bloop bloop beep

I have Sam Roberts' "Taj Mahal" stuck in my head. Now, as some of you know, my love for Sam Roberts verges on the unholy, mostly because, well, he is just that damn good and I really can't get enough of his music. And some day, when I have my own computer and internet access in my living space, I will summarize the precise reasons why he is the best thing to happen to Can-rock since Loverboy broke up (Loverboy did break up, right?) but that is a post for another time, I suppose.

So. Class the first (of TAing) is down. My staff advisor appears to be the awesome, and apparently when you TA, you get the course books for free. There are very few things in this world that give me the inordinate amount of pleasure that is free books. Especially when one of them is a hardbacked Handbook for Writers, 3rd Canadian Edition.

Class the first of my MA career, which called Approaches to Research and Theory, takes place this afternoon, in about...four hours. It's a module-based course, and for the first one we are reading a working model of a 19th century minstrel show, and some pretty complex theory pieces, including Slavoj Zizek's The Desert of the Real which is available at Lacan.com and is about September 11th as spectacle. It's pretty interesting reading (especially compared to Deleuze's writings on the Rhizome) and I hope I can contribute well to a class discussion of it.

The Imaginus poster people are on campus today; I think I am off to give them money in exchange for beautiful decorations. They have prints of Le Petit Prince that I positively covet.