Today I was sitting in my bed, mind completely blank for once, staring at a part of my wall where the sunlight was flickering here and there. And I thought, “This is nice.”
And then a memory materialized in my head and I started laughing really hard. It was one of those memories that feels new, because I hadn’t worn it down by thinking about it too much. I knew right away that it was the first time I had thought about it since it had actually occurred.
It was in autumn of 2007. I was sitting in a lecture hall at the community college in my hometown, waiting for my sociology teacher to show up.
This man was amazing. I still think about him sometimes, because he was so god damn weird and real. He’d probably be my hero, if I had heroes. (I wonder if he’s dead yet?)
Anyway, on this day he was a little late, which was unusual. That dude was almost always on time. Eventually he did show up, and when he did, his signature Hawaiian shirt was buttoned incorrectly and he looked sweaty and frazzled and crazy. He approached the podium at the front of the room, slammed his briefcase down on top and popped it open to remove a single piece of chalk. He then approached the chalkboard and wrote, in enormous, frenzied letters,
CIVILIZATION HAS FAILED
He threw the chalk down on the carpet and spun around and put his hands on his hips, breathing heavily. “You got that?!” he said.
A girl in the front row raised her hand.
“Yes?! What?!” he said.
“But what does it mean?” said the girl.
“It means this thing—this fuckin’ thing, whatever it is,” he whirled his hand around wildly, “has been nothing less than an unmitigated god damn disaster since day one, and it’s finally over.” And with that he stormed out of the room, muttering that class was cancelled.