Showing posts with label class. Show all posts
Showing posts with label class. Show all posts
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Merci Merci
I'd like to thank Google Chrome for trying to translate an online placement test. For a French class.
Servicey.
Zut alors hon hon hon.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Hating
For portfolio class, I was instructed to make a list of things I hate and then use one of them for a campaign.
Once I got started, I sort of veered off into the deep end-- here are some of the more complex things I hate. These, unfortunately, can't be used to make ads. (I don't think)
Things I Hate:
-slow drivers in the left lane
-people in UGGs who shuffle
-mouthbreathers
-math
-Hot Topic goths
-being cold
-being too hot
-pixelated pictures
-unemployment
Trying to decide if "ballpoint pens" can be used for anything. Stay tuned.
Once I got started, I sort of veered off into the deep end-- here are some of the more complex things I hate. These, unfortunately, can't be used to make ads. (I don't think)
Things I Hate:
-slow drivers in the left lane
-people in UGGs who shuffle
-mouthbreathers
-math
-Hot Topic goths
-being cold
-being too hot
-pixelated pictures
-unemployment
Trying to decide if "ballpoint pens" can be used for anything. Stay tuned.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
(Mental) Resistance
In my Ethics discussion today, we were talking about Sartre's Deontologism, and his question of whether to fight in the Resistance or stay at home to care for his mother.
As one of the only people in my group who comes to lectures and takes notes, I became the expert on the "staying at home" argument, and I was giving an answer about immediate gratification of being with your mother versus killing Nazis. After a long response, the towny boy in the front raised his hand and screeched, "Why do you keep on talking about Nazis?"
After the inexplicable laughter died down, I calmly explained to the kid that Sartre was debating whether to fight in the Resistance. The kid laughed and replied, "There were no Nazis during the French Revolution."
I looked at him in shocked silence for a full two heartbeats. Was he making a joke? Was he mocking me in some way?
I opened my mouth to explain, somehow, that Sartre was born in 1905, had never, in fact, fought in the French Revolution, and that this kid was actually some kind of mentally challenged person.
Thankfully, the TA changed the subject reallly fast and we moved on to something else.
As one of the only people in my group who comes to lectures and takes notes, I became the expert on the "staying at home" argument, and I was giving an answer about immediate gratification of being with your mother versus killing Nazis. After a long response, the towny boy in the front raised his hand and screeched, "Why do you keep on talking about Nazis?"
After the inexplicable laughter died down, I calmly explained to the kid that Sartre was debating whether to fight in the Resistance. The kid laughed and replied, "There were no Nazis during the French Revolution."
I looked at him in shocked silence for a full two heartbeats. Was he making a joke? Was he mocking me in some way?
I opened my mouth to explain, somehow, that Sartre was born in 1905, had never, in fact, fought in the French Revolution, and that this kid was actually some kind of mentally challenged person.
Thankfully, the TA changed the subject reallly fast and we moved on to something else.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)