Comme Des Automates

i don't know what the problem is. i had an eight o'clock french class last semester, and it had a hundred times more talk and interaction. so it can't be because it is at nine. it must be the people in my class. they are apparently a breed of mutes. it's like a couple of other people and i are carrying the whole class. and i feel so bad for my professor. i caught a glimpse of what it is like for her. we have to do presentations about chapters out of camus' l'etranger and ask questions to the class about themes and whatnot. it is a very unpleasant feeling to ask a question and have a group of people stare down at their desk like they are searching for some recondite truth in its fake-wood veneer. i can't imagine what it is like for her on a daily basis to have to constantly prod and poke at people, trying to elicit any sort of vocal or gestural response. they are like fucking robots. we are in college, people. enjoy yourselves, have a little fun in class. even if you absolutely detest the class, sitting there in mindless robot mode is only going to drag it out and make it worse. especially for me. ce n'était pas dificile. parlez!