v10: The riverbed makes a very good road

In Grade 5, when I was in Peer, they did an entire unit on slavery. Now, I have numerous fond memories of that class, but I never understood its practicality as a learning environment.

I'm not entirely sure where the myth that I am/was a gifted student began. My "gift" begins and ends with my ability as a writer. I suppose that means if you think I'm not such a great writer, then I'm not gifted. And to those of you who have praised my work, then perhaps I qualify. But I've never been an exceptional student. I'm notorious for finding the easiest and most beneficial way to do any given assignment. In a particularly self-absorbed Guthrie journal entry (although that was their nature,) I praised myself as "a different kind of smart."

I've often thought that everything I have gained and accomplished, I owe to charm. Come on: who else could write so narcissistically about himself on a nightly basis and have people tell him it's good? I'm full of it, clearly, and that's what's gotten me as far as I am. Great men challenge their limits. Good men, like me, do as well as they can with the limits they know they have.

Today was a strangely charmed day. No major obstacles, even in Mitro~*'s class. In fact, when I told him what Joe and I are doing for our assignment - the authors of "The death of WCW," his eyes lit up. He's a total mark, dropping names like Bobo Brazil and "Whipper" Billy Watson, we had a pleasant conversation. Kent dropped in a plug for UFC (charlatan!) and David chimed in with a remark about Brantford's "Killer" Kowalski, but I was the one who precipitated the whole discussion, coming back from the break. Fewer than 8 people were in the class.

Then over lunch, I watched some Futurama on my Mac, and found some ideas for my Newspaper Writing assignment. It's hard, in that class, when we are concurrently working on that and the newspaper. I guess that's why we haven't been doing the weekly assignments like we did toward the end of Jarrett's first semester.

Speaking of whom: I re-read some old posts and damn was I ever hard on that guy when I first met him. Although I came to write fondly of him as a good guy, easy marker and overall pleasant teacher, I never retracted the statements made about him. I hereby do that. And Mitro~*: if you give me and Joe a good mark on our final assignments, I'll afford you the same courtesy. Maybe Haasim was right.

My arms are tired so while I would love to make this a nice long post (although it already seems substantial,) I have to cool it for tonight. I had to go to a bowl-off, and although I kicked major ass, (155, 147, 212; F'NA) it has left my left arm worn, and my right arm with sympathy tiredness. I can't explain that.

It's one of those nights though where I could've kept typing for a very long time, just to read my own words (the online-bloggage equivalent of talking to hear one's own voice,) and am indeed filibustering the end of this very post, just for that express purpose. And to use the word "filibuster."

Keep on rockin'
Scott Williams:
He of the golden brown cowlick.