Gut Rumbles

December 06, 2006

I was lucky

Originally published February 26, 2005

I knew after my first couple of days at the Henry W. Grady School of Journalism at the University of Georgia, that I didn't fit in with what was "mainstream" political thought back in 1975. I was considered to be an amusing troglodyte because I wasn't socialist, gay, anti-gun or a raving proponent of the "Fairness Doctrine." I just wanted to write.

But I will admit one thing: I NEVER had a professor there who punished me for having a totally politically-incorrect viewpoint in ANY class I took. If I did the work, I got the grade, and I always did the work. I was a contrarian, but I was never treated as a failed brainwashing experiment.

A lot of the professors enjoyed talking with me over a couple of beers or even an occasional dinner at their own homes because I spoke my mind. They disagreed with what I had to say, but they still were interested in HEARING IT, especially when I attempted to explain why I thought the way I did.

To me, that is the purpose of a university. Throw those opposing idea out there and debate the worth of each. That sort of exercise makes you THINK and it teaches you to back up what you have to say with footnotes and references. If you can do that, your beliefs are totally justified.

I don't believe that we have that same atmosphere in college anymore. I'm seeing too many examples of bullshit-spouting moonbats who will fail you, ask you to drop the class or otherwise punish you if you don't learn to swallow the cant and repeat it mindlessly.

These people aren't educators. They are cult leaders, some self-appointed high priests of THE RIGHT THINKING religion, and they become really pissed off if you disagree with them. I blame a lot of this crap on schools that created departments to teach "Feminist Studies," "Black Culture," "Native-American Studies" or any other kind of propaganda mill where the object is NOT to teach, but to indoctrinate.

I remember once in an English course, where I had a heated debate with my fully-liberated professor, Ms. Virginia Ramsey. (I had a great deal of lust for that long-legged, blonde-from-a-bottle woman. Looking back today, she reminds me a lot of what a liberal Ann Coulter would be. She's the one who told me that I should go to graduate school and study "Communications," and I still don't know what a degree in "Communications" means.) We were discussing The Brothers Karamozov in class and I stated that I despised the character of Dimitri, the youngest brother who "loved" everybody.

My point was: If he loves EVERYBODY, what is his "love" worth? It's alms for the poor, that's all. And if you give your "love" away like that, you've made it totally worthless. Anybody who claims to love everybody loves NOBODY, because they don't put any value on their love.

She asked me, "So? What is YOUR idea of a man capable of giving love worth something?"

"Howard Roarke," I replied, and there was a moment of complete silence that fell like a dark cloak over the classroom. Ginnie Ramsey finally put two and two together and realized what I was talking about. (And if you don't, I pity you.)

"Sweet Jesus," she said. "YOU WOULD!"

I still got an "A" in the class.

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