Or... today, contemptuous. The girl next to me keeps making 'eewwww' faces whenever sustainability is mentioned. The prof tells us about the likelihood of private transit being outlawed in the next two decades, and she makes an entirely different face. You poor thing. You might have to take the *bus*. o.O Today we talked about how vegetarians use forty percent less global resources apiece than carnivores. She suggested we just use cloning to make more animals - at which point I felt obligated to point out that you'd still have to feed the animals. Four tonnes of wheat to one tonne of beef (those numbers are completely wrong, I'm pretty sure, but it was a great big imbalance, anyway). She seems to take the whole "resources are limited regardless of human desire" thing as some kind of personal affront. She wears polyester. Lots of it. She scares me. People like her are the reason we're all going to die in twenty years when we reach that magical point of kickover between unrestrained consumption and scarcity. The *really* scary part is that she's not the only one - half the class makes these faces. How did these people live through the reduce-reuse-recycle era of the nineties? I know they were *there*. But we seem to have put that whole silly "conservation" thing behind us as a thing of the past. Disposable washcloths? Disposable mops? Disposable *dusters*? Bloody anthropocentrism. Sigh.
My creative writing prof is a jackass. Yup. He failed the guy next to me on the first assignment because it was one line over the limit - and he didn't actually *tell* us "one page", either. I read the scene - it was good, even. Not great, but he tells me this was his first try at prose - in which case it was awesome. I really, *really* hate profs who mark more on format than content.
There was something I was supposed to be doing... I should go try and remember what it was.