i know why the College Student Sings!!!!!!!!!!!

Academia is practiced everyday, some are students of social relations of people and human smiles (my brother Farmer). Some are students of students and relations between the word student of students. Some are jarheads raging in boredom, I think i might be an academic jarhead! Now ! Kerouac hated College Students and he has good reason to, we of "the none identity middle class" (I believe were his exact words) have nothing better to do then read, live (or search for satisfaction), and appreciation the art of other people and  then sleep (th ebest and worst part of my day). 

What academia is the academics of sublimity, what and were can i learn this art without losing touch with my roots as a consumer? Does the Academic have any say in the world of reality or are we doomed to detachment and endless philosophy and normal human relations? Where does the academic sit in reality? Does he or she come in contact with anything of the Real? Is the academic a sort of Intellectual Warrior or is he a socially respected mystic, a madman reading obscure texts, worrying about the souls and lives of imaginary people, and looking for reality in the words of words written by other people?

I argue that the academic on rare occasion crosses this line between the real and the unreal and sits on the darkness and light created by greater minds, he or she is an artist in that they can understand what others only have a faint (but beautiful) impression of truth/sublimity/reality(then again i consider these things combined). But great minds think alike so that's why on the rare occasion the philosophers stone is granted to the academic an one could reveal the true meaning behind the books that reflect and affect the lives of millions, where does the academic sit? Were does the student who learns from the academic sit? Now we can say that all people are students on this journey called life..........................and then we are left with the notion that all men and women are academics, mystics, wildmen, madman, searching, grasping , ignoring, restless, bored, hungry....................................................................................

or maybe not . Maybe  we are content in our material existence and the academic like the artist sits on the periphery of  a grand  comedy/tragedy of natural drive.

and perhaps (as is a prerequisite of my generation) this is just a manafistation  "hyperbahlee" of the middle class non identity boredom.