English 222

This class is killing me. It's like i'm not even here. I've given up on trying to read the material, and i like to pretend that we don't have any homework. This of course is not true as my grade insists on telling me. So i am bearing this as best i can This is my major after all, but man its hard to appreciate some of this stuff. I for one believe that old literature should be known and not read. I only need to know enough about Sir Gaiwan to understand an allusion to him. That statement will be the death of no less than three english professors.

And that's what i like about english: its power. Really the only thing i don't like about his class is that we read the material and he explains it to us. He wants a discussion, but his definition of discussion is him presenting his ideas while we supply him with facts when he asks for them. "When did Virginia Woolf write 'A Room of One's own?' Good. Let me tell you about it." It'd be easier to bear if i had a cookie. Wyatt brought them for us to eat during his presentation, and they are sitting forgotten at the front of the class.

Ending #1 What i like in an english assignment: Read this. Think about it. Analyze it. Take something to it and bring something away from it. Then tell me what you learned Tell me your ideas. His assignments: Learn about an author. Find the facts: his life, his death, his works. We can't disagree on that.

Ending #2 It's funny. He always looks and me strangely when i make a comment on the text. He doesn't like to call on me anymore.

Ending #3 I think I'm going to steal a box of cookies.