The Try-Works

The funniest part, as usual, came with the antics of John G. Martin. I actually had the wrong guy entirely pegged as Mr. Martin, but just before the event began I noticed this weird little middle-aged cat leering at me and kinda hopping up and down in his seat. I went over and asked if he knew me. He jerked around and yelled something at me I couldn’t catch, getting even hinkier and jumpier. So I asked his name, and he refused to answer. Then I figured it out, and asked, “John Martin?” He went apeshit, arms and legs all over the place, and asked me why I want to know. I held out my hand, and said I wanted to shake his hand. He bleated out something about he’d never shake my hand and he wanted to know if I was gonna throw him out personally. I shrugged and told him no, I wasn’t in charge of security and walked away.

He then lost his mind entirely. Started leaping around the auditorium, snapping pictures of students and yelling “Gotcha!” at them. Most of them had no idea who he was. They seemed to think he was just some creepy middle-aged guy who was a little on the disabled side. I didn’t disabuse them of that notion, it being fairly accurate. Every time I glanced his way he was either training a video camera on me or frantically snapping my picture. More power to him. At the beginning of the event, however, he was told to put away his cameras, and after only a little whining, he did so.

He saved the best for last, though. I was walking out of the auditorium at about the two and a half hour mark, and saw a card pinned to the door. I did a double take and realized Martin had pinned it up. It was a corny laser-printed business card with his blog address on it, the background being a picture out of Ten Nights in a Barroom. Just as I picked it off the wall to get a better look at it, I heard this strange, high-pitched, strangled laugh, and looked up to see Martin leering at me again, just before scuttling out the exit door and down the walkway away from the building.

Anyway, we pulled all cards down. Most of students were a little confused as to who the monkeyish old man was. The ones who knew hipped the others to the freakshow Ballerinas that show up to these events. A bunch of people had tried to talk to him, I guess, and he’d done his weird, little aggro bit with everyone. They were a little weirded out, but the final consensus was that these freakshows are gonna show up from time to time to try and provoke a conflict. Best to ignore them.

Update: As non-conferee notes rightly, I didn’t say a whole lot about the actual conference. Fair, I just had to jot the above down while I was still chuckling over it. All in all, I thought the event went well. I agree generally with Jim Paine’s numbers. I looked around every so often, taking count. I thought it was criminally under-attended, particularly given the prominence of the speakers. But, that said, I could only stay for about half the event, so I don’t know how the numbers turned out.

Dean Saitta was wonderful. His discussion of interdisciplinary knowledges really pegged why I’m interested in Ethnic Studies in the first place. I’m a Literature guy, particularly interested in depictions of American Indians in Euro-American literature, and that’s a branch of literary studies which I think demands an interdisciplinary approach. There was a lot there in what he said, and I’ll have to decompress a little before I get too into it.

I also thought Matthew Abraham tied in Norman Finklestein’s case with Ward Churchill’s beautifully. I liked his defense of Ward Churchill’s original essay. As you know, if you’ve been reading here, I liked that essay. Abraham really nailed why. Chris Mato Nunpa was also very compelling. A great speaker. Very funny, very engaging.

And, of course, the students who spoke were wonderful. Y’know, this is their gig. They’ve been the ones pushing this resistance, and I think they’ve done a wonderful job. They’re out there on a limb, with very little support, doing what they believe in. You can agree or disagree with it, but it takes a measure of courage that I’ve been humbled by for the last semester.

Update II: This just in from Pirateballerina:

Churchill’s dog, Benjie, has posted his own report on the Emergency! National! Forum! (formerly the National! Emergency! Forum!) at CU. Apparently, John Martin of Drunkablog was so bored with the droning sound emanating from the stage that he had to improvise his own entertainment, a sort of over-the-top “Top o’the world, Ma!” burlesque, the sheer comic genius of which completely escaped Benjie, judging by his humorless account. Fascinating and well-acted it must have been, though, since Benjie focuses entirely on John’s antics, and fails to mention the low turn-out or the no-doubt thrilling harangues delivered by the usual host of useless idiots. We do hear the lunch was good, though—just not from Benjie.

Okay, sure. It might’ve been brilliant performance art on Mr. Martin’s part. If so, write the man a contract. It looked to me like a minor meltdown by a serious neurotic. Sure, I was laughing, but by the time he left, I was just happy he hadn’t flashed anybody.