Philosophy classes are stressing me out. I thought it’d be a bit of…well, not ‘fun’, but informative. I never got the chance to pick philosophy as a subject at school. Little place in the country…and none of the teachers were offering it. So now I thought I’d fill in some of those dull evenings.
Phew. It’s all postmodern stuff, talking about how no one is making anything new, how we can’t trust anything because there’s no objective truth, and how the world is steadily sinking into a mire of hopelessness. It’s *interesting*, but not fun.
The worst thing is that I sit at the back and I can hear the other lesson through the wall. It’s a night class on being a property advocate. You know Melbourne is going through a craze, and lots of people want a piece of the buyers advocate pie. They got someone along to do the job, and whoever he is, he has a really nice voice. Our philosophy professor at the front, growling away about how life at its core is meaningless, and I’m sitting up the back happily listening to how you can find high-end properties faster if you build up a network of contacts. And it IS true. Just think of all the high-end properties you can find, if you gather together a useful network of contacts, not that it matters because the universe will soon collapse into entropy, but it DOES matter because we still need to live in houses. Everyone needs houses. It’s one of the most basic human needs, to have four walls and a roof…of sorts. I think I’m mixing up my lessons. Can’t help it. I’m getting someone Melbourne’s best buyers advocate advice in one ear, and doom and gloom in the other. I really did pick the wrong class.
I wonder if they’d let me switch if I started taking notes on the class through the wall?