Dangerously easy / The message of arrival

Dear friends of the arts,

Today was one ruled by academical pressure.
First I fruitlessly tried to find the place where my masterclass 'Mythological tendencies in Dutch literature 1950-2000' was supposed to be taught, within the large maze of buildings, corridors and floors that is called university. Instead of finding this, I found out the class of today was cancelled. I at last found this out thanks to a social medium and the virtual connection with a helpful colleague-student there. This I think is a typical example of how the internet as a tool both has simplified and ads complexity to our daily communication: virtually we're all in touch, in reality we're depending on the willingness of others and even on our own charisma (do or don't we inspire people to connect with us and if we do.., to answer our questions that rise in between the large stream of information which itself appears as a supermarket and a dumpsite at the same time, further it is dangerously easy to disregard one another behind the safe anonymous curtain of ones computer), in order to create the classic structure of communication which requires a sender, a message and an actual recipient.
So, since my class was cancelled, I decided to go and collect the books I am ordered to purchase for the classes I subscribed myself for this new semester. Next to the class I named above, these are called 'Visual critics' and 'Theory of the Avant-garde'. Those names of university courses always make me laugh a bit, though crying sometimes is the activity peeping on the border. What I mean is, most of the time these names to me seem so helplessly full of arrogance and lacking creativity and perspective, that in a way they pretty much become hilarious; in the matchless way the academical world always seems to be so obsessed with taking itself seriously.
However, I went to the bookstore to collect the books (one on the subject of avant-garde theory and one on art history) and the store apparently was out of stock so I ordered them. And the internet again, will bring me the message of arrival; in cases where money is involved no fear of missing the message is needed.
Afterwards, in preparation of the second class in Visual Critics tomorrow, I read the essay of Walter Benjamin 'The work of art in the age of mechanical reproduction'. Though I certainly can say it is an intelligent piece and I don't doubt the current cultural value of it, it kind of made me wanna puke. It must be the to me sickening six years I already spent at university... For the more classes I take in a subject that used to excite me, the more I fervently feel the desire towards the very reason of this excitement, which I found out to be the very opposite of the 'theorisation' ('terrorisation'...) that is academically presented. This opposite namely is, artistic involvement.