Derrida is not for Everyone

Okay. So i had to recover from the intellectual violence of my presence in last week's seminar in contemporary theory before i could write this blog. I have ten minutes to type this so bear with me...

Last Friday, we had a guest lecturer who specializes in Derrida and Deconstruction and he came to elucidate for us, the students, the principles of Derrida's theory. Now, i read all the criticisms / materials assigned for that week, and i even laughed out loud when i stumbled upon Derrida's keen sense of humour / irony (something i've never done / was ever able to do before in theory).

I went to the seminar hoping to laugh out loud even more, but, shame on me. I must add that Dr. X did a great job clarifying the relationship between the Platonic dialogues and Derrida's theory about writing / speech and he was even animated and very enthused about the topic. The problem was this: I knew absolutely nothing about Greek myth and, for the life of me, could not begin to wrap my brain around what he was saying. Then, came the numbing pain in the back of my head as my cerebral strings tried as hard as they could to process all the "foreign intelligence." By break-time, i was more than ready to leave but too embarrassed to move. Eventually, the seminar reconvened, but my brain didn't. All his questions went over my head and into the wall behind me as i nervously struggled to maintain my composure. Near the end, my brain finally exploded and gave way to a gush of chemical goo...

When i reached home, i was darn well near depression and had to pull out my undergrad transcript just to remind myself (however corny it may sound) that i am not stupid; that i am qualified to be there, in that seminar; after all, i said to myself, i graduated in the top 3% of the University; and that ought to mean something. It's the least i could do to prevent myself from slitting my wrist.

That's what happens in THEORY. Now, i need to deconstruct how i will survive the rest of the term...