brains, sauteed over a low flame.
It’s official: Photography class is bad for one’s physical and mental health. Not that we didn’t all know that before — today was just a confirmation, when our experienced board of scientists (aka, the ironically appointed F Period class) conferred and decided that yes, Photo is less than beneficial. Now, it’s not photography that we so strongly dislike. No, most of us enjoy snapping away, and one or two of us actually wish to pursue art degrees. What we hate is the class itself: melting our brains over darkroom chemicals, slaving away to futile ends, and each other. We have managed to foster a hate for each other so great that we’ve bonded over it. It’s a rare complex that we like to refer to as “Photo F Syndrome”. In most cases, it can drive one to suicide, homicide, or genocide.
Okay. Rant over. I wonder how many SAT words I managed squeeze into that? But that’s what Photography does, my friends… that’s what it does. On a (much) brighter note, I finished my first roll of film in my LC-A+ today! Photos should be arriving around… Sunday? I just learned that it’s twelve dollars per roll at the local drugstore, and an actual roll of film costs about six. Curse small-town inflation.
