the boston manifesto: a side effect
So the occupation that I’ve been involved with has ended after a majestic run and I’ll have to find something else to do with my spare hours. Lots to say about it all once I’ve calmed down a bit. But one final wonderful side-effect: they / we had an “after party” at the Boston, a block or so from my place, last night. The Boston is the ultimate source or at least the venue where so many of the life-crisis horrors that I’ve obliquely chronicled on this blog over the last year or so occurred or at least occurred to me. It would be hard to describe what an intimate relation I have to the place, which has served for me as a sort of outfolding in the world of the infolded shit in my head.
But last night in that place I was surrounded by students that I’ve come not only to respect in a new way (lets say ethically rather than simply intellectually) but also to love a bit. One is continually faced, in this business, with the question why bother. It’s hard work, and hard in ways that other work isn’t. But this has made me remember why it’s all worth it and so Monday, despite the fact that I can’t stop off at the Jeremy Bentham Room after work and despite the fact that Higher Ed is generally heading into the shit, I’ll go in happier and more sure of what I’m doing and why I’m doing it.