Postcards from the Imagination

I had to drop one of my most interesting courses, Beyond Tradition/Experiemental Arts. Turns out they really do count French twice, and I'm not allowed to take six courses. I'm keeping the books though... 

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French is going much better than I expected. All summer I stressed myself out about not having the time to brush up--needlessly, it seems. I took my first test yesterday and I think I aced it. The only downside is that, because it's an immersion course, I keep trying to think in French. But with such a limited vocabulary, I spend a lot of time wading around in a banalities. Ce n'est pas bon pour ma poésie!

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Seth came home the night before last with Best-Selling Jewish Porn Films and Joshua Clover's The Totality for Kids. Are we trying to drive ourselves into the poor house buying books? Apparently we are. Fortunately gas was only $2.29 per gallon yesterday when I filled the tank. If prices remain where they are, I estimate I'll save roughly $60, or 3-4 books of poetry per month on my commute down to Boston.

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Speaking of the commute, I can't take more than another few months of this traffic. The only alternative--driving down to Lowell, catching the commuter train to North Station, taking the E line to Park St. then the dreaded B line to Boston College--would increase my daily travel time to 4.5 hours and cost at least as much driving does now. American captialism has really dropped the ball where transportation is concerned. You already know that, but I like saying it. American capitalism has really dropped the ball...

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Whoops! A very kind soul just pointed out the mistake I made with the French in the draft I posted yesterday. It was a really dumb one. Perhaps my confidence regarding the test I took is misplaced. Doh!

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I'd like to start a list of highlights from my reading. I was going to begin this morning with a poem from The Totality for Kids, but I'm out of time. The poem is available online through FindArticles.com, but they've dropped a big advertisement into the middle of it. I'd rather ask Mr. Clover for permission to reproduce the poem than link to the shady ad.

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I feel as though reading the aforementioned book is solving, or at least clarifying, something for me that I probably won't be able to articulate for some time yet. Something about pushing beyond the ironic mirror and modernity. I'll need to read more and keep thinking about it. God, I resent people who have time for poetry and are oh-so-bored by most of it. There, I said it.