I’m applying to graduate school, and while I was writing my admissions essay, I realized I was ready to get back in to the academic saddle, as it were. See, while I was writing the essay, it became more and more loquacious and verbose, and I started using words like “loquacious” and “verbose”. It finally culminated* in the paragraph that I’m presenting below. I’m not proud of it, but for some reason instructors eat this shit up:
I was recently shocked to learn that our Secretary of Defense, Donald Rumsfeld, does not use email, and this caused me to consider our country’s current situation concerning age and technology. As baby-boomers gradually grow older and leave the workforce, I imagine they will be replaced by younger counterparts. Traditionally, these younger counterparts have been more familiar with information technology as they have been raised with this technology since before their first steps. As such, we may see an increased reliance on the distribution of information through technologically advanced means. If something is not done to ensure that as a large generation of Americans age they are also given the skills to stay informed with younger generations, we may end up with a communicative divide between generations.
I say in five sentences what I could have easily said in one, minus the Rumsfeld reference. Why do teachers dig on this crap? And why does it give me such perverse pleasure when I manage to spin a thought like, “I like beer” into a sentence like, “Through a careful inspection of sociocultural mores, paying special attention and regard to the frequently complicated and rarely-understood nature of the American-male experiencing a quarter-life crisis, it can be carefully and clearly observed that the practice, or ritual, as some might say, of imbibing alcoholic beverages with peers, has become the steps of Socratic thought for the 21st century, and even though one of the more benevolent side-effects of alcohol is loss of reason, dozens of ideas, schemes, and inventions are drunkenly happened upon in the period of a typical evening, assuming, of course, that this subject is financially stable enough to afford such luxuries as intoxication, and has the wherewithal aforethought to plan a safe way back to his home.”
See!? What the hell is that!? It doesn’t even mean anything! “Wherewithal aforethought”? Who the fuck says that?
I guess, though, it’s not technically my fault. I got hooked on the junk during my first semester of undergrad in an American Studies course. We were coming to the end of the semester, and damned if I could tell you a single thing about what we had been studying for the past 3 months. I hadn’t read any of the texts, and I was pretty sure that the instructor knew it. Lucky for me, there was no exam, and only a final paper. My paper? A 5-page bullshit fest on how Seinfeld was a post-modern art-form while simultaneously existing within a pre-modern and modern context. You can smell the bullshit already, can’t you?
I went on for page after page using words like erudite, fastidiousness, enclave, and salubrious. I made vague and wide-reaching allusions to Irish immigration in the 18th century, Central Pacific’s Chinese laborers in the 1860s, and more than one allusion to the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Throw in a meandering screed against most TV families between the years of 1950 and 1990, and top that off with “references” to Seinfeld in the form of quotes like, “master of my domain” and “man-hands” you’ve essentially got my paper.
My hands trembled as she handed the paper back to me on the last day of class. I flipped to the last page and saw, in terrifying red ink, an “A”… with a minus after it. Below my grade she had written a note:
“ACW, I really enjoyed reading your paper. You clearly have a strong understanding of the concepts taught in class, and I appreciate your courage to delve into a subject on which we did not study- the modern sitcom. However,” and this is where I expect she’s going to call me a fraud and tell me my real grade is an “F”, “I would have liked to see more from you about the topic. It seems like you rushed yourself. Keep up the great work.”
And after that I was ruined. I peddled my bullshit for another 4 years, and by the time I was done, I could write for pages and pages and never say anything. I’m sure you’ve noticed.
*See, I did it again! “Culminated”? Wtf?
nerd.
Based on my grad school experience - you are quite ready. Prepare to say nothing at all in 5000 words or more! Hooray for needing degrees to prove your abilities! Screw that ‘on the job performance’ stuff!
ACW, that’s awesome. I did the same thing. I learned nothing, and peddled my bullshit (in multiple languages, even!) to receive a BA en français.
Peddling bullshit is pretty much what college is about…then you get to the real world and realize you learned nothing and are ill-prepared for the work force and unable to get a real job. Thus reminding me that my life is shit.
I’m also applying to grad school. Why do we put ourselves through this stuff? I don’t want to go back to college! Now I’ll be one of those out-of-place adults who jams her nose up the teacher’s ass to get a better grade. I hated those people in college.
Oh, and by the way…I think peddling bullshit is not only what college is about, but also what blogging is about. Most of us are proving that one post at a time.
Culmination!
I don’t mind the superfluous chatter personally, however…if you stray too far from the poop, testes and necrophilia I shall become perturbed, nay offended! I can dig saying nothing…I’d prefer it was nothing with a lot of naughty words and inuendo though.
as someone who wrote a thesis on fictional dialogue in pulp novels, I feel your bs-peddling pain. keep up the important work - academe depends on you!
This post summarizes how I got through all of my non-engineering classes without studying.
Wendykat- Alas, I can’t deny it.
Bryan- For now, I’m actually looking forward to it. I’m sure my sould will be crushed later on.
Poppy- Glad to hear it. We’re all frauds, and you even in more than one language.
Rusty- Yeah, and yet somehow people still manage to fail out of college. I never understood that.
Patti- Don’t worry, I’ve got something in the works that I think you’ll like.
Lorider- I’ll do my best to keep the Ivory Tower from toppling.
tfg- Ah, yes, engineering. I believe those classes required facts, data, and reproduceable results. I have no time for what I can’t fudge.
i got a masters in ENGLISH and i still wrote nothing of substance.
you’ll be fine, grasshopper.
I actually feel smarter after reading this post. Thank you.
Acadademically speaking, if you can successfully bullshit with numbers, you’ve arrived.
Apply to law school.
I actually had a class geared to teach the art of bullshitting one’s way thru college. My advanced placement English (general ed. requirement that I tested into advanced placement for) had as one of two final papers the topic of discussing the significance of that annoying-assed little cartoon frog the prof drew on papers and on the chalkboard. The second paper was a free-for-all on whatever we wanted (didn’t have to have the subject cleared with the prof either).
Without attending class except for tests and doing those two papers, I wound up with an A- for the class.
The second paper was on Sufism and Fourth Way practices as an alternative to religions with strict dietary laws. I used exactly ONE reference that didn’t exist in my roommate’s boyfriend’s hippie-fed personal libraray.
Kendra- Hey, look over there! Yeah, I just stole the pebble, beotch.
Diamond Lil- I do what I can.
tfg- Not only can I NOT bullshit with numbers, but when I try to I come out looking like a retard.
Bliss- As much as it seems I’d like to be in league with the Devil, I’d prefer to keep my soul uncrushed. ;)
Serra- Nice.
I’ve got the same problem.
This is exactly the kind of shit I write every day, only I use words like “summative” and “proactive” and “overarching” and “formative” and “liaison.”
I once wrote a paper arguing that Milton’s Jesus was a feminine extension of God in Paradise Regain’d. Or maybe it was Paradise Lost. Who the fuck knows anymore. Anyway, it went on and on and on but I earned an A in that class and that paper plus a later thesis on blaxploitation movies (!!!!)actually landed me my current job where I continue to ramble pedantically on the page. It’s a vicious cycle.
tfg- I weep for the future.
Jess- Yeah, that sounds exactly like my college career.
just for shits & giggles….can you translate “Not tonite dear I have a headache” into something that would leave the listener slack-jawed and feeling as if they’d just been complimented?
Or do you only use your powers for good?
Hah! Leave it to the AMST department to begin your bullshittin career!
It’s never ceased to amuse me how absolutely retarded our society is.
One day, in English class, whilst studying some bullshit on poetry analysis, I had an epiphany. I realized that the most respected critical authors and politicians are the ones who are the most arrogant, self-righteous asses who knows how to use a thesaurus. Because seriously, the words they use? I mean, it was just roll-your-eyes, give-me-a-break type bullshit.
God, I hate English.
I ran this post through an automated grammar review, and although it dinged you for 3 run on sentences, a 5% usage of passive voice, and a heavier than normal reliance on the use of contractions, you come in at an overall 10.3 grade level on the Flesch-Kinkaid scale with a 56.2 score (out of 100) in “readability”.
I’d say you’re definitely ready for grad school sir.