AT THE ART SCHOOL

Thursdays, we have cathartic movies. Most of them are only about ten minutes of medium close-up shots on copulating couples. Everything's done through yellow and orange filters – to make it beautiful. We do student versions of the same thing, it's very erotic, but the school won't buy us any filters, so we just have somebody hold red acetate in front of the lens. We always end up wasting a lot of film, though, because people on the sets are constantly talking and laughing and criticizing the actors. More, we are not permitted to let the actors actually engage – not even homosexually. "Engage" – that's the word, used by the school, to refer to sexual intercourse between actors. We have discussion every day, always the same story: several hours of people bullying each other with their enthusiasms. Every now and again, the school brings in a semi-famous director so that he can hold forth about his work, or gossip about famous people he doesn't like, or simply delectate on the pleasures of sexual intercourse. Some smartass always has to raise the question: "Isn't all this just porn?" One director came in and set his chair up, at the front of the room, turned his back to the screen, and watched us watch his movie. It was funny, though, because a bunch of us turned around in our chairs and watched the projector. Of course, the guy claimed that he knew we were going to do that – that he'd even planned it. Oh, if only somebody could've called his bluff! But, of course, you see how these bastards operate.