occupation: prophet


I need you all to assure me that it shouldn’t take more than 8 hours on Friday to properly add all the footnotes, citations, pictures, and formatting to this thing or Medusa is getting cut for time and really hasn’t she been thru enough?

I am slowly watching this paper become, “No those aren’t sirens, those are harpies. No really, they are. Shut the fuck up you fucking twit.”

I break my day up into 3 parts.

  1. coffee writing at the table
  2. beer writing at the table
  3. beer writing on the sofa while watching star trek

This would likely go faster if I could commit to all day wine writing at the table. However, I am alone at the moment and without company that can quickly spiral into wine weeping at the table.

Day 3 of my self imposed isolation.

I haven’t spoken to another human since Friday, with the exception of one phone call from my adoptive grandmother. She requested to borrow my television. I consented. What use do I have for such a thing now?

I went outdoors today with the intention to buy some sort of lunch. I returned with only beer. This is acceptable.

This project is not complete. I doubt now that it ever will be. I doubt so much.

Pray for my eternal soul, if your god is not yet dead.

Two hours later and I have a complete first paragraph that I will probably end up deleting in the final draft!

Great! Now the only thing left to do is to turn this all this clusterfuckery into a readable paper!

First things first! Let me just turn this ramble-y paragraph into a coherent introduction with a… with a thesis… statement…

Pro-tip: Giving your paper the title “Almost no one is going to read this” makes it easier to write

Alright scholarly F/friends,

I am two hours into my first super rough-ramble draft and I am already boring the fuck out of myself with this repetition.

What are other ways to about talk creatures in ancient art and texts without using the words shown, depicted, described, or represented over and over again?

Clicking my heels.

I am absolutely ecstatic to be going home. This is an odd feeling, as I am technically homeless. Tomorrow morning really can’t get here soon enough.

The most valuable thing I’ve gotten from this experience is the knowledge that I would rather gargle hot glass shards then pursue library sciences. I might have a natural skill set for it but at the end of the day you have to get job satisfaction from helping other people. I’m not that good of a person. It is the same reason I’d be a lousy teacher. I’m not that patient.

If it was just organization, sure. But people go into libraries. People are the worst.

Rant as Promised

Matt Damon ruined my life. Okay, not really… but a little bit, yeah.

Will Hunting was wrong. Let’s start there.

That movie fucked me up. Good Will Hunting came out shortly after my brother died, when I was just entering high school, and I watched that movie a lot. A lot. As one of those somewhat clever kids raised in a poor, working class environment, I understood the struggle of being torn between my hatred of pretentious assholes and my shame for feeling that I was meant to be doing something else. I’m not a genius by any stretch, but I’ve be on the receiving end of the “if you’re still livin’ here… I’ll fuckin’ kill ya,” speech more times than I care to admit. I related.

That stayed with me as I got older. After high school I couldn’t bring myself to pay money to learn anything frivolous (i.e. the humanities). I really took the “fuckin’ education you could have got for a dollar fifty in late charges at the public library” to heart. When I was 19 I worked in retail and then would come home and read Machiavelli because I thought I was suppose to. I was a janitor at 20, sweeping the floors of an industrial factory and tearing my way through Marx on my lunch breaks. Now, years later, I can confirm that Will Hunting was full of shit.

If you want to be generically well-read, have critical thinking skills, and be able to shut up a smug asshole in a Boston bar then yes, you don’t need student loans. However, if you preach that your local library has all the access to everything you’ll ever want, you’re perpetuating the idea that knowledge is accessible to all people if they just want it bad enough and that is bullshit.

The number one thing I’ve learned at this conference? How much information is out there you can’t have. During a conversation about how fucked up academic access really can be, my suite-mate summed up the problem perfectly by saying, “I never realized how much knowledge you have to pay for.” I know I am not the first person to talk about how academia isn’t a big fan of access, but being here and getting to use the Harvard proxy this week… Holy shit.

I understand that people put a lot of work into collecting and organizing this information. I understand that even more work goes into researching that information. I understand the argument that a person’s life work shouldn’t be free to use, and that people need to get paid. I know servers cost money to run.

But the only way a someone can contribute to the discussion is if they can access the discussion in the first place. When the only way you can access that conversation if you’ve been accepted into an elitist club, or into an expensive institution (like any college), then you have to acknowledge information is being held hostage.

I am aware that this isn’t news, but after spending a week being shown all these great resources that I know I won’t be able to access ever again has made me a bit bitter.

side note:

It occurs to me that the reason the FoxNews crew (by which I mean tea-party republicans) intuitively hates academia might be because it is only place where they feel themselves denied all access privilege.

Call On HHS & The FDA To End Their Ban Against Gay & Bisexual Male Blood Donors | We the People: Your Voice in Our Government

Sign this thing, then encourage others to also sign this thing.

In DC. About to see this with maryjosephineblake. Awesome.

In DC. About to see this with maryjosephineblake. Awesome.

YES THANK YOU AWESOME you are a gentlewoman and a scholar and I hope you have all the coffee and pie you ever want in life.

Two things.

One: I love when you call me “a gentlewoman and a scholar”. Hands down the best compliment I’ve ever received and it makes me very happy every time.

Two: Wishing me all the coffee and pie just goes to show that you know me better than most.





I’m so upset

I just realized that the reason ghosts say Boo! is because it’s a latin verb

they’re literally saying ‘I alarm/I am alarming/I do alarm!’

I can’t

present active boōpresent infinitive boāreperfect active boāvīsupine boātum


if it comes from the latin word, they’re actually saying “I’M YELLING!” which is even cuter


Oh dear you should not be asking me. The bible (aka Whitaker’s Words) agrees, but I feel like if Max were here he’d say that doesn’t prove a linguistic link or some nonsense.

UPDATE: Max weighs in: As best as I can tell, there is an etymological overlap, but as you suspected, it doesn’t really prove causation. This article - albeit from Slate - is decent (they consulted someone from the OED and the Visual Thesaurus). The long and short of it is that there’s no clear etymology, but a Latin/Greek connection seems plausible. http://www.slate.com/articles/life/explainer/2011/10/why_do_ghosts_say_boo_.html So there you go kids.

(Source: pidgeling)

This day resulted in a two part rant, by me, concerning both academic and physical accessibility. However, it is not all bad! Let’s focus on the positives and I will write up my rants in the form of calm observations tomorrow.

Positive things:

  • The nice woman who made me espresso yesterday bought me a really tasty double shot cappuccino today. We bonded over her secret espresso stash (that she graciously shares with only me) and our love of afternoon coffee.

  • I ate a super delicious “Bison & Duck” burger today. I ordered it because it was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard of, the program was paying for it, and how many chances and I really going to have to eat a $20 burger?

  • Julie, my temporary roommate, agreed with me that the best course of action after this shitty day was to have Indian food delivered to our room, and then talk until we went to bed. She has a blog, where she writes about food and unfucking your life which you should read and write nice comments on if you are so inclined. (Admittedly, I haven’t looked at all of it yet so I apologize if there is something crazy, but she seems like a really chill person.)

That’s all for now. Rants tomorrow. Apologies in advance.

Jul 9

Quick way to discover who the best people in a room are:

Mutter quietly “I’m at the start of a migraine.”

The answer is grad students. Women in particular. One woman broke into someone’s office because she said, “I know there is a big ass bottle of excedrin in there,” and another raced off to parts unknown to make me espresso.

Things I live for

When an entire table of strangers silently, but simultaneously, agree not to even acknowledge the nonsense that the one pie-eyed person at the table just said.