Phrembah (a potato-like mystery) (phrembah) wrote,
Phrembah (a potato-like mystery)
phrembah

Another late night, another English paper.

This is decidedly my least favorite subject. Not writing, exactly, I kind of like that. It's like talking to hear yourself talk. That's me. But this literary analysis stuff. Jeez. It's just not my thing. Our text has "analysis hints" at the end of every selection with suggested symbolism and possible hidden meanings and ulterior motives and such. I can usually see it once they say it, but none of it is anything that would occur to me on my own.

And this PHd. English dude who has been doing this for decades and eats it for breakfast thinks we can write a paper by hand in class, even doing more than one draft if necessary. I simply can't write that fast, much less think about what I'm writing. Mind you it needn't be perfect. Strike-throughs are allowed as are circles and arrows explaining how you would reorganize it if you had the time, but still. He usually takes half an hour to explain what we are supposed to do leaving us an hour and twenty minutes to crank the thing out. Yeah, right. He has been very forgiving and generous so far, but it still causes me a good chunk of angst.

I much prefer the take-home assignments that I can use a word processor on and give some thought to. Some thought besides, "How the fuck am I going to get this done before 9:20?"

One of the purposes of the class is to get you used to taking blue-book type essay tests, organizing your thoughts quickly and getting them down on paper coherently in a class period. This will be invaluable in your upcoming academic career. Well, I have no intention of making a career out of this academic stuff and with any luck this will be very nearly my last "liberal arts" course. The hilarious part is that I tested out of classes that this one is supposedly prerequisite to, but I still needed three more hours of English on general principles and this was acceptable and available. So there you go.

He also accepts papers by e-mail up until midnight on the day they are due so that if you hand it in in the morning and find out during class that you totally screwed up, you can go home and re-wright it. What a comfort. Like I don't have anything else due in any other class tomorrow or the next day.

I had to laugh just now. I am writing this rant for no other reason than to wind down before hitting the sack after writing a paper that had to be over 700 words and turned out to be about 1100. Semagic tells me that I have, in fifteen minutes or so, just typed over 500 words. Jeez. So what am I bitching about? The difference is that your English paper cannot be a pointless rant (not nominally, anyway) and, as shitty a typist as I am, I can still type fifty times faster than I can write longhand.

OK. Bedtime for sure this time.
Tags: compelling chronicle, profundity extraordinaire
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