Hermits Rock

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i really should be reading sab (an 1838-41 sentimental, abolitionist, feminist cuban novel, for my undergraduate class) or ariel (an essay published 1900 which defined the way latin america thought of itself visavis the u.s. throughout the 20th century…the author but all that would be boring and might actually help to get me tenure…and who wants that? constructs an allegory from ariel and caliban, presenting latin america as spiritual and cultured, though poor, and the u.s. (whose presence is implied as only the big, barbarous, utilitarian, capitalist land to the north that has nefarious designs on the youth of latin america) as worldly, for my m.a. class) or working on my book proposal for an acquisitions editor from a u.p. with whom i will meet this tuesday, or finishing up an article or two (one which greg has read more times than he or i would care to admit).

instead…i bore you with my first attempt at fancy pull-quotes…

instead…i’m like my colleague who when i said i saw a great frontline the other night told me blessed are the eyes that have the time to watch frontline! and then proceeded to tell me how busy…(on the advice of my frontal -tenure-seeking-lobe any and all catty comments about persons with whom i may or may not work have been redacted…plus, far be it from me to malign spinning in any shape, form, or fashion it takes…whether this be weaving, pens, excercise, or politics



You saw Frontline? Well I saw Dateline, and it was all about trapping D.C. pedophiles in a house of cameras. They nabbed an illegal immigrant, an army translator, even a rabbi!

Which, come to think of it, is like a really bad joke: a Mexican, a soldier, and a rabbi walked into a bar. The Mexican ordered tequila, the soldier ordered vodka, and the rabbi ordered a virgin Marguerite.

Seriously, it was a disturbing show. So, too, was Stone Phillips disturbing because his presence always seems to add an air of farce to everything.

do you think it’s his hair, his heighth, his unnaturally white teeth, his affected bass voice? well, they all add up i guess.

this too is disturbing , though not as disturbing…i didn’t want to watch that dateline, so i didn’t

no, the red arrow is neither an arrow nor a space pod…

what—in a disguised paraphrased way—did you say to the too-busy-to-pee colleague?

i just smiled and let his tenured-spin-spun-glutes-overloaded-lactic-acid flex their way down to his office

i knew that peeing contests were inescapable in academia…but i thought that the i’m busier than you, none is busier than me was something that we left behind upon getting hooded.

i thought it was truth universally accepted that all persons in possession of a tenure track job (regardless of whether they teach at liberal arts or research institutions or bottom of the barrell research institutions) (and even those that are adjuncting for that matter or visiting instructing, or part-timing) are in want of time

although some older faculty people seem to have time…the ones who teach the same notes they’ve taught for 8 or 30 years and who seem to have little interest in keeping up with what is going on in their supposed field of expertise. i’m not that they’re dumb or stagnant necessarily but that there is a class of profs who are happy with what they’ve accomplished and are ok with not pushing themselves to be close to cutting-edge. gotta run. :)

so the meeting with the editor was had…the comments are…

if i write with the same kind of passion with which i talk about my project, they are interested.

granted, i told her it would be 2 years before i have a rough draft of a manuscript to show her.

but, she seemed interested in religion, poetry, and politics—or at least feigned it nicely…or at least my burning ring of fire inflamed her passion

or at least she told me what i wanted to hear…regardless its all good

awesome. Now write that puppy.