The academic job market is brutally crushing my spirits, which is oddly life affirming insofar as I didn’t realize I still had spirits left to crush.
21.11.2025 21:21
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The academic job market is brutally crushing my spirits, which is oddly life affirming insofar as I didn’t realize I still had spirits left to crush.
Humbly requesting of the universe that there be fewer bugs outside in October or, failing that, that they at least stop flying directly into my mouth and eyes.
Doing fantasy football for the very first time and it is either saving my mental health or destroying it, I can’t really tell.
Have reached the point of dissertating where I’m defying the laws of physics by steadily writing a thousand words a day on this chapter but somehow getting farther and farther away from actually being DONE with it.
NYT headline on Trump and Iran that describes how Trump’s “posture has gyrated” on the Israel-Iran conflict.
I’m not really a “Let’s dunk on bad NYT headlines” person, but “his position has gyrated” is both a viscerally disgusting phrase and far less precise or descriptive than the existing, commonplace term for when a politician cravenly changes their stance on something, which is “flip-flopped.”
My move at academic conferences is to dress for the job I want, which is mid-career professor at a well-endowed but non-prestigious liberal arts college, and anyway this is my way of justifying dressing like a slob and reading off a crumpled print-out of my paper.
Currently writing a diss chapter on Black artistic identity & labor focused largely on Everett’s “Erasure,” which I finished rereading yesterday almost simultaneous w. the“James” Pulitzer win, and man oh man is the current brouhaha making its way into that chapter.
www.nytimes.com/2025/05/06/b...
Screenshot of headline from Crypto News website reading “Dogecoin price remains stuck as whale accumulation continues”
I Googled “dogecoin” as a joke and this headline is so insane just on a syntactic level that I need to go lie down.
God bless Ottawa for staying alive in the Stanley Cup playoffs—they’re the only Senators right now who aren’t a total disappointment.
The cover of the novel “Strong Motion” by Jonathan Franzen
Mildly obsessed with the first edition cover of Franzen’s second novel, which makes it look like some lurid murder book by Dean Koontz or something.
Proud to stand with my fellow grad workers at Penn State for the rights of ALL of us to unionize: www.centredaily.com/opinion/opn-...
Love to live in a country where I have to write my insurance company a detailed fucking novel about why I had the audacity to seek medical care before they’ll even consider paying for it.
Setting aside everything else for a sec, there is nothing dorkier than wanting to be ruled by a king. Like shut the fuck up, you raging dweeb.
There are like fifteen separate insane things happening in this paragraph and I am obsessed with it.
I’ve voted for a lot of feckless Democrats in my day, but John Fetterman has proven to be the most loathsome and regrettable, and it’s not even close.
Been reading a lot of Vonnegut lately and I know it’s easy to mock him as the patron saint of annoying teenage boys but he is also one of the clearest anti-fascist voices of post-45 American lit and if every annoying teenage boy who reads him learns to hate fascists then I think that’s a good thing.
No one ask anyone at the March for Life today how they feel about Biden commuting sentences for death row inmates. Would hate to expose the hypocrisy underpinning their entire worldview.
Saw a man boarding a flight with nothing but a cup of coffee and a plastic-wrapped scale model of Doc Brown’s DeLorean, which he carried across his shoulders like a milkmaid’s yoke. I will be thinking about him for the rest of the day.
Pronouncing “sanguine” like “linguine” and calmly replying “Mamma mia” whenever someone gives me bad news.
I turn 33 tomorrow and have in the past few days developed the angriest, most embarrassing zit on my chin. Makes me feel like a teenager again!
Spending Thanksgiving eve once more thinking about this JCO tweet.
Nothing less dignified than standing at the Sam’s Club meat counter with ten other people waiting for them to put the fresh rotisserie chickens out, and yet here I stand.
Googled “How long should an English literature dissertation be?” because my department doesn’t have very clear guidelines (also b/c I am dumb) and this bit from Columbia’s website is calling me out directly, reading me for filth, etc.
My dissertation is effectively “Nobody Talks About Form Anymore,” with a mild touch of contempt for “Legit Trying to Save the World Over Here.” 🙃
A chocolate lab staring wistfully out the window
The boy yearns
Some days you feel like a shiny new penny and other days you feel like a
Repeatedly writing the sentence “I will expand on this idea in a later chapter of the dissertation” with absolutely no intention of expanding on that idea in a later chapter of the dissertation.
Some days I feel like the only competent driver on the road and other days I sit in my driveway for five minutes trying to remember which lever is the wipers and which is the blinker.
One thing I feel very strongly about myself is that I would have been an excellent panelist on ‘70s-era Match Game. Like, Richard Dawson-level good. Weird flex, I know, but there you have it.
Entering my Joan Didion era (wearing sunglasses and spending recklessly)