Her paper set this year's benchmark for confused student prose. A hallucinogenic lit-crit puree of Finnegans Wake and Bridezillas, for long stretches it was undecipherable....
I tried to imagine the circumstances that would result in her submitting an assignment of such desperately poor quality. The thing read like the free association of a disordered mind. I pictured her writing it in a bar, or while driving to class or skydiving. Maybe she composed it as one long text message to herself. By any rational standards, this was failing work.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Deep In The Basement of the Ivory Tower
A friend sent this book to me a few days ago, and when I don't find myself crying along with the author, I find myself laughing so hard it hurts. Professor X has some very witty writing: