Saturday, August 14

 

The Three Musketeers

 

Woody Allen says

you can’t believe them when they say

you’re good if you didn’t believe them

when they said you weren’t.  In my case,

it was the reverse.  I couldn’t say they didn’t know what

they were talking about when they said I wasn’t good enough

if I believed them when they said I graduated magna cum laude,

made Phi Beta Kappa, was an Outstanding Senior, and won

a University Fellowship to FSU.  If Tulane were right to accept me,

they were right to hassle me into quitting by failing me on my comps,

damning me with faint praise, giving me B’s instead of A’s

(in one case, giving me an F).  They must be right.  They were

the experts.  They were objective.  I was too close to it.

I had too much skin in the game.  I now think

they deliberately accepted more students

then they planned to graduate to get

the tuition money.  The matching funds.

Knowing they weren’t going to graduate us.

They were dealing in bad faith.

We were pawns in their turf wars.

We were cannon fodder.  Aristocrats don’t care

about the hoi polloi.  They were from Harvard.

We were from state schools, or the great books school

(St. John’s College).  Munro S. Edmonson learned to speak

fluent Trobriand by reading Malinowski’s field notes.

We heard him say so.  And fell out laughing.

That was it for us.  We disrespected him.

Me and Brenda and Larry Schlueter.

We were expelled like pork fat from a goose.

Projectile defecation.

 


 

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