I’ve begun working on an important novel called, 𝘋𝘦𝘣’𝘴 𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘥. The story focuses on Deb going to her shed and looking at old tools and other belongings. 800 pages. No plot. No dialogue except for one moment when Deb grunts at a leaf blower.
Fascist pedophiles and authoritarian regimes got you feeling down? Well, don’t give up hope just yet because Canada negotiated with China to lessen tariffs on canola seed! Everything is going to be ok. Picture Mark Carney dancing, soaked in canola oil. Never give up.
Education Update: I heard the following exchange between my students at my college:
“How are finals going?”
“Yo, bro, I’m fucked, bro.”
That’s poetry, Josh.
Teaching update: A student took a semi-concealed call right before my literature class to tell another student who was on the way that there was no pop quiz. It was like Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol.
Contemporary Literature: “The characters in my first novel are, like me, doing an MFA at a prestigious college. It’s about their trials and tribulations as they, like me, do an MFA at a prestigious college.”
Today on the subway, two young people in their 20s started singing together, and I said, "Don't fucking sing" louder than I meant to and they stopped singing and I felt bad and now the children are sad and music is dead.
Organize the class based on the size of the students' heads. Lecture on whether head size determines intelligence. Wait until the end to say it doesn't then whisper, "However, there is a small positive correlation." Explain the word "correlation" to the kid with the smallest head