"Political culture is....is...ooo?"
I know what it is. I just can't say. I can't explain it. I check my notes.
"Yeah! Yeah! That's it."
After talking to myself, pacing Shamelessly around a little room, muttering about comparative political systems, regime types, constitutionalism and political marketplaces for 2 hours, I wonder if any of it will stick.
Will I be able to convert my private oration into some form of decipherable response on my midterm?
I arrive to the campus early. Coffee in my veins and Belanova, my classmate, across from me. Ideas converge. Heavens, they hardly collide. Is this enough? Are we ready? We agree that at any cost, we just want these words out of our heads and unto the page.
I say a prayer. To the Father.
The exam is long. My hand cramps and vibrates with occasional vehemence as the firm grasp of the pen makes grooves between the clutch of my fingers and thumb. Physical pain. Mental strain.
I know this stuff.
I solider and destroy every question like the competitions in an electoral authoritarian regime, and I become the totalitarian bad-ace of the midterm.
"O? You want to remain blank? You want me to fail? Nah! Nay! I destroy you! Vladmir, take this scum out back and shoot him!"
I murdered my midterm. I paid attention for the past couple of months, I read until I bled, and gracas a Deus, it seems to have paid off.
The exam is over and I have to calm down. I wrote for an hour and a half without cease, and now I'm like a solider returning home after the war. Shell shocked. Flashbacks. All I can think of is the carnage I committed for the flag.
1. If I was anymore prepared for this midterm it would be considered cheating.
2.I should be arrested for the midterm murder in the first degree. No parole. Only 4.0s.
3.My wartime acts of courage will be passed down through the ranks of academia, and all Exam regimes will tremble at mention of my pen and study habits.
I can't deny it. I'm quite thankful in fact. Thank God I live in a regime that allows for education and self expression. Without that, I am part of a parochial or subject sub group of civic culture and my voice has no value.
That's not the case.
I've been blessed with intelligence and opportunity. I prayed for advantageous strength, and I'm no helpless citizen.
I am the Midterm-inator.