Monday, August 28, 2006

Over summer break, my brother and his girlfriend told me of one of the professor at UofL; I think she taught some kind of theater class?

In any event, she was black and had some bizarre assignments, one of which was that, over the weekend, the students had to go to a "white" church and a "black" church (the one she assigned was her own) to see the differences between how white people treat religion and how black people do.

I was just imagining today what fun I could have with an assignment like that:

The sloping brows of the negroes were furrowed in an ape-like imitation of Christian devotion. Their thick lips pursed and trembled from, what would become clear in a moment, their imposed silence. Finally one cry broke the silence, and like a pack of dogs they all began howling one after the other, clapping their awkward limbs in the air like an oorang otan. The spectacle seemed fit more for the jungles of Africka from which they are barely removed than for the sanctity of the Lord's house.

The sweltering heat seemed to make no impression on them as they continued their dancing and hooting, though I myself was becoming quite dizzy -- I confess that the pungent odor of so many negroes thus congregated also contributed to my feeling ill. A quick glance showed me that though there was an air conditioner, it was in disrepair, the dust and rust telling me it had been abandoned, perhaps soon after the donor (most likely white) provided it; negroes are, after all, unable to use all but the simplest of tools -- anything more complicated than a bow is examined, and discarded when it is found to be unedible. I swear I could see teeth marks in the grime of the apparatus.

I am so going to get my ass kicked one of these days, but I would love to get to write that. Maybe if someone knows somebody taking that class, I could write it, and have them turn it in along with their own.

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