Sorry for the looooooong departure from the blog, I had a three week Easter Holiday which I spent travelling around England and Wales (jealous yet? Have I mentioned that I only have one written final this semester too?).
After I got back Sunday night I threw myself into a paper on Shamanism in the Archaeological Record that I was working on. It’s a first year class at York St. John and the lecturer asked that we use at least 4 academic sources and, because I am something of a bastard (more on that later, I promised), I decided to be over the top academic. I admit that slogging through a journal article on Cognitive Evolution in The Cambridge Archaeological Review after three weeks of doing nothing but looking at pretty sunsets and playing hide and seek in old Roman Forts was a bit of a brain gang-bang, but I got through it and properly cited it and everything.
What will I be working on this evening for the two Calvin courses I am taking this semester? Why, I shall be writing a letter to Charles I of England summarizing the Grand Remonstrance. I shall be writing a letter to a dead guy summarizing something that he read in his own lifetime and disregarded. I could deal with answering a query like “Could the civil war have been avoided if Charles had made the changes Parliament wanted?” but I just cannot bring myself to write a letter to a dead historical figure like I’m in grade school again.
But if you go to Calvin College you are quite used to jumping from wading through dense journal articles and other way hard stuff and then that same day doing something similar to what your nephew is struggling with in second grade. My freshman year I went from my five credit greek class (which had myself and the rest of my class balancing the pros and cons of becoming biochem majors) and wrestling with the subleties of the Genetive case to going to Prelude and discussing the all important questions in modern Christianity: chief among them, “If Christianity were a parking garage where would you be parked?” and “What if your career is not your vocation?”
I almost failed Prelude because I admitted that I care little for parking garages and that I would rather be going back to what I am at college to learn (mainly the Genetive case), thank you very much random ass bank employee who teaches this class and wonders aloud whether his watching “American Chopper” will cause his three year old to grow up to be a felon.
Its maddening, frustrating beyond words and I really haven’t found a way to cope with it during my four years, other than being overly snarky.