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and I findbrieflya fresh tormentor among the new inmates who have arrived to receive
the Evangelist’s curious wisdom.
Donnie Finch is a Big Bad Kid. This is to say he is strongsportydelinquent (in a very
minor way) and antipathetic to anyone who pays more attention in class than he does. He is
instantly well-likedinstantly obnoxiousinstantly aware of his social inferiors. He backs
me against the wall between French and biology and announces that I will henceforth call
him “sir.”
This is the thing that I hate above all others. Donnie Finch does not know me. He has no
reason for his animosity. He just knows that it is the Done Thing. He is Donnie Finch. I am
not. He is a football heroa smoker and a joker. I am not. Thereforein the only
mathematics which interest himI am to be despised and picked on. He presses his thick
damp hand in the middle of my chest and sneers. (I think of Mr. Lasserly.) This is habit. It
is literally mindless: Old Man Lubitsch’s horrible determinist bee society writ large and
sticky-fingered. There can be no discussionno nuancebecause either of these asserts a
world which Donnie Finch’s picture of life denies. He eschews these things and chooses
instead an off-the-shelf al [link widoczny dla zalogowanych]yilai:
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