I apologize for neglecting the blog this past week. But, seriously, I have solid excuses for my negligence.
1) I signed up for an extra course this semester, assuming I would choose to drop one course once I got the syllabus and/or decided the professor offended me through the wearing of bad shoes or something. (That's a partial joke. There was once a professor I swore I couldn't hear over his deeply unfortunate neckties.) I have not been able to choose a course to eliminate, and will be taking an overload. Just for kicks. So, apparently, the only thing necessary for me to start enjoying the university is to decide to leave it for a bit. Huh.
2) Somebody slid on the ice and crunched my car. All parties are healthy, and my car is still almost fully functional (there's a door that will not close when opened without the help of a very large, very fit man; my car door is now sexist), but I'm a little pouty about it. For all the wrong reasons, actually. Here's the deal: while my car was in pristine condition, I could pretend that I was driving a super-old car in a sort of ironic retro-cool gesture. Now, with the clear impression of another car's nose in my super-old car, it has been demoted from ironic retro-hip to junky old car. Damn it, I hate that. I am impressed in another way, though. You oughtn't to be able to smush my tank with a little zippy car, and you certainly shouldn't be able to do so without damage to your car. So, someday, when I have all the books I want, and lots of extra non-book money, I will buy the type of car that smushed mine. 'Cause, wow.
In other news:
* I may have a slightly inappropriate crush on Terry Eagleton now, because -- thanks in large part to his book -- I'm beginning to understand what people are talking about when they get all jargony.
* Slightly related question: Does anybody know which section of Poet's Corner one looks in for all the references that I can't find in British Critic's writing? I've looked at footnotes, and chapter notes, and endnotes, but I still can't find justification for some of the rather startling assertions that show up in "We're all English gentlemen here, and we all know X" form in the writing of British scholars. Well, maybe I don't need the location of the crypt in Poet's corner so much as The Complete Yank's Guide to Accepted English Gentleman's Knowledge. Does Amazon carry that?
2 comments:
Does that mean that you're sort of joining the dark side of theory heads?
C'mon over. We have fun!
Well, I dunno about joining the dark side just yet. However, the TheoryHead speak has stopped sounding like people mumbling phrases like 'fliznit kerflanleflooga dis" to me.
Also, slightly bad news for me, but it appears I wrote a very long paper in Undergrad arguing a specific case of a theoretical construct without knowing it. So, literally, my very long paper could have been reduced to "Hey! Theory Guy 3 noticed a literary pattern that's just all over these 3 poems. Weird."
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