Paint By Numbers

It has been brought to my attention (not that it needed to be, as I was well aware) that I haven't updated in far too long. To make amends, I will tell you about Tuesday. I was going to tell you about Tuesday on Tuesday itself, but I was busy and one thing led to another, and then it was Friday. I think we can see why my updates are so infrequent these days. Anyway, for narrative purposes, my story begins Tuesday afternoon while I am sitting in the English lounge with some classmates. Don't get too excited. The "lounge" is basically a room with student mailboxes, some tables and chairs, a coffee maker, and some vinyl couches from the 70s. Not the most happening place in the world, but a suitable place to kill time between an afternoon class and an evening class. Which is what I was doing, along with some other people. What follows is a fairly accurate transcript of a conversation.

Classmate 1: So what class are you taking this summer?
Me: Um, 765, I think.
Classmate 1: Okay, what's up with people calling their classes by the number? That's so confusing.
Me: I dunno. I guess that's just the form of abbreviation people use in this department. Where I did my undergrad, every class was abbreviated to two syllables. Brit Lit, Lit Crit, Rhet Comm, Mass Comm, Bib Rev, Spec Mind, Civ Lit, Fit Well, and so on. Here, people just use the number.
Classmate 1: But that's not helpful. At least the two syllable thing kind of makes sense. But who's going to memorize what every course number stands for?
Me: Eh, you get used to it. Watch. [I call to someone at another table.] Hey, what class do you have tonight.
Classmate 2: 752
Me: Exactly. And what's the course title?
Classmate 2: Um... 752? I don't actually know the name of the course. [He pulls out his syllabus to check] It's called "Literary Theory for the Teacher and Scholarly Writer".
Me: Hence the name "752".

I look forward to when I will take 752 as it sounds interesting, although devilishly difficult. I have several friends who are in the class now and so I have heard about their final projects. I don't know the parameters of the assignment, but it seems to be a project in which they must combine theory with performance art. One person studied narrative theory by playing the role of the wolf while improvising a Little Red Riding Hood story with audience participation. Some of us helped him practice in the library and it's great fun to watch people get freaked out when they hear random wolf howls coming from the periodicals.

But Tuesday was the day set for another friend's project. She had read about an experiment done sometime in the 70s by a woman whose name I unfortunately have forgotten. Sorry. Anyway, this woman wanted to make a statement about the objectification of women's bodies, so she stationed herself in a public place. Next to her was a table with things like scissors, paint, a gun, ribbons, markers, assorted other items, and a sign that said something to the effect of "I am an object. You may use the items on this table to do to me what you will." Over the course of the day, people came up and drew on her and painted her. They cut off all of her clothes and even cut her skin with razors. The whole thing was stopped by concerned on-lookers when someone put a loaded gun to this woman's head. This is some scary stuff.

My friend wanted to recreate this experiment, but without the chance for serious bodily injury and public humiliation, so she used a blow-up doll instead. Tuesday morning, I helped her carry a table from the lounge (the one the coffee maker usually sits on) out into the center of campus. We covered it with objects, and then I left to do some work while she put the doll out on a bench next to the table. (The doll's name is Judy, by the way.) So while I was working in my professor's office, I noticed that I had a good view from the office window to where Judy was stationed. I watched as one man walked up and read her sign, checked to see if anyone was watching him, picked up some paint, checked to see if anyone was watching him, painted something on Judy's face, checked to see if anyone was watching him, and then scurried away. After she'd been out for about an hour, I took a picture of her. I debated about whether to show this image or link to it. She is fully clothed and isn't an anatomically correct doll anyway, so I don't think it would be a problem for anyone, but who knows. The picture is here if you want to see it.

The more abuse Judy suffered, the less shy people seemed about doing things to her. At at least one point, there was a group of people surrounding her shouting at other people who walked by to come and add something. Other people would stop and stare and argue over who would do something like this and what it meant. Still others were complaining about how it objectified women, which I believe means they both got the point and missed it completely at the same time. Also, it was a tour day and I saw several tour guides awkwardly ushering they groups past the display. I was coming out of the library when my friend was cleaning up her experiement after about 6 hours. Judy was a wreck. She'd been stabbed in the heart with a pen, so she'd started to deflate. People had autographed various parts of her, including a signature from Michael Jackson for some reason. An inscription on the back of her head read "Jimmy is cool because he likes women". There were various signs taped to her that said things I won't repeat here. My friend's professor came by and said he was surprised that people actually did things to Judy, but it meant that the experiment was a success. We discussed how absolutely horrifying it is to see what people will do to something (i.e. a woman's body) when it is viewed as nothing more than an object. It was interesting to listen to people in the hallways or my classes talk about "That doll in the Oak Grove", since only a handful of people knew what the point of the experiment was. I don't want to give the impression that I did any work on this. All I contributed was carrying the table. But this was a big event on Tuesday and, I think, very thought provoking, so I share it with you.

After that, I went to my Tuesday evening class. It's 766, in case your wondering, and I honestly don't know the actual name of it, nor do I feel like looking it up. In that class, someone got up to give his presentation. He fired up the Powerpoint and said, "I'm sorry if this presentation is a little rough. I couldn't get into my apartment to get my notes. When I went back there, the place was swarming with cops." Now, I thought this was an effective way to begin a presentation because he's got everyone's attention with a comment like that. Maybe we're going to here a presentation from a criminal on the run! Excitement! He went on to explain, "Apparently, the guy who lived in the apartment next to mine died and nobody knew for about a week. He had started to decompose, so they had to bring in the hazmat team to clean things up. I don't know when I'll be able to live in my apartment again."

I've got a couple things here. First, I give the guy credit for still doing his presentation. I mean, of all the possible excuses for not being fully prepared, that seems like a pretty solid one. Secondly, that's got to be an awful way to go. How horrible would it be to die and not have anyone notice until the landlord comes by to find out what the smell is? If nothing else, it makes me want to maintain an even stronger connection with all my friends and family.

So that was Tuesday. It's crunch time at the end of the semester now, so I'm guessing there will be another sizable gap in posting schedule. I hope this one was long enough to tide you over.