Nott What You'd Expected...

Reading Week? For What? Reading? Reading What?!

Hmmmm. So, despite the fact that a normal week in my Nott life consists of 5 total hours of classes, the braintrust at the Uni has deemed it necessary for each department to claim a random 'reading week' at some point during the semester (not to be confused with Dead Week before finals, or the fact that we have a month between the beginning of Winter Holiday and the end of Finals, in which no classes occur....). By chance, by luck, by providence or divine intervention, all but one of my classes have decided that this week would be a perfect chance to 'slow things down'(is that possible) and have claimed this week as Reading Week.

The effects of reading week have been astounding. Rather than going to Uni, we don't. Rather than waking up before 11am, we don't. While the obvious intent was to allow students to study and catch up, as far as I'm concerned, it's having the exact opposite effect. I feel lazy, unproductive (what else is new), and I'm finding it very hard to complete my long-term assignments- the only assignments, really, that we are charged with here, save for a weekly Paidiea Essay, which again, I have yet to finish....

I would like to blame this on the 'European lifestyle', the slowing down, chilled out version of what Americans call 'everyday life', but I think it's only fair to classify the Italians or French or Spanish in that way- in England, they're just as anal and uptight (if not moreso) than back in the U S and A. So I'm left with no solid conclusion except to say that, while Uni may be hard for those actually taking 5 or 6 classes there, we've got it easy (but again, I haven't experienced the hell of 2-hr finals that count for 100% of the grade yet.....)

Taking advantage of the lack-of-classes, last night Brandon and I attended our first Real Ale Society Social, a night out at a comedy club for 5 quid- 4 comics and 1 free pint for 10 dollars. To start, our journey there was serendipidous (that's not how you spell that...)- we took a tram to city centre, wandered past St. Mary's, and found Bunker Hill Inn only because we had stopped to contemplate which street we were going to investigate next.... (to continue the divinely inspired trip, I didn't have money, but Brandon had exactly 10.02 in change....creepy)

We showed up, claimed our free pints, and made our way upstairs to find the room....Completely empty. After waiting around, the room started to fill, and when the first act took stage there were a total of 20 less-than-rowdy students (most of which studied Maths and Genetics, so make your own assumptions about how exciting they were to watch comedy with). The show started slow, but defitninly picked up. British comedy is different than the US in many respects, and since you're reading this, you're probably hoping that I'll list them. It's your lucky day:

1) in England, wittiness and audience interaction are key- at one point a drunk guy came into the back of the room and started yelling at our first comic. He took it and ran with it. He lambasted (is that correct usage?) the guy, making fun of his new shoes, calling him the spawn of Satan, and making fun of his clothes. The comic also cajoled one very albino-looking fellow who kept checking his cell phone (it went off 4 times during the 4hrs we were there), calling him a Nazi (coincidentally, the guy was in Genetics....the irony was not lost)

2) vulgarity takes new heights...... the final act was a 33 year old genius of a comic whose style was to sit and tell stories. Not just stories, but wildly exaggerated stories that would meander into all kinds of directions, and return back at the point. He talked about past sexual exploits, drugs, his crappy marriage, his dumb kids, his crappy life, etc. He was the best comic I've ever seen.... on TV or otherwise- Seriously, Dane Cook blows compared to this guy. While some British words and slang were confusing as hell at times (especially references to towns and cities, stereotypes of people that we couldn't grasp) Seriously inspiring.

3) Religion is a target like nothing the US has ever seen. All comics (aside from the first guy, who actually hosts a Christian radio show), made Jesus a topic of conversation. One guy talked about how Jesus was always clothes on the cross, and made a reference to the Romans playing tetherball with his endowment, while another guy (in the best Joke of the night) compared evangelists or street peformers talking about Jesus to 17 year old girls in a disco (in a girly voice: "Oh my God, my friend likes you alot....she thinks you're really cool....")

Brandon and I felt awesome, being the only Americans in the room, because after the first comic found out we were from the States, the rest of them got in on the action, and made tons of references to the US, asked us questions, and involved us in the show. They were conscious to explain slang to us, explain jokes that would be lost on us, and mentioned just about every American connection that they had (the last guy owned a Hawkeyes shirt....)

Now that I've wasted 20 minutes of my reading day, I really should get going. Another inspiring Paidiea lecture tonight, along with an essay that I really should have finished yesterday at 6pm. Win some, lose some I guess.

PS- if anyone has ever read Melville's Bartleby and can explain, in simple terms, what the hell is going on, I'd be much obliged. Too much symbolism. eh.

posted by Kevin @ 11:19 AM