Word: vapid
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...feel about clever, hip-liberal eastern literary establishment parodies of vapid hip-faddish eastern media establishment decade "retrospectives"? Like 'em? Then get this book. But don't read it or you might be numbed by the sheer volume--263 large pages--of News week format articles ridiculed by formula...
...inane lecture followed inane lecture, I realized, with increasing dismay and anger, that this was it. Harvard: a professor mumbling about arcane and vapid subjects, in love with the sound of his own voice, while I sat resentfully, one of hundreds. In sections, wan-looking graduate students droned on and on about trivial points in lectures while pathetically overeager students fell over each other to answer stupid questions. My knowledgeable proctor had screwed up again--he hadn't warned me that huge survey courses are probably the least challenging and most poorly taught classes at Harvard. I felt academically betrayed...
...inane lecture followed inane lecture, I realized, with increasing dismay and anger, that this was it. Harvard: a professor mumbling about arcane and vapid subjects, in love with the sound of his own voice, while I sat resentfully, one of hundreds. In sections, wan-looking graduate students droned on and on about trivial points in lectures while pathetically overeager students fell over each other to answer stupid questions. My knowledgeable proctor had screwed up again--he hadn't warned me that huge survey courses are probably the least challenging and most poorly taught classes at Harvard. I felt academically betrayed...
...humor to shine out. Marie-France Pisier performs most of the heavy dramatics; she gives her Colette a certain desperation well-suited to a woman lawyer unable to get clients and reduced to turning tricks on the night train to Aix-En-Provence. Dorothee gives the vapid Sabine the right amount of charm and selfishness to attract an aging, self-styled masochist like Antoine...
...nice comvinient life before me. Relax for once, after three brain-wracking years at school. Live in Cambridge, maybe have another baby, buy my furniture at Design Research, maybe write, maybe get a job. As I sat watching Picnic at Hanging Rock this future started to look very vapid. Those blue-green gum trees. Gates fastened with rusty coat hangers. That still clean land. I have to go back...