Examination Question: Section A

GreenEyedGirl said:


Wilde was fashionable, yet not original.
And the desk would be lovely, thank you so much for the suggestion. Now, shall we use teach's desk or one of the little ones with the seat attached? :D

I'm used to the teacher's desk, myself. So one of those little hummers would be kinda kinky, don't you think? :cool:
 
Hamletmaschine said:
Since Wilde ripped off most of his aesthetic ideas from either Pater or Ruskin, I think the jury's still out on that one. But be that as it may, I'm having second thoughts about the cloakroom only because I won't be able to look into those lovely green eyes.
Perhaps a bit of 'artful' fucking on the desk, instead, since Teach won't be using it?

Wilde admits to the admirablity of stealing outright.

The desk is clear. Have at it! :)
 
"One writes out of one thing only -- one's own experience. Everything depends on how relentlessly one forces from this experience the last drop, sweet or bitter, it can possibly give. This is the only real concern of the artist, to recreate out of the disorder of life that order which is art."
 
alright apperantly i entered this thread too late to try and keep the discussion going.... i'll just sit her and watch hamlet and green-eyes get it on. oh don't mind the camera... it's not on, i swear.

:cool:
 
seXieleXie said:
"One writes out of one thing only -- one's own experience. Everything depends on how relentlessly one forces from this experience the last drop, sweet or bitter, it can possibly give. This is the only real concern of the artist, to recreate out of the disorder of life that order which is art."

This sounds sort of like the description of a bowel movement.
 
Hamletmaschine said:


I'm used to the teacher's desk, myself. So one of those little hummers would be kinda kinky, don't you think? :cool:

The little desk it is! Bent over? Sitting? Straddling?
And if you are used to the teacher's desk, then you have a pointer somewhere, yes?

quote:
This sounds sort of like the description of a bowel movement.


Aw, did you have to? lol, but it does actually!
 
Damn, left the paper at home. I am gonna have a peek at the books I bought yesterday.
 
Take your time, Riff, take your time, my brother....

I'm still trying to figure out how to get both me and Green-Eyed Girl into this tiny little desk here.

Maybe if you sit on the little desktop, while I sit in the seat--or vice-versa--we can proceed with the oral part of the examination? How would that be?

And don't mind lexie: she's just perving over there until Dilly comes back.... She may join us in a moment, anyway.
 
seXieleXie said:
alright apperantly i entered this thread too late to try and keep the discussion going.... i'll just sit her and watch hamlet and green-eyes get it on. oh don't mind the camera... it's not on, i swear.
:cool:

*sitting next to you and peering through your camera lens as I place a hand innocently on your thigh*
 
Riff - can't wait for class to be back in session. This is a great audit for me!



Meanwhile, don't worry Hamlet, I'm very flexible, we'll fit in this tiny desk and proceed with the oral section of the exam........
Now, what is the first answer? :D
 
This is like being the newest of the favorite threads I am the having here. It is the talking of all the wonderful art there is the being with the sex mixing in to it all of the time as well even with the desks and the hot teachers and the all of that kind of stuff that is the making of the huge COCK I am the always having the even bigger while it is I am thinking about the culture and the arts and this I am the telling the all of you is the being what the life is the all about!
 
Glad you could come, Gnufi! You are so fucking right. And here I was getting down on myself for losing control of the classroom.

Please, tell me you have the answer to what life is all about. I have been trying to figure it out for all of my life and it is driving me crazy. You got it, a some self-medication, anti-depressants, anti-anxiety, and therapy. I am there.

I am watching Breakfast of Champions for the third time this week and I keep identifying with all of the male characters, Dwayne Hoover, Dwayne Hoobler, Harry La Sabre, Kilgore Trout, Elliot Rosewater, and the others. To further complicate things, I find myself strangely convinced that the only sane characters are the women, Francine Pefko and Harry La Sabre's wife. Not only am I convinced that the are the only sane ones, I feel that I want to BE like them.

It's all just this giant vacuum in my head and I suck it all up!

Damn- Dwayne just said, "I think I may need to talk to someone from another planet."

And Francene just said, "Dwaaaaayyynnneee, why don't you go to the Midland City Arts Festival....."

There is no god....
 
Oh shit, I am worse off than I thought. They just played a scene with Bunny Hoover, Dwaaynes gay cocaine-snorting piano player.

I'm fucked. I'll never survive this world.
 
One of my favorite movies! And one of my favorite authors.
I am very jealous that you are watching it now, *sigh...... *

And you've survived the world so far, why not try for a little longer? Besides, losing control of the classroom can lead to the most interesting of situations and thought processes.
Or chaos.
Both of which are always riveting!

Now, Hamlet...... where were we? Oh yea, skirt up and a tongue tied teacher. Damn I have that Police song swimming in my head now! :D
 
GreenEyedGirl - your PM box is full. There is a limit of 100 PMs, received and sent. In order for me to respond to you - you need to clean it out a bit so I can PM you.
 
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Shit, that's a demerit if I ever saw one! Sorry!
All clean like a good little girl now :D
 
Follow the yellowbrick road... follow the yellowbrick road... follow, follow, follow, follow the yellow brick road.... :)

Kilgore tells dwayne... "If you knew the answer there would be no more questions...."

Dwayne is losing it. LOL

Kilgore says: "Until you are dead, it is all life, so make the most of it.....

how culd anyone not dig it.
 
Class! Claaassss! Claaaaaaassss!

SHUT UP!!!

Okay, we've got Green-Eyed Girl with her skirt up singing Police songs--and I don't even want to ask if it's "Don't Stand so Close to Me"...a song I sing to myself evey goddamned day in class.

We've got Master Riff over there giving us a play-by-play on a movie that isn't even porno.

Dilly's making a move on both the girls in the class.

Lexie's fallen asleep.

And now Topo Gigio shows up with a phallus worthy of a Greek satyr play.

I think I'm losing my enthusiasm for this project.
 
Hamletmaschine said:
Class! Claaassss! Claaaaaaassss!

SHUT UP!!!

Okay, we've got Green-Eyed Girl with her skirt up singing Police songs--and I don't even want to ask if it's "Don't Stand so Close to Me"...a song I sing to myself evey goddamned day in class.

We've got Master Riff over there giving us a play-by-play on a movie that isn't even porno.

Dilly's making a move on both the girls in the class.

Lexie's fallen asleep.

And now Topo Gigio shows up with a phallus worthy of a Greek satyr play.

I think I'm losing my enthusiasm for this project.

Uh oh! *smooths skirt down, sits demurely at desk, hands folded.*
Please sir, I promise to stop singing that song that you apparently have an affinity for. And I did pass in my essay, but the only response I got was that it was "Well written, I think."
So I think it is time for someone to either bring up a rebuttal or state another stance so we can pursue an academic vein. If my mind is not stimulated, I will wander to other areas of my body!
 
Maybe we can do more essay stuff this weekend. I have suddenly become preoccupied with work matters (I am pissed).

I need to chill. Thank god it is friday!
 
Re: Okay Riff, you fucker

GreenEyedGirl said:

The sorrow, beauty, and travails created in the worlds of fiction, poetry, and art are separate from our beings, our reality. Our inner sanctum is safe from the ravaging of this art, but it is slightly touched by its presence, the very nearness of art to our selves. It moves us emotionally, and some time spiritually, because it does not actually affect us directly. When humans physically encounter the sorrow, horror, beauty, or the intense emotions that art represents, we tend to mentally shut down. In an effort to preserve our beings we remove our emotions in order to deal with reality and preserve our physical selves. Prime example: Goya. Goya's works are breathtaking and intensely moving. Why? Because we are not the subjects. We are not enduring the particular reality he is portraying, therefore we are free to explore and feel the emotions brought up from the viewing of his art.
Love. Do we actually love, or is this another form of art? I often wonder at this. Halmark tells us that we love. Byron, Shelley, Shakespeare, Jane Austin..... they all create an intense reaction in us to their words, their phrases, their "love making." But have those overwhelming, consuming, all encompassing emotions ever truly been felt in one human? Doubtful, at least to the extent at which they are portrayed. We brush closely, but self preservation steps in and reserves our inner sanctum.
Art inspires Life. Art is the pedestal to which Life aspires, but can never completely attain. Life is never as vibrant as Art. But somehow Life is more satisfying because of Art's influence.

Okay you fuckers - I expect to be fucked "artfully" for my work, because it is not happening in Life! To work through these ideas on a porn board....... shit. I should at least be well petted. ;)

To do is to be. ~Camus

To be is to do. ~Sartre

Do be do be do. ~Sinatra

There are those who want art to be more like life, and those who want life to be more like art. I think both these miss the point. Art and life are inextricably imbricated such that it is unimaginable to think of one without the other (assuming we hold a suitably catholic notion of art as symbolic action, rather than capital "A" Art--the "classics" or the Great Works).

Although I can appreciate the notion you express here regarding the cathartic nature of art--the old binge/purge syndrome of getting one's senses aroused and sated by looking at a Goya or a porn video--I think this is only one function of art, and perhaps its most insidious one. Bread & circuses.

Although I wasn't paying as close attention in my phenomenology seminar as Free obviously was, I do remember that Heidegger once said something like "Poetically man dwells." I have no idea what he meant by that, but I like the sound of it, for it suggests that to dwell in the world--as opposed I guess to moving through it unconsciously--is perceive and experience it as art, as poetry. The arts themselves--dancing, painting, literature, etc.--give us glimpses of what that might be like.

Okay. There. I responded in kind to your post, and I'll tell you that I might even believe some of what I just said.

Now can we fuck?
 
purely experiential

GreenEyedGirl said:


...I did pass in my essay, but the only response I got was that it was "Well written, I think."
So I think it is time for someone to either bring up a rebuttal or state another stance so we can pursue an academic vein. If my mind is not stimulated, I will wander to other areas of my body!

Life is involuntary; art is voluntary.

No matter how many feelings we knead(art) to pacify our discontent, or declare our approval, life's momentum carries it forward. The perception that life is less vibrant than art, is a desperate effort to glaze the mirage with reality. No doubt, the real experiences of life can profit from the dreams and fantasies of art. Fear of the known - as well as unknown - depth of possibilities can suffocate the flame of life. Yet, equally so, the isolation of art from experience can leave it entrancingly empty.
Lit is a wonderful example. The energy and possibilities that are unleashed (whether in dialogue with virtual minds, or fantasies with ideologic porn) posses the influence to make life more satisfying. Yet, without the experience of life to balance - give context to - art (voluntary pursuit of dreams and fantasies), the romantic possibilities become a cruel addiction to vaporic pleasure.

Each has value that allows it to stand independently, but perhaps their marriage is a true image of synergy.
 
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