Today was about shit. Nothing else. Shit. That's it. Shit.
And dead pre-baby babies. Depending where you come down on the whole philosophical debate about pre-baby babies, of course.
Shit and dead pre-baby babies. Entire revolutions have erupted from less.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Friday, November 09, 2007
Hold fast, comrades!
In the grand tradition of the sectarian Marty Luther, I posted the Averments against Parson Tutu* not with a nail on the Papist's front door, but in a more mundane manner, by hand delivering the Complaint to the offices of the Bishop of Scholars in the early morning hours of All Hallows Eve. It was a bright sunny day with crisp, cool air and the strains of Mick and the Boys singing about Sympathy for a subversive by the name of Lucifer rang in my ears as I sallied forth to complete my task. As the primary author of this accusatory missive, I took it upon myself to also ensure its proper delivery. I took this matter very seriously, and in keeping with the mode of True Religion, I was deliberate about its execution. The original Complaint and a copy were personally presented to the Bishop's clerk, whereupon the appropriate stamps and marks of certification were attached. Further, I presented another copy to the Clerk of Clerics to be delivered directly to Parson Tutu himself. This is where I got into a little trouble.
Upon returning to my domicile I posted messages to by comrades-in-arm sadvising them of the Complaint's delivery to the Bishop of Scholars and the Parson. Within a very short time, my servants returned with urgent letters from a few of my colleagues, alarmed and despondent about the Complaint's delivery to the Parson. It seems they were not clear on my intentions to execute this service and were quite anxious about the effect his receipt of our allegations which questioned the soundness of his pedagogy would have in our sessions on Estates the following week. These peers of mine were worried the Parson might somehow treat us differently, or his mood would be afflicted in some manner which would infect the atmosphere of his seminar with animosity and discord, perhaps directed specifically towards the signatories of the Complaint.
Struggling to maintain my composure, I sought to address these concerns with tact, empathy and patience, all the while absolutely seething underneath the hastily constructed facade of concern and understanding. First, I thought their concerns very misplaced. It was the view of these alarmist that Parson Tutu would become aggressive and decidedly antagonistic upon our next meeting. Second, they were concerned about how this action might in some manner compromise the Administration's ability to respond and react to our claims.
In my opinion, they couldn't have been more wrong. In the first place, by providing the good Parson with notice of our complaints, he would realize that he is now under the microscope, so to speak, and any further conduct which might be even remotely considered questionable would be subject to severe scrutiny. Secondly, it was not an antagonistic move to put him on notice, but rather it provided him the time and opportunity to prepare his own defense. Sort of considerate on our part, I thought. Third, I honestly do not see how the actions of the Bishops would be prejudiced in any way simply by our providing the Parson with a copy of the letter, which he would most assuredly get from the Bishops at some point in this action we've now commenced. And finally, WHAT THE FUCK WAS OUR INTENT AT THE OUTSET?!?!?!??!
We had, as a group, decided that we had had enough. After weeks and weeks of sub-standard instruction and derisive treatment by a faculty member with no tenure and questionable competence, we were compelled to take action, not only on our own behalf, but for other scholars who would follow in our tutelage. After much time and discussion deliberating as to the most appropriate and effective course of action, we, or rather I, drafted the Complaint. Each of my comrades were to have reviewed it thoroughly, and like those famous old men with the breeches and white wigs, we each affixed our mark to the document signifying our unity and commitment to our cause. So my question: Did you not think this all the way through??
Seriously, did you think that somehow the Powers that Be were going to not take some action in response? Did it not occur to you that Parson Tutu would be given a copy of the Complaint to provide his own response? And did you seriously think that there weren't going to be some feathers that got ruffled?? I mean really, pull your head out of your fucking asses and grow some balls! I realize that for the three alarmists, that is anatomically impossible, but at least TRY to demonstrate some courage in the face of adversity. Talk about having the courage of your convictions...
The ironic part: The loudest whiner of the three likes to close her correspondence with this quote: "Well behaved women rarely make history," or some such bullshit. Give me a motherfucking break, you insipid twit.
Well, it's been a week and a day since delivery of the Complaint. In that time, we've attended two sessions of Estates and the Parson's attitude and lesson quality have both significantly improved; none of the comrades have broken ranks (yet), and I just received notice from the Bishop of Scholars confirming receipt of our Complaint, which has been shared with the Archbishop. I don't expect anything formal for the next couple of weeks, but suffice to say, we're not seen the end of this parade yet!
Upon returning to my domicile I posted messages to by comrades-in-arm sadvising them of the Complaint's delivery to the Bishop of Scholars and the Parson. Within a very short time, my servants returned with urgent letters from a few of my colleagues, alarmed and despondent about the Complaint's delivery to the Parson. It seems they were not clear on my intentions to execute this service and were quite anxious about the effect his receipt of our allegations which questioned the soundness of his pedagogy would have in our sessions on Estates the following week. These peers of mine were worried the Parson might somehow treat us differently, or his mood would be afflicted in some manner which would infect the atmosphere of his seminar with animosity and discord, perhaps directed specifically towards the signatories of the Complaint.
Struggling to maintain my composure, I sought to address these concerns with tact, empathy and patience, all the while absolutely seething underneath the hastily constructed facade of concern and understanding. First, I thought their concerns very misplaced. It was the view of these alarmist that Parson Tutu would become aggressive and decidedly antagonistic upon our next meeting. Second, they were concerned about how this action might in some manner compromise the Administration's ability to respond and react to our claims.
In my opinion, they couldn't have been more wrong. In the first place, by providing the good Parson with notice of our complaints, he would realize that he is now under the microscope, so to speak, and any further conduct which might be even remotely considered questionable would be subject to severe scrutiny. Secondly, it was not an antagonistic move to put him on notice, but rather it provided him the time and opportunity to prepare his own defense. Sort of considerate on our part, I thought. Third, I honestly do not see how the actions of the Bishops would be prejudiced in any way simply by our providing the Parson with a copy of the letter, which he would most assuredly get from the Bishops at some point in this action we've now commenced. And finally, WHAT THE FUCK WAS OUR INTENT AT THE OUTSET?!?!?!??!
We had, as a group, decided that we had had enough. After weeks and weeks of sub-standard instruction and derisive treatment by a faculty member with no tenure and questionable competence, we were compelled to take action, not only on our own behalf, but for other scholars who would follow in our tutelage. After much time and discussion deliberating as to the most appropriate and effective course of action, we, or rather I, drafted the Complaint. Each of my comrades were to have reviewed it thoroughly, and like those famous old men with the breeches and white wigs, we each affixed our mark to the document signifying our unity and commitment to our cause. So my question: Did you not think this all the way through??
Seriously, did you think that somehow the Powers that Be were going to not take some action in response? Did it not occur to you that Parson Tutu would be given a copy of the Complaint to provide his own response? And did you seriously think that there weren't going to be some feathers that got ruffled?? I mean really, pull your head out of your fucking asses and grow some balls! I realize that for the three alarmists, that is anatomically impossible, but at least TRY to demonstrate some courage in the face of adversity. Talk about having the courage of your convictions...
The ironic part: The loudest whiner of the three likes to close her correspondence with this quote: "Well behaved women rarely make history," or some such bullshit. Give me a motherfucking break, you insipid twit.
Well, it's been a week and a day since delivery of the Complaint. In that time, we've attended two sessions of Estates and the Parson's attitude and lesson quality have both significantly improved; none of the comrades have broken ranks (yet), and I just received notice from the Bishop of Scholars confirming receipt of our Complaint, which has been shared with the Archbishop. I don't expect anything formal for the next couple of weeks, but suffice to say, we're not seen the end of this parade yet!
* I know I referred to him as the Bishop of Estates previously, and that is in fact the subject matter he is charged with instructing, but he is hardly worthy of the title Bishop given his tenure and the questions of competence at issue.
PS: A shout out to my boy, The Enabler, who's birthday is today. Schloop, you cock-gobbler!
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