Think about Dillard's statement. If it's true, that means that, by the time you were done reading the above passage, your psychological present changed. By the tenth word or so, you had gone from "I think Saint Marty is the greatest writer since Shakespeare" to "I really am hungry for pizza." Or something else. You get the point. All our minds are bankside sycamores, resting on slopes, ready to slide into the river.
In about 20 minutes, I have to go teach my composition class. We have entered that dreaded phase of the semester: research paper time. That's right. For three hours tonight, I have to somehow engage my students in the topics of doing research, documenting sources, and learning the new guidelines for MLA citation.
If that sounds like an impossible task, let me assure you: it is. I perform all kinds of tricks to keep my students interested, although I have stopped short of playing soft core porn in class. I make them listen to spoken word poetry. Hold competitions for extra credit points. Tonight, due to the approach of All Hallow's Eve, we are going to be talking and writing a lot about ghosts. That's my hook for the night. I don't know if my students will find my lesson plan interesting, but at least I will have some fun.
It's just about time to head down the hall to my classroom. I know that, since you started reading this post, you have probably gone to the bathroom, changed channels on the TV, surfed the Internet a little, and, maybe, taken a nap.
That's what Saint Marty would have done.
|Not sure if this is a real ghost, but it got your attention, didn't it?|