day three: vv

victor vitanza. The man. The myth. The legend. And I'm back in his class. But let's back up...

Josh and I start our day with a brisk walk up the side of a mountain. Well, nearly. We start down a path headed away from town -- a direction we've not yet explored. Before too long, we come to a fork in the road. We start with the left, but soon decide that the steep pitch and muddy path are a bit too much for 7am. We retreat, start again, this time to the right. This takes us back, around, and through, until we find a resort of sorts that appears to be undergoing renovations. Oh, and a ridiculously steep drop off the edge of the mountain. We head back.

Class begins at 10am (making morning walking and then breakfast completely reasonable), and I find myself once more preparing for the vitanza experience. I haven't had this directly since my first year in rcid. At that point, after each weekly class, I'd call my dad, alternately excited for the mind-blowing knowledge and experience, or crying, convinced I'd never make it through this. Two years later, all ABD'd, I'm more optimistic with those prospects. But here, I'm faced with v for three hours, twice a day, for three days, and all on Lyotard (a French post-structuralist philosopher perhaps most known for his work on libidinal economies and the differend). I quickly realize that I'm not the same pre-scholar who walked into Clemson; I follow (as much as one can) v's moves, the theories unfolding in fits and starts, gestures, asides, tangents and word play. The sheep bleating outside fit nicely into the whole experience. This is going to be fun.