We are midway through the last exams we’ll ever write at CRTS. The profs sent us packing with seven of them, the most we’ve written in a semester outside of first year. We’ve done four – Dogmatics, Poimenics, Church Polity, Greek – with the other three waiting patiently and ominously, as exams are wont to do.
Personally, I think it’s a shame that we can’t smoke during exams. Some of our readings this semester were from Rev. Van Oene’s book, Inheritance Preserved. There’s hardly a picture in the book where the men aren’t smoking – that has to count for something. I’d probably score lower on my exams overall, as packing and tamping the pipe does take time. That, and smoking itself tends to be ponderous and lazy, whereas exams require speed and diligence. Who knows, though, the tension between the two may just result in some Barthian insights. But even if the grades were lower, they’d be better, if you know what I mean. (And yes, you do gain a thing or two in life by not smoking. But what do you lose? For an enjoyable read, check out Michael P. Foley’s essay, “Tobacco and the Soul,” over at First Things.)
Shifting in my seat
Warming briar deepens thought
Hand on the brow, the mid-exam phase.
Room’s too clear for proper mind-gaze.
A match and a flare,
Slow draw debonair;
Fresh air matures into a blue haze.