The first day of class, he pried open the lessons of this simple case. No new assignment given. Day two, same thing. Then day three, and so on, until we had spent three weeks of three classes each on this one case. And it was utterly fascinating, without repetition or wasted time. My favorite class.
Now, along the same lines, I've been thinking that I could teach a semester-long, three credit-hour, college-level humanities course on Bob Dylan's Highlands. Well, at least I could warp young minds at a Catholic high school co-op with such a course.
Highlands, over the years, has grown on me, grown on my mind, to the extent that I think it may be (outside of the ancient Liturgy) the best modern expression of man's longing for heaven. Highlands has everything: theology, philosophy, politics, meditation, irony, humor, rhetoric, and poetry.
Wikipedia describes the song's structure this way:
St. Paul refers to the soul's prayer of an inexpressible groaning (insert Dylan voice joke here). Plato speaks of Forms. They're both right here. You don't like Dylan? You don't understand.
What is your Highlands?