Rabid monkeys with fancy tools

It was a boring lesson. Badly lit hall. Lecturer was speaking too softly. He had his funny moments, though. My eyes I’d blink and they’d stay closed. So I rested my cheeks on my palms, elbows on the table. Promptly fell asleep. Woke up about quarter of an hour later and the page in front of me was pretty darn wet. There was still a trail of saliva from my mouth to its destination. Thank god I was sitting alone. Honestly.
An observation. Body language is interesting. Why do people, particularly males, have this need to assert their dominance over others? This morning we had class with a group of teachers who were ‘back to school,’ so to speak. These were some old birds. Our lecturer, male, could call him experienced, asked one of the teachers to stand in front of class to present some stuff on morphology and morphemes. When the old bird was up there, said lecturer, who was still standing, put his leg up on a chair, posing ala Legolas or Will Turner. Doh. Maybe I misinterpreted it. Perchance he was just airing his balls.
But even in normal conversations. We can only be comfortable with people once the dynamics of dominance and submission are established. Only when we fit into the roles we subconsciously set for ourselves, can we truly say that we belong to a particular group. Human nature. Strange shit. Boring post. Boring days.

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