![]() ![]() He tilted his chin in high rebuke, mostly theatrical, and withdrew his body from the surface of the desk, dropping his bottom into the swivel chair and looking at me again and then doing a decisive quarter turn and raising his right leg sufficiently so that the foot, the shoe, was posted upright at the edge of the desk. And you don’t know how to look because you don’t know the names.” “You didn’t see the thing because you don’t know how to look. ![]() He made a show of draping himself across the desk, writhing slightly as if in the midst of some dire distress. ![]() “You’re so eloquent I may have to pause to regain my composure. “There’s not much to name, is there? A front and a top.” I set my foot back down and stared at the boot, which seemed about as blank as a closed brown box. I lifted one foot and turned it awkwardly. We’re not so chi chi here, we’re not so intellectually chic that we can’t test a student face-to-face.” He leaned across the desk and gazed, is the word, at my wet boots. You in particular, Shay, coming from the place you come from.” You’d be better served looking at your shoe and naming the parts. “Sometimes I think the education we dispense is better suited to a fifty-year-old who feels he missed the point the first time around. A favorite scene from Don DeLillo’s novel Underworld: ![]()
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