Further Education

I am back, back, firmly, within the full bowels of 'further education' (an undisclosed university/college in Sydney). There has been some changes to her whilst i have been away, however, changes that will make my experience, well, simply better. Better and more streamlined; comparisons of the switch from vinyl to MP3 are mentioned frequently.

New head of school, individual disciplines merging into huge conglomerates (goodbye separate schools of history, film et al, hello school of Media,Film and Theatre), more foreign fee payers, more buildings, more chairs, more speed, more choices of coffee, more computers, more students in lectures and tutorials, more teachers, more staff.

I wander through the entrance. Through a sea of more. More. MORE.

I am reminded of the whore of Babylon, willing to let all enjoy her moist opening, and experience it to its fullest, not caring about interest, aptitude or creed; all in the name of capitalism, individual needs/wants and the simple desire for more. The whore is insatiable.

She whores to pay for shiny new earrings, takes more penises into her trembling gateway, crates more width at her opening, movement becomes streamlined to allow for more (*runt, runt, runt............runt* "baby can you let me slip in the back?", "shore for 30 more, here's some soap to clean us....i'm ready" *groan, rrruuuunnnnt, runt, runt......* "ohhhh yeah baby, that's it, you like it? your bad..... it feels so much warmer and tighter...." *runt.....runt* "...sorry darl, but can you hurry up and finish, there's not just you in the pleasure cue you know")

It shore looks good, all this more.

I wonder, though, at what has been displaced in the name of more; the opportunity cost, to use a term dear to economic rationalists the world over, from Margaret Thatcher to Stalin. Have we got more, or merely the appearance of more? Like bad bars that give large, watered down shots; or those XXL food packets that are half full of stale air....

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Their are more students, that is undeniable; however the able have been replaced by the payable, leading one to feel like a stranger in the sea of fee-paying foreigners; - I imagine my blond hair standing out in a sea of black, like a lone boat on a stormy sea - Foreigners who get distinctions for their gibberish speeches, waisting everyone's time; because their accompanying essay was so 'brilliant'. Foreigners who wander through like a segregated other-race. Foreigners who pay and are passed even when they fail, so the school doesn't have to deal with the paperwork. Foreigners with different dress, jumbled speech, and a strict diet of information without knowledge or questions. Foreigners who wield so much power, because, after all, they bought the uni MORE.

I wonder constantly what runs through their heads? Pixelated dreams of the Holy Virgin Mother? Doller signs? Godzilla's lumbering body carelessly destroying all in its way? Either way i can't imagine anything behind their facade, no real desire to question, only a simple pathetic need to parrot.

Foreigners who seem to be merely going through the motions, waiting to be able to leave this place, after their tour of duty; their reward a slip of paper to better their chances at employment.

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I am told that there is more help available at university now for those on the fringe, more positive discrimination.

Seems they are attempting to boost the politically correct bottom (the blacks, the poor, the retreaded, the women etc.) in order to offset their blatant favouritism of those who 'paid for the privilege up front, and in full'. This creates a process were those who are 'normal', opinionated, intrigued and actually engaged - i am sick to death of the utter silence of students in lectures and tutorials, are they too scared to make an accident? Or do they really not care, so long as they pass? - with their subjects become the bitch. A bitch with no rights as a result of its lack of direct payment, and politically correct tragedies and backgrounds.

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My friend Kylie tells me after a lecture of her experiences with a mixture of pleasure and pain:

"so i am being introduced to my psychology class, and the lecturer is adamant that their will be no 'spoon feeding' in this class. He goes on to read through the course outline detailing the exam, the assessments, the online course notes that should be printed out by students individually, mentioning all the time that 'THEIR WILL BE NO SPOON FEEDING IN MY CLASS'.... so he gets near the end, and he switches tone a little; requesting all the members of the aboriginal/koorie association on campus to stay around after class. I stay around with the other koories after class. The lecturer stands beside a high brilliant white stack of paper. 'Here are all the extra course notes guys, and we know you may have some problems, so if you need any help don't be afraid to ask...'." - Kylie

Kylie comprehends were she stands, just as much as she understands the inherent hypocrisy of the university system. A system were lecturers talk of refusing to 'spoon feed' their class during a lecture, yet provide all the special, underprivileged kids with the necessary spoon, crooning all the while about 'here comes the food plane, *butta..brut..buttttatta* open the hanger, their's a good boy/girl, make shore you don't let any get away now! Swallow it all'.

I guess its just plain and simple that capitalistic needs are overriding normal student wants - countless classes are cut as they are no longer 'economically viable', tutorial sizes increase in the name of efficiency, university is shortened from 14 to 12 weeks; and the list goes on -; whilst at the same time, the politically correct are treated like children, in order to provide the institution with a sympathetic and humanitarian facade.

Liberal Education my ass

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POSTSCRIPT: with all this in mind, i am talking about university from the standpoint of a BA (arts) student, a field that, unlike say economics or engineering is not about route learning; but instead individual engagement. A field that is meant to lead to more questions, not parroting. I guess i just worry that the arts degree as dreamed about and often parodied is dying; and it fricken makes me wanna snap!