Officially, JP Reyes taught an elective called Cultural Capital in Popular Media, but the kids who signed up for his class knew better. They called it Coolness Studies. 

What else would you call a subject that discussed the aesthetic roots of kawaii and neo-Marxist readings of normcore fashion? 

Frankly, he was slightly baffled that the College of Letters approved it at all. He guessed that the Jesuits who run the university wanted to put up an image of academic laissez-faire, and his pet topic seemed quirky but inoffensive enough.

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A decade ago, it might have been appropriate to call him a Scholar of Coolness. At grad school in Melbourne, "reviewing related works" meant tracking down obscure French New Wave films on Kazaa. Back then, he could pass off going to a Belle and Sebastian show as field research. 

Now the moniker just seemed ironic for a guy who spent most of his non-work hours toddler-proofing shelves full of accumulated vintage baubles, and looking up the relative health benefits of different infant formula brands.

But it wasn't even just the "Coolness" part that seemed off. It had been years since he last gave a public lecture (on video bloggers as Gramscian organic intellectuals) and even longer since he published anything noteworthy.

(Those pro bono articles for PopMatters didn't count.)

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Granted, during the period in question, his wife Alex had been delivering almost the same talk about community-based permaculture farming in Nueva Vizcaya, at different conferences and TEDx type events around the "Global South". 

At least it felt like her ideas were actually making a difference among decision-makers and thought leaders. JP was genuinely proud of her success, but it also made his professional credentials seem as relevant as a Kriss Kross Mini-Disc single.

JP's trust in Alex was unwavering, but he detected a sense of longing in her voice whenever she'd talk about "venture philanthropists" in their mid 20s engaging rural folks with disruptive tech for social entrepreneurship. 

She was especially fond of Raj Viswanathan, the "Elon Musk of Bangalore". She would regale him with tales of how Raj used a Sim City-like virtual environment to model functional permacutlure zoning systems in the real world. He also designed the "smart" greywater filters used by her org's demo farm. 

The underlying message seemed to be: why can't you be more like him? JP knew it meant that she believed he could do better, but he acted like he was too deep in soiled diapers and messy piles of Lego bricks to do anything about it. 

Instead, he made half-assed promises to try self-help programs, then he'd jerk off to Suicide Girls, once Alex jetted off to Bangkok or Dhaka or wherever the next development summit would be.

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Of course, JP's students were never privy to any of this. So when Jess Natola and Lucy de Castro stepped into his office for a post-semester catch-up, they expected a meeting with Professor Hipster McAwesomesauce, PhD.

In fact, JP didn't want to be bothered. Jess had turned in a particularly underwhelming paper about Lana Del Rey as postmodern celebrity, and her grade reflected that. He was in no mood for groveling over shoddy research. But Lucy had submitted a very well-considered analysis of Thought Catalog and "post-cool" earnestness. She had been mostly quiet in class, so he was genuinely interested in having a more in-depth conversation with her.

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"Typhoon Jess" breezed through JP's office. She rummaged through yellowing back issues of The Believer, and made his collectible kaiju toys play-fight with the replica Damien Hirst diamond-encrusted skull. She even put on his limited edition Gang of Four record without asking permission first. 

"So were you really at the first Coachella?" she asked him. She was trying to sound doubtful or challenging, but the tenor of her voice gave away how impressed she was. 

When "Damaged Goods" came on, her smile lit up, and she begun an inappropriate half-twerk. She tried making eye contact with JP, as she shook her negligible ass in jean shorts that flaunted the school dress code. 

If that wasn't awkward enough, the feathers in her "Indian" headband started falling off—clearly she had not understood JP's lessons on the politics of appropriation. 

Either that, or she just didn't give a shit.

Meanwhile, Lucy just sat on the couch, barely hiding her discomfort with her friend's behavior. She offered JP a sympathetic glance, looking to him to get control of the situation.

"Jess, please..." he almost stammered. He turned down the volume on the portable record player. "Jess..." he repeated, raising his voice. "Miss Jessica Natola, will you please conduct yourself in a more respectful manner!"

Jess paused, and eased herself back onto the couch.

"I'm sorry, Jessica. I realize the semester is over, and I appreciate your interest in my work," he continued. "But I'll need to keep things strictly professional, even when dealing with former students. Believe me. I don't like having to do all this..."

"Hailing!" blurted Lucy, finishing his sentence.

"Excuse me?" said JP.

"Hailing," said Lucy, almost under her breath. "Like Althusser."

"You... You've read Althusser?" asked JP, taken aback.

"Well, kinda. More like Wikipedia entries and stuff," she said. "But I get the concepts, you know?"

JP nodded, trying to keep it casual. He feigned his best "not bad" expression.

That just seemed to fluster Lucy even more. A noticeable blush came over her slightly round cheeks, as Jess gave her a wary side eye. "Oh, it's nothing really. I just happened to be reading it this morning, and when you freaked out like that, I..."

"No, it's cool. I encourage that kind of exploration," he said. "Intellectually, I mean."

"Of course," said Lucy.

"Well, I might have a digital copy of that essay on Ideological State Apparatuses, if you're interested in reading more Althusser."

"Thanks, Mr. Reyes," Lucy said, emphasizing the honorific. "I would appreciate that."

Jess cleared her throat loudly. "I hate to butt in on all the... interpellatio, but Lucy and I really need to get to Route 196 for the Attraction Reaction gig. Isn't that right?"

Lucy seemed disappointed but she was mostly used to Jess' moody behavior, by this point.

"You should come by, Mister R.—you might see something you like," said Jess. "Intellectually, I mean."

With that, Jess practically dragged Lucy out of the room with all the speed her calf-high boots could muster. As they rushed out, JP distinctly noticed Lucy turn her head, then hurriedly look away when she caught his eye.

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Later that night, JP had a new mental image to jerk off to.