There's something about Disney songs which make homework look less frightening.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
And When Love Speaks
I am one who, when Love breathes in me, takes note; what he, within, dictates, I, in that way, without, would speak and shape.
~Dante, Purgatorio
Friday, February 11, 2011
The Music of Politics
Classes can be so fun.
Today, in Principles of American Politics, I was getting really tired. It's the end of the week, and I'd been extra tired all week long. "My heart aches," as the poet says, "and a drowsy numbness pains / My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains."
And then the soft humming of a female voice seeped into our classroom. It started in low and then started to grow. Each head turning towards the sound was thinking, "Thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, / In some melodious plot / Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, / Singest of summer in full-throated ease." Ok, maybe our thoughts weren't quite that elaborate, but it captures the feeling of the thing.
Our poor professor tried very valiantly to ignore the noise. It sounded like someone was having a voice lesson - though why someone would have voice lessons in the Science Building was a mystery. But when another voice joined the first in a rising harmony, Dr. ____ looked up desperately and said, "I'm not the only one hearing this, right?"
A girl in back informed our professor that it was not a music lesson at all. The lab assistants, bored with their job, were singing their hearts out in the next room. And I have to admit, they were pretty good. I mean, they had no music playing and I heard a soprano and alto. It felt like I was doubling American Idol auditions with the Articles of Confederation. Hey, Plato said that music is an essential component in the development of young politicians.
Dr. _____ is a rather eccentric fellow, and is easily disturbed, so ignoring the noise proved no mean feat. He continued to speak on the Articles, but paused frequently. But, being the nice guy he is, he didn't want to go over because he didn't want to seem mean. Finally, he exclaimed, "I just have to go ask them to stop." Bounding from the room, he returned a minute later beaming.
But don't worry - the nightingales weren't upset. Though the music stopped, I swear I heard giggling on the other side of the wall.
Today, in Principles of American Politics, I was getting really tired. It's the end of the week, and I'd been extra tired all week long. "My heart aches," as the poet says, "and a drowsy numbness pains / My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains."
And then the soft humming of a female voice seeped into our classroom. It started in low and then started to grow. Each head turning towards the sound was thinking, "Thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, / In some melodious plot / Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, / Singest of summer in full-throated ease." Ok, maybe our thoughts weren't quite that elaborate, but it captures the feeling of the thing.
Our poor professor tried very valiantly to ignore the noise. It sounded like someone was having a voice lesson - though why someone would have voice lessons in the Science Building was a mystery. But when another voice joined the first in a rising harmony, Dr. ____ looked up desperately and said, "I'm not the only one hearing this, right?"
A girl in back informed our professor that it was not a music lesson at all. The lab assistants, bored with their job, were singing their hearts out in the next room. And I have to admit, they were pretty good. I mean, they had no music playing and I heard a soprano and alto. It felt like I was doubling American Idol auditions with the Articles of Confederation. Hey, Plato said that music is an essential component in the development of young politicians.
Dr. _____ is a rather eccentric fellow, and is easily disturbed, so ignoring the noise proved no mean feat. He continued to speak on the Articles, but paused frequently. But, being the nice guy he is, he didn't want to go over because he didn't want to seem mean. Finally, he exclaimed, "I just have to go ask them to stop." Bounding from the room, he returned a minute later beaming.
But don't worry - the nightingales weren't upset. Though the music stopped, I swear I heard giggling on the other side of the wall.
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