Attended University of S. Carolina for a year to do some English major stuff. My philosophy and rhetoric prof was named Daughterman, and he was a true pleasure. In the heart of the Bible belt, he was an outspoken atheist. Early on in his course, he put the reading list on the board, terrifying the troops with it's immensity, and then offered anyone who didn't wish to partake a "C" on the spot. At the door with book in hand he stood. About half the class departed. The rest of us sweated BBs for five superb months. He would take the opposite side in any question, make a brilliant case, obliterate the other side, and then, when the supporters of his position gloated, eviscerate his own argument.
Dry county- booze illegal. I watched him, one night apparently dead drunk in an illegal bottle club. He got into the usual argument with some baptists, and ran out the door waving a broom into the rainy night daring God to do him in. Onto the football practice field he ran, shreiking blasphemous curses at the top of his lungs. The Baptists cringed, and fidgeted.
A flash of light and a simultaneous "BOOM!
The baptist brigade leaped to their feet, and did a keystone cops routine without peer before rushing to the door to find the body. Another huge BOOM! They never came back.
A few seconds later I saw Daughterman sneak back into the rear of the room and sit down with a beer. He waved me over, and drunkenly showed me a pocket full of M-80s.
After they threw him out of the University, he went to New College in Sarasota, Florida (a great art school) to become resident philosopher and dingbat. Grabbing what you can, as John Ruskin said, isn't any less wicked when you grab it with the power of your brains than with the power of your fists.
