Course Catalog for the Final Semester
A small college decides to run one last semester. The course listings, prerequisites and grading policies, as issued by a registrar who saw no reason to change the format.
A reading room for terminal culture
Room 04/10 collections and diversions filed under
The cabinet is where the archive keeps what does not fit anywhere else: dispatches too strange to file under news, conspiracy theories cataloged as folklore, a gallery of grotesque plates, a register of book curses and a drawer of gallows humor. The tone is deadpan because the material does not need help. Where an entry explains rather than collects, it is as serious as anything on the theory shelves.
A small college decides to run one last semester. The course listings, prerequisites and grading policies, as issued by a registrar who saw no reason to change the format.
Before museums there were cabinets of curiosities. A librarian on why people collect the strange, where the habit turns dark, and what a collection is for.
Medieval scribes guarded their books with curses. A short history of the form, its most famous forgery, and twelve curses for the borrowers of today.
A running file of reports too odd for the front page: a clock that runs backward by popular consent, and a doomsday postponed for a dog show.
Eight small, harmless and entirely invented conspiracy theories, pinned out like moths and labeled by structure.
Six works in the grotesque manner, with notes: a choir of teeth, a face with too many eyes, a saint made of pylons.
They are not believed because people are stupid. They are believed because they do several things a good explanation ought to do.
By continuing to exist you agree to the following. A standard-form agreement governing the conclusion of all things.
Twelve dates on which the world was confidently expected to end and did not, with a note on what the believers did the following morning.
The small ads from the final edition of a local paper that went on printing after there was no news left to report.
Nothing of that kind is shelved in this room yet.