In one of my courses, we’ve spent the last couple of weeks talking about Descartes’ Discourse on Method and Meditations. The students have been busy writing some responses to the reading. Just a moment ago, as I was grading one student’s paper, I was wondering why he continually referred to the thought of “Dick Hart.” Jarring as it was, it took me a moment, but the student meant, of course, Descartes. Come on, just open the fucking book (or at least look at the goddamn cover) before submitting written work! I mean really. All in all: simultaneously hysterical and horrifying.
Can’t make this stuff up, really….
After a good guffaw the true pathos of that post set in and all i have left are groans and tears…
Dick Hart, midwestern proctocologist.
I always tell students they have to do their part and I’ll do mine. As students, part of their responsibility is to you know, do the reading, come to class, or come to class and not fall asleep (although I just let sleeping students sleep–not my problem, although if it happens when I’m being observed by the college foremen, then I have to wakey wakey because it reflects poorly on my “classroom management” ability.) and I will show up on time, teach the material and answer any kinds of questions etc. This student clearly doesn’t have the goddamn book (a basic requirement of the class), doesn’t take very good notes, and hasn’t been reading. So, I’ll have a little chat with the student that will accomplish little in my experience, but I have to hope this time the student will turn it around. So, it’s just “part of the job” as they say…
I hate to think what he’ll do with ‘Kant’ later.
The first time I taught sociological theory I got a paper informing me, based on my lectures, that according to Marx “religion is the opius of madness.” Which isn’t far wrong, but still. One of the reasons I don’t lecture much any more.