Tower, not the clerk behind a counter ensuring they had a good time or got their money’s worth out of my class.” I would follow this diatribe with an off-handed “Fuck you!”

No one can imagine how burnt out I am from this semester and all of its nonsense. But I am so much closer to being done with my degree that it is difficult to enjoy fully the festering anger I still feel toward those who would rather I fail. My last tasks to work through over the next academic year: to complete the dissertation project and defend it, to find suitable employment, to publish a couple of articles as well as the edited volume, and to supplement my teaching portfolio with PHIL 2316 Ancient Philosophy.

Those who know me—or at least those you know the real me—will be interested to learn that the city of Arlington, Texas, is going to re-erect Norm Hines’ sculpture park Caelum Moor. They want to license the music I composed for my Caelum Moor album, at least for the opening celebration, as well as provide a venue where I can sell my CDs. That was some wonderfully surprising news that reached me over the past few days. I guess it is time to give my poor, tired web site a facelift.

Tomorrow I leave for a short, ten-day trip to Wiesbaden, Germany. I will try to keep my Tweets interesting and informative throughout my journey. Tschüss erstmal!