things of little relevance


Butler Saturday Night Summary
May 3, 2009, 3:14 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

Butler is not a bar.

(The fact that I brought beer in a water bottle to Butler last night seems to undercut that statement. However, I drink in Butler not to socialize, I drink in order to free up my inhibitions so I can write more than 111 words in two hours—“I know this is wrong it’s a problem I’m dealing.” Other than academic issues, out of concern for my liver, I probably shouldn’t go to graduate school.)

A creepy man approached me tonight, the quality of people certainly decreases in Butler on a Saturday night. He sat down across from me when I was obviously working. Per usual, he opened with “I always see you in Butler.” He then introduced himself as a Ph.D. student in financial engineering and proceeded to tell me:

a) I look like I work in finance. (Bear in mind, I was wearing this, business casual indeed. I’m redefining the corporate dress code with a $5 vintage dress, and stains to boot!)

b) Now is the time for me to start an investment something firm. I forget the actual title, not important.

c) I look intelligent.

d) Do people tell me I look intelligent because I’m Asian?

e) Because he’s not racially stereotyping me. I truly look intelligent.

f) I look intelligent because I’m always in Butler.

Linnea was right, I should have just told him, “You’re making me really uncomfortable” instead of trying to humor him. 

That aside, one cannot look intelligent, one can be intelligent. Looking intelligent means absolutely nothing. I do not look intelligent. 

I am not even going to touch the “Asian” thing. I’m guessing that he assumed I was into finance because I was Asian. Glad to see that racial stereotypes are still alive and hopping.

People have the misconception that if someone is in always in Butler, then he is intelligent. Completely wrong. I am always in Butler because I am a slow thinker and a slower writer. If I were intelligent, I would not be in Butler on a Saturday night at 2 a.m. If I were intelligent, I would not have to slave over my papers or stare at Microsoft Word for hours without any actual typing. I work really hard, usually too hard, to get the results I do. So no, I am not intelligent. 

In happier news, I could name my paper for The Renaissance Rediscovery of Intimacy “?uestlove.” I recommend skipping the rest of this paragraph if you have no interest in Montaigne. I’m writing about Montaigne’s conception of friendship in the Essais. Montaigne’s definitive essay on friendship, aptly titled “Of friendship,” recounts his friendship with the deceased La Boétie. Montaigne then embarks upon a healing process via writing and appealing to the reader qua friend, which is where we find a hermeneutics of intimacy. Hence ?uestlove, but that will not be my paper title. I doubt my professor will get the reference (she has a dog named Atticus, after Cicero’s Letters to Atticus), and I am going to stringently academic because the class is a graduate seminar and I shouldn’t be an idiot again.

Other news, I’ve resolved a longstanding one-sided (on my part) tension with Columbia alum over a dumb book review I wrote for the Columbia Spectator last year. He clearly did not care, which reminded me that a proper social life is in order. 

I’ve also developed a slight Butler crush. It’s called finals googles. However, I am keeping to my axiom: “I don’t shit where I eat.” I also recently realized that most Butler crushes/characters are best admired from afar. Meeting them either destroys the mystique or my ability to laugh at them. (I can no longer laugh at Williamsburg without regret, because I’ve put a name to the face. And that makes him a real person. I prefer abstractions a là Marquis de Sade, source.)

Also, can we return to the following:

“In those days, people did drink ever so much more than they do now,” Mrs. Cheever said with a chuckle. “It sounds shocking now, but it was not shocking then.”

By “we,” I mean society, because I’ve been in Cheever’s habit for quite a while now.

Enough intellectual masturbation, time for some real…

I kid I kid. Time for some shut-eye.

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4 Comments so far
Leave a comment

I hope you don’t mean the same character who repeatedly comes to the desk and tells me I would make a hot investment banker if I took off my glasses. What is with these idiots?!

Comment by Carla

It is probably the same person, is his name Atif? Or something along those lines?

Comment by Lucy

Yes! He came up today too. I must have done something terrible in a past life to deserve this. He asked me if I wanted to have lunch. I told him I couldn’t. Then he said something like ‘it would be amazing to see you eat.’ Ugh! Ugh! Creepy! Though I must say he’s not as bad as porn-guy who used to sit in the ref. room.

Comment by Carla

bar-maid, i need a beer, i’ll be in reference in the back…thank you very much!

Comment by pierces87




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