I woke up this morning very clearly aware of the reason I do not like to wake up: waking up means waking up to the university slapping me in the face and then putting me in a barrel of water and covering it, so that I will drown. I will then have to spend the rest of the day trying to get out of the barrel, which I will achieve sometime after dark. While I am in the barrel, the university will tell me how I must learn to sacrifice more. If I learn to sacrifice more, I will not be slapped around so much or put in barrels of water to drown.
Consider the opposite: is the answer that I must learn to sacrifice less?
I am so tired of this behavior and attitude of theirs, though, and I am so tired of hearing professors with good circumstances, well employed spouses, and so on, talk about how all problems are problems of “time management” or of “not knowing how to write” or of “not being serious.” And about how people in my class who left little teaching colleges saying they had not done the Ph.D. for this, were called arrogant, or considered traitors to the “profession.” It is the excoriating professors who are arrogant.
Remember that this week’s themes are conceding to power, rather, not conceding to it.
About practical life, I have said before that I am spread too thin and there is no way I have found so far to cut that down, in the circumstances I have. I do not fit in. I should be an enthusiast of second language teaching with one research interest.
But perhaps there is yet a way to time-manage the situation into submission.
Black Warrior Review takes multiple submissions but some of the places I am interested in, do not. Slipstream does. I am looking at Beloit, which does not and which I like, and also Ibbetson Street, and other places around the Gulf because of some of my subject matter. I am not sure about Slant. In any case, I chose a multiple submissions friendly venue and should therefore choose others.
I have been writing Friday afternoons and those afternoons are bad for driving. I need another afternoon, perhaps not every week, but a regular afternoon, on which I will transport myself either to a library with poetry journals in open stacks or to a bookstore that has them. Many of them.
We are to read Spencer Reece.
Look here. Moro is yet another Peruvian poet with a problematic manuscript tradition, or at least edition tradition. I want this edition of La tortuga ecuestre but this store does not seem to mail internationally.
It is of course better than any of the alleged poems in that book I reviewed, but beyond that is it worthwhile to persons besides myself, je vous le demande.
How many roads lead to Heaven?
If you trip on the bridge, do you fall?
Had some event marked her,
did a single moment fix her to that chair?
Or had a slow accretion, a maze
of impasses melded her bones to the rock?
It may be either or both, as damage comes at every speed
and the effect is the same
We caught fragments of tales but dreamed of loving
an object that would look across at us and not be set
above or below.
A diamond or a comet, perhaps
a fiery gem that would hit us right in the chest
They wanted to tell each other about themselves
sat in twin chairs and rehearsed
What really happened, do you remember,
did you see, was it true? I had heard,
can we know, did he love me, should we call.
Sitting in chairs they repeated fragments.
Interiors once deep, dissolved slowly
They threw and caught lines but
did not hold out their hands
a fiery gem was desirable indeed
We are sifting fragments,
the fragments are of bone.
How many roads lead ahead,
if you trip on the bridge
we are sifting fragments,
the fragments are of bone
the stories have been lost
the fragments told their own
How many roads lead
a world of texture and gaps
figures falling to darkness
settling to the ground
Real Love, from Black Messiah. That is new and you should really listen to the clip.
There’s Voodoo, and you can listen to it all–
and other albums, but I really think this Black Messiah would be the thing to have as you drove through the city, for instance.
Student: This book is something you administer, not something you learn from. When I am working with it and its companion website I am in a frenzy trying to make sure I know where I am and that I am matching the right thing to the right thing. I am completing an exercise and learning to use the book and software more efficiently for this purpose, but I am not learning material since I am too distracted by the book and its website. This is to say that the textbook package is designed to enable students to pass courses, but not to teach them Spanish. It is only useful insofar as it helps one to fill out its rote worksheets. To do that it gives translations and has you fill in a blank, but it does not immerse you in the language.
Professor Zero: Can I quote you anonymously on that?
PZ later repeated the above to a TA she is friendly with.
TA: Yes, that is the problem with the book we are using in my field as well. But it is not only a problem with the book, it is also a problem with the structure of the courses.
Friend of the TA: Well, the problem of courses structured to get students through requirements but not to teach them anything is university wide.