You remember when you were all about to change the world and what’s wrong with those old white guys in power and didn’t they get it?
Brennan’s sketch in the margins during a too-long lecture in art school.
Then you were in college and you were late for class because you were at the all-night vigil or you were hung over or you just met this guy and your roommate was a total shit and your face was friggin breaking out again. The ancient-lizard-wizened-turtle art history prof was lecturing in monotone and didn’t they even have stereo? His frequent coughs were like a sand storm trying to get off the ground and you wondered while he was droning on and on about zeitgeist if you shouldn’t just stand up, take off your clothes and dive out that third floor lecture hall window, and you made little sketches in the margins and they looked like this.