"Oh where, oh where
Can my baby be?
The Lord took her
Away from me"
I can't bear to read anything these days. Correction. I can't bear to read any economics these days. I don't quite understand it. I can't bring myself to properly write; all I have been doing is gritting teeth, grinding my molars away, writing up a "literature review". Reading turgid, stultifying prose and trying to breathe, no, blow some life into it. Giving it my "spin", my "voice". Which, heaven knows, isn't professional at all.
Well, at the very least, I console myself, you get the relevant literature out of the way. It has to be read. May as well do it when motivation is dragging, that too at a time when it shouldn't be. Should be. Shouldn't be. Should-a could-a would-a. Allocation of scarce resource, Ricardo be proud.
It is really worrying, this dearth of properly constructed sentences. Introductions that are cut-copy-paste. Predictable. Nothing new to see here, move on. Ideas that are minimal at best. What are we doing? Creating this monster called academia, for what? To pull this dataset one way, then another. To make this assumption, that assumption, this equilibrium that solution. Drowning in our mediocrity, we gasp for the few tufts of air that seem to come once every twenty years so.
And then you have the friends, colleagues is the grown up word. Who laugh when you say research must reflect life. Or, when you complain about the dryness of academic writing. They make my head spin, my falafel sandwich taste of dust. Why are you even here? I wish to complain. Go sell some toothpaste. Or something. Don't spoil my world, I got enough cynicism for two here.
To recover from all this, I read Barzel, Coase, McCloskey. All within the space of an hour. Restore my faith in the ability of humans to think and reason. I see faculty walking around, I share a joke about the economic view of corruption, the old man laughs. Sweet relief. Here it is, finally, the reason why I get into this mess in the first place.
“The lighthouse is simply plucked out of the air to serve as an illustration. The
purpose of the lighthouse example is to provide,” quoting now from Gilbert and Sullivan’s
operetta, The Mikado, “‘corroborative detail, intended to give artistic verisimilitude to an
otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative’” (Coase, 1974, p. 375).
Can my baby be?
The Lord took her
Away from me"
I can't bear to read anything these days. Correction. I can't bear to read any economics these days. I don't quite understand it. I can't bring myself to properly write; all I have been doing is gritting teeth, grinding my molars away, writing up a "literature review". Reading turgid, stultifying prose and trying to breathe, no, blow some life into it. Giving it my "spin", my "voice". Which, heaven knows, isn't professional at all.
Well, at the very least, I console myself, you get the relevant literature out of the way. It has to be read. May as well do it when motivation is dragging, that too at a time when it shouldn't be. Should be. Shouldn't be. Should-a could-a would-a. Allocation of scarce resource, Ricardo be proud.
It is really worrying, this dearth of properly constructed sentences. Introductions that are cut-copy-paste. Predictable. Nothing new to see here, move on. Ideas that are minimal at best. What are we doing? Creating this monster called academia, for what? To pull this dataset one way, then another. To make this assumption, that assumption, this equilibrium that solution. Drowning in our mediocrity, we gasp for the few tufts of air that seem to come once every twenty years so.
And then you have the friends, colleagues is the grown up word. Who laugh when you say research must reflect life. Or, when you complain about the dryness of academic writing. They make my head spin, my falafel sandwich taste of dust. Why are you even here? I wish to complain. Go sell some toothpaste. Or something. Don't spoil my world, I got enough cynicism for two here.
To recover from all this, I read Barzel, Coase, McCloskey. All within the space of an hour. Restore my faith in the ability of humans to think and reason. I see faculty walking around, I share a joke about the economic view of corruption, the old man laughs. Sweet relief. Here it is, finally, the reason why I get into this mess in the first place.
“The lighthouse is simply plucked out of the air to serve as an illustration. The
purpose of the lighthouse example is to provide,” quoting now from Gilbert and Sullivan’s
operetta, The Mikado, “‘corroborative detail, intended to give artistic verisimilitude to an
otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative’” (Coase, 1974, p. 375).
~
I've been having debates about my work, mild little spars. Everything always comes down to the same thing - what do you believe is right? Belief; right-ness. How is anyone supposed to answer these questions? Here's my model, there's my regression. Don't believe it? Be my guest, I think, walk away. I can't argue with a belief. But I press on, no see, if what you say is true, then so-and-so must happen, but actually this-and-that does, so...
~
Had a happy conversation last night, she was laughing at nearly all my rubbish jokes. What a contrast to the nightmare I encountered - ha yes they've started what with all this 'where-is-my-life-going' conundrum that finishing a doctorate degree entails - a beggar woman we refuse to pay, who follows us, then starts to run behind us, I turn to her to face her, there's nothing but emptiness where her face should be, only a strangely sonorous chant of the Spanish word puta (go Google it). Ugh, I had to wake up after that. Maybe it was the recycled furniture in the room that brought it on; perhaps feelings cling to wood.
"And on my deathbed I will pray to the gods and thee angels,
Like a pagan to anyone who will take me to heaven;
To a place I recall, I was there so long ago."
Like a pagan to anyone who will take me to heaven;
To a place I recall, I was there so long ago."
1 comment:
i like that last bit. its sweetly painful. and I think its true... "feelings cling to wood"
Post a Comment