Pissy Man

For my Historical and Critical Moments in Journalism class we had to pick a book to read from the list of the top 100 pieces of journalistic work from 1900-1980. We were told to submit three choices to the professor, and he would put us in groups. I submitted six options. He assignmed me The Feminine Mystique; this was NOT one of my suggestions. This is actually the LAST book on the list I would ever want to read. Four books that I did want to read were assigned to others, but not me.

He is, in my opinion, the most incompetent professor at Loyola. I had him the first semester my freshmen year and considered his class a painful experience; he gives vague directions and then penalizes your work when you haven't done EXACTLY what he wanted. Also, (and I swear this is not an exaggeration) he speaks for a total of about 11 minutes, and the rest of the time stares at the back wall like the thoughts in his head are too profound to even vocalize; this is a two and a half hour class.

Because I hate him, and I am the one paying for my education, I decided to let him know I was pissed about the Feminine Mystique. This is our email correspondence verbatim:

"Professor,
I suggested at least two books that others were assigned to read. I
never suggested the Feminine Mystique; I have no interest in the
complaints of a woman who believes that one way to imrpove the
position of women in society is to rant about the evils of men. I'll
read it because you have already made the groups, but I am not happy
about it. I actually really despise it.

Allison Kelly"

and his reply:

"Pick your book from the available groups and I will assign you to that
group. Look, you come to class late, you don't come at all, you have
your head half into things, and then lo and behold, a mistake occurs and
you are in a snit. That doesn't travel very well with me. All I ever
wanted was for you to pick a book someone else was doing, not one where
you were the only one. So pick, but don't look for much from me unless
you pick up the tempo a bit.

David"

Please, allow me to defend myself. I have never missed the class, and showed up late once, when the Loyola shuttle I was riding broke down. I really can only laugh at him saying that I have my head "half into things," because this applies to him more than any of the students in his class; besides, I have spoken in class more than most of the students. At the end, I love that he tells me not to expect much from him- great thing for a professor to say.

He is just another example to support my hatred for southerners.

Peace, love, and ponies.

"I suck."
-David Eason (OK, he may have never actually said this, but I think that deep down he knows it.)