Oil y Automatons

Ontology, fua, fua…
Ontology, fua, fua, fua…

[This is the sound of my brain-motor oiled with too much reading.]

Looking one day ahead–all critical pedagogy: Shor on why vocationalism
spells r-u-i-n and what he was doing in his classroom in 1979 (hamburgers as
objects of inquiry, wedding contracts, so on); Thelin & Bertoncino on the
plight of comp-teaching Kroger clerk who was assailed by Dr. Jones, the crank
observer; good ole Freire–conscientization.

Looking to next Monday–We’re spending another week on Foucault’s The
Order of [Words and] Things
, too. But we voted on it; I lost. We need
another week to map episteme shifts since the Baroke Breaque
17th c.  But I get the project, more or less (fine…perhaps
less), and I feel ready to move on.  So I voted ‘nay’ on continuing with
more ruminations. Others: ‘yey.’  Democratic.  But I don’t want to
explain here what it means for Barthes (who sat in the week where a third bout
of Foucault now sits).  Dammit! ‘Course Barthes will remain in my
project.  And, in protest, I’m referring to Foucault’s book acronymically
as TOOT for a while. 

Have  you ever read something you put on the schedule for a class you’re
teaching, just before you’re about to work with it, and think,
"What?"  Wednesday morning: Mike Davis’s c. 4 from City of
: "Fortress L.A."  What? fua…fua…