I am going to say but don't... that this view
might be termed pathologically homogeneous.
I struggle for something to say how to methodologically undo her SO consecrated assertion. I formulate something as she continues the blind leading the class with her notions of what art is.
I think of something, I formulate it, 'but surely...a world in which people have undifferentiated emotional and social attachments would be a bleak one, wouldn't it? I don't say. For I know this 'teacher' will brook no argument, besides I might be accused of an excess of erudition if I say something like that.
The teacher's mantra is heard again...'Yes, we are all the same.'
Why are people in the arts, generally viewed as well...how can I put it without enflaming opinion, well...they are viewed as not very academic.
I know what I will say, so I say it, 'if we are all the same....then we have no choice do we?'
'So? Forget about all that...we are all the same.' (she is sounding a tad autistic now).
'Well a definition of fascism is ...if you have no choice then you are under the yoke of fascism. Besides why do my values have to accord with your values?'
'Look, I don't want to argue with you and if you don't like it
you can f...k off out of here.'
I can't believe my ears. I can't believe she said that. I am gob smacked, non plussed; the audacity; the sheer temerity to say such a thing.
I am very, very angry. I walk up to her and look straight at her
'You have just told me to f...k off.' You could hear a pin drop in the class, I then say, 'F....k off does not belong in any argument.'
Goodbye!'
I walk our of the Drama School, into the lights of
London's, Soho. I have never been so angry.
I know there are options that could make this person lose her job, but hey I am not about doing more damage to hippy type thespians. I tell the family when I get back, they, no mean actors themselves turn into a comedy about actors and we roll about laughing for the weekend.
Still hear it though, 'f'...k off and get out'
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