Oh, Spite! Oh, Hell!

In the Harry Potter series, there are some characters called dementors. These characters are Black Rider-esque, in that they travel around cloaked and you never see their faces. However, these dementors have some rather cool/icky tricks up their voluminous sleeves: a dementor can suck all of the joy and happiness out of a person, leaving them feeling cold and despairing. They make you remember your worst memories, and there is no escape from the inevitable depression.

I got to see one in action today.

Let me begin by saying that my Shakespeare class has been my favorite class all semester. We've gotten to read three plays so far, and I've enjoyed it so much. I feel like my cognitive faculties have FINALLY caught up to what Dr. Callis is saying, and it's absolutely fascinating to be in his classes now. We've had some incredible discussions, and it's been 90% perfect. The 10% that has not been perfect, however, is slowly starting to encroach on my enjoyment.

The class is pretty diverse in its members; there are the English majors (Shelby, Aubrey, Jacqueline, myself....you get the idea.) Then there are the athletes (they're actually doing a really good job, I have to admit) and then there's Alex. Alex is a fascinating person to me--he has Asberger's, which is a relative to autism. The kid is astounding. He's interested in a narrow field of things, but he knows absolutely everything there is to know about those subjects. If you ask him what happened on the fourth episode of the second season of "The Mupphet Show," he can give you a verbatim transcript of what each individual character has said. He's extremely well-read, definitely better read than I am.

However, Alex tends to see the world in black and white, with absolutely no gray at all. There are no layers to anything in his world. If he doesn't like something, he will NEVER like it, and it's impossible to try and reason with him. He also doesn't tend to handle disagreement very well--he seems to feel that acceding to someone else's point of view is an affront to his personal morality. As you can imagine, studying The Taming of the Shrew was rather interesting with him around. He loathes Petruchio, while I find Petruchio rather funny. Watching Petruchio and Kate play a very absurd, exaggerated kind of game with one another is fascinating. Alex felt that Petruchio was a chauvinist pig. I love that he's more feminist than I am.

Anyway, we've been on The Merchant of Venice lately. I've never read this play before, so it's been lots of fun. The legal system that Shakespeare portrays is interesting to study in an ethical sort of way. This play also contains the controversial character of Shylock, a Jewish usurer who has loaned money to Antonio which Antonio must repay, or have a pound of his own flesh removed. Grisly, but true. Alex feels that Shylock is grossly misunderstood (which he is, to a certain degree), and that he should be portrayed as a tragic hero. I think Shylock has been wronged horrendously by Antonio and the Christian system, but I tend to lose sympathy for him when he expects grace from the courts of Venice after refusing any semblance of grace to Antonio. Rather hypocritical in my humble, yet accurate, opinion.

Alex was getting more and more upset by the fact that the rest of the class didn't hold much sympathy for Shylock. You've got to understand that by the time class started, we'd already spent an hour in chapel with a man that believed shouting was the greatest avenue to effective communication (he lost me when he started claiming that Dr. Lloyd was the source of all greatness to Crichton. It made me long for the experience of a public schooler for a moment--I'm sure that the ability to correctly aim and fire a spitball would have come in handy). Consequently, we'd all arrived at class hoping for some quiet discussion, due to the residual ringing in our ears. But it was not to be. About three quarters of the way through our class time, things had degenerated to a shouting match. I eventually said rather loudly, "Can we please not turn this into a free-for-all? Everybody just lower the volume a bit. You're giving me a headache." This request went noticed only for about six seconds before the bellowing started again.

Then I noticed that Dr. Callis, one of the dearest, kindest people in the world(I've often compared him to Winnie-the-Pooh), had finally had enough. He'd been very quiet throughout the class, and I guess I understand why now. He looked at Alex and said something to the effect of, "Alex, you've got to let other people learn. Your views are very simplistic. I'm going to ask you to come to class on Friday prepared to let the other students talk, because they're here to learn, too."

Alex made his fatal mistake then. He said, "Well, I just find it really hard to be quiet when I disagree with what other people are saying. But...all right, I guess I'll let the rest of you talk."

A dementor materialized in the room them, I'm positive of it. I distinctly felt the temperature drop at least four degrees. Winnie-the-Pooh turned into a basilisk. Dr. Callis said, very quietly, "You'll let the rest of us talk on Friday?"

All of the other students became extremely absorbed in their hands in their laps, as if marveling at the fact that there really were five fingers on each hand! We'd always thought that that was just an elaborate myth!

"Yeah, I'll let the rest of you talk," said Alex.

Have you all seen that commercial where the little Boston Terrier walks into a room while his family is watching a scary movie? A monster pops up on the screen and the pooch turns his head away with a whine of terror, at the same time losing control of his urinal abilities. He gets up and walks away, looking quite embarrassed at having been so rude as to make a puddle on the floor. My point is, if Dr. Callis had looked at me like that, I have no shame in admitting that I would have tinkled.

Then getting up like an outraged majesty, Dr. Callis collected his books (five minutes early) and swept from the room, the door hitting the wall from where he'd opened it. Students looked in amazement at each other--and then Alex very unwisely decided that it would be expedient to follow Dr. Callis out of the room.

The rest of us knew better. We beat it very hastily out of there. There's no shame in running in certain situations.

Provoke not a professor to wrath, for you are crunchy and good with ketchup.