Today, while attending a “higher education” class from my living room (which still feels like a strange thing to say, even after a year) I was confronted with something that struck me wrong in an academic, logical and moral sense. So I sat and thought, pored a drink, lit a smoke. I did what I always do when something seems troubling. Within twenty minutes of engaging in this process, I decided to make a video to conceptualize my thoughts (link included below) and I am writing this now in the same vein.
It seems, that the institution which operates off the financial backing of both the state and its students (its a community college) has decided, as the all knowing Hobbesian Leviathan that they are, that the students, languishing under the despotic lockdowns , wasting their money on an ineffective education void of human contact, aren’t fit to take a test without being constantly monitored by Big Brother through the cameras embedded in their laptops. This Remote Proctoring Software which students must apparently install to take a standard multiple choice test will disable the student’s web access and film them for the duration of the examination. I find this alarming on many levels which I discuss in the video I had made. Perhaps I’m off base in my outrage. Let me know. As of right now I’m more than bit disturbed by the trajectory of the modern academic setting.
When has poetry become political? And poets devoid of emotional depth? Why has color or creed or cock you suck or don’t Become more about the syllables and structure and sentiment? Does minority status a poet make? Or degree of social justice theme imbue a poem with worth? Do you care about my sexual orientation when you read this poem? Do you scoff at my lack of melanin? From here I can hear you thinking “How could Ty ever be a poet? Ty is white and white is wrong and I betcha he’s never sucked a cock, he’s got to suck at least 50 cocks before he gets published, and some of those cocks better be black! Hell! He’s nothing but a miserable, white, drunk! He doesn’t even take political stances! And if he did they’d likely be incorrect, his social justice score is in the tank! Holy fuck, he might even be a natural blond! Forget the thought of publishing, Ty, you Nazi fuck, you alcoholic, misogynistic piece of shit, Your intolerance is intolerable! Burn the Polack at the stake!”
Walking out of the campus library I pass a large white poster board. Written on top, in bold black lettering, Is “what would you like to see more of at Farmingdale Community College?!” I stopped to read the many bullshit replies Of my shithead classmates: “Better wifi. Better coffee. More inclusivity. Smaller class size. No cigarettes on campus (they stink!) Farmingdale should GO GREENER. Legalize the weed!” But at the bottom, one pure heart of gold wrote, simply “Titties….more Titties” With a large red heart around it. Whoever wrote this I would elect president. To whoever wrote that I say change nothing, You are pure and perfect as is. Disregard anyone who says otherwise. I envy your wisdom.
Stroll ’round campus, February, brisk, Bukowski under one arm, Hair wet from an Ill conceived shower, Grumbling, having left my Smokes at home. ’tis not the Army, my man, A voice whispers, This is college, this is Shithead country, This is beta-males and alpha bitches Lamenting about the plights of People they have no want to meet. This is the land of soy lattes and no Cigarettes. I have no need for tofu, guys, Ty needs nicotine, mainlined if necessary, Right to the fucking heart, I don’t wanna talk about the alliance Of gay and straight people, Sorry, but I wanna smoke and Sit quietly. Any takers? No, then can I bum one?- Confused stares all around, Mean like cigarettes? Sure doll, got one? No, but I have a flier for blah blah blah….. Fuck me….. I hate college, everyone so health Conscious I’m feeling sick myself, So righteously political I’m steadily Leaning more towards anarchism, This is the bum’s lament, A true Valentine Smith, A Stranger in a Strange Land, Lost and without a smoke.