#write my dissertation with cheap

[xi-vz]

Shen Yuan stared up at the man, disbelief clear on his face.

The man before him huffed a laugh, brown eyes becoming crescent shaped with amusement. He was a little taller than Shen Yuan, a little broader, with a sleeve tattoo covering his right arm to his wrist. His dark brown hair was softly curled, more wavy, and a little shaggy, falling to his shoulders. His face reminding Shen Yuan of Binghe. Not a lot, but just enough if he were to tilt his head and squint.

“You’re just a kid.” When the man finally spoke his voice was as smooth as velvet. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen.” Shen Yuan automatically responded as he gawked.

The man had round wire glasses, a piercing on the left side of his lower lip, both ears were pierced, and he had cheekbones that belonged on a magazine cover. He was a little older than Shen Yuan expected. Somewhere in his late-twenties compared to Shen Yuans late teens.

“Cucumber-Bro, come on, I’m not that different.” Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky offered a smile, showing off dimples underneath a days worth of scruff.

“How old are you?” Shen Yuan demanded, still blocking the doorway into the dorm.

“Thirty.”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Shen Yuan asked aloud.

Seriously, this was the caffeine addicted crack-writer?!

When Shen Yuan had woken up back in his dorm room instead of in bed with his husband in the bamboo house, he immediately contacted Airplane—it was a gamble, but it paid off. The relief Shen Yuan felt when Airplane responded was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He gave the other man his phone number and address, then waited an excruciating five days until the two could meet. (Because Shen Yuan lived in Beijing, but Airplane apparently lived in Chengdu, and last minute flights weren’t cheap.)

Shen Yuan knew that his friend would look different. Hell, Shen Yuan looked different! A little shorter, a little rounder, way younger. With pitch black eyes, short inky black hair, and an ear piercing. He was pretty rather than handsome, softer than Shen Qingqiu.

And it wasn’t that Shang Qinghua wasn’t handsome—he was! Like everyone else in PIDW. But Airplane?

“Can I come in?” Airplane asked while shoving his hands into his back pockets. He wasn’t dressed fashionably. His beat up backpack was slung carelessly over a shoulder, jeans were ripped due to wear and tear, his faded band shirt was due to too many washes, his sneakers were scuffed. And yet…

Shen Yuan dressed in the latest fashion. He tried his best to look good, he had standards for himself! He looked like a C-Pop star.

Airplane wasn’t even trying to be hot. (WHY WAS HE SO HOT?!)

It shook something inside of Shen Yuan. All of his past theories of Airplane being a troll flew out the window.

“Well?” Airplane looked like he wasn’t above shoving past his friend to get in.

Shen Yuan allowed his friend inside, still shook.

“Shang Qinghua.”

“What?”

“My name, bro.”

“Wait…you used your actual name for the character closest to Mobei!? Fucking Mary-Sue!”

“Ah, there we go, there’s the Peerless Cucumber I know. Although it’s weird to hear such vitriol from a face so cute.”

Shen Yuan felt the blood rush to his face and wished he had a fan in his hands to use as a weapon when Airplane chuckled.

“Come on, let’s try to figure out how to get back home,” Shang Qinghua said as he moseyed to the desk in the room.

Shen Yuan sighed as he closed and locked the door.

BONUS:

SY: I thought you said you were a broke university student who wrote to make sure food was on the table.

SQH: Yeah, dude. I’m working on my dissertation. Writing pays the bills.

SY: YOU’RE GETTING YOUR DOCTORATES?????

SQH: Yeah, in Topology.

SY: YOU’RE GETTING YOUR DOCTORATES IN MATHS?????

[green-sky-smoke]

Reader asks Husk about his ideal date. (~1300 words)

"My ideal date, huh? The one where i win all your money in poker." He laughs, and smiles at you firmly, his eyes pierce at you warmly, like he was looking at nostalgic show, on old, thick tv screen, in worst quality possible. "Bring me cards, hun, i shall do a little," he waves palms happily, "magic! Watch future, how good your chances are." He laughs purringly. Then his smile and cheerful look dissolves. He's never like this for long. "But if you don't plan it... Honestly, i'm not really used to dates. I'm not interested in flowers and fancy dinners, i saw enough of them. I am a man of simple pleasures. I have booze here, why don't just stay where we are?" he tilts his head a little, with catlike grace and elegance, expecting you to nod. And then you both hear something heavy, loudly falling on the floor, and a lot of swears and arguing. His ears press on his head from the sudden noise.

"Well. That's why. We may go somewhere." He sights, annoyed. Husk is frowning, looking in almost empty bottle, like lines of light and reflections on emerald glass will say something his drunk brain stubbornly refuses. He tries very hard to think it out, but he got solid brain fog.

"How about... Well..." he is really lost in his own thoughts. You can almost see how his neurons try to reach one another, but fail miserably, and pain gently swipes them away. "How about... About..."

No. Date isn't a game, it's when you entertained enough being with someone. Not a game. You did games everyday, Husk, what make date unique if it just another playful robbery? Date is not another gambling game, loss of big money and property. Especially not of someone who you like. Maybe you can both play and share loss, or win, playing together and not against each other... But against anyone else? Hm. Would be nice to offer it later, if he won't forget.

He hasn't had any sugarcoated romantic fantasies in a long time, and his brain rejected him creating some now, when he got someone interesting enough. The most interesting thing was just looking at your confused, annoyed face, and just any negative emotion. He felt better sometimes, seeing unhappy faces, when he is himself aren't happy at all about where it all ended for him. Husk hunched over the table, puzzled. Looks like he completely zoned out.

Most of all, he enjoys spending time together, calmly, not in a fight. Table games where he can bluff and laugh at someone's bad strategies and skill, or hand motorics. Magic tricks and spectacular shows. Gently massages and some cuddling. Sleeping and resting, doing nothing. He doesn't like very pricy places, or sports. He isn't most complex person, so it's quite a mystery for him why you would have interest in alcoholic with ludomania who likes to mock you lovingly, or insult. It's kinda easy when he presented with people insecurities every day, every year, when they can't shut up about it, and any anecdotes happening. He could write dissertation about it.

"Cheap, and funny." He chuckled, as your face becomes a little disappointed. "What? Not the answer you wanted?" He smiled, a bit smug. He enjoys your confusion, and how you try to think of questions to to clarify exactly what he wants, when you know that he won't reply long, he mostly gives you very vague answers that tells nothing at most.

"Let me tell you a thing, boo... Planning perfect dates is the most useless thing to do. Life is always unpredictable, chaotic, troubled and hard in hell. Situations always change, your mood, your tastes, you never the same person as day, or hour ago. You never know. If you hunt perfection, perfect place, perfect person, perfect reaction, day and time, you will end up miserable. And... You can try small things and be happy with surprises from this chaotic universe we live in, being constantly amazed how bad you are at fortune-telling!" He spreads his arms with enthusiasm, and then puts them down, waving one. He takes an indifferent sip of alcohol. "Or whatever. I don't care." He for a moment forgets what he wanted to add. Seems like he forgets that you're here too, too entertained with looking at same bottles, as if he was in an elite art gallery. His head migraine felt as if brain is expanding like the universe, right in his skull, and it is about to crack, while he won't be able to say anything intelligible or catch a coherent thought. He needs time to frown. You just look at him, wanting to stroke him. He looks so soft and fluffy, but you can't tell a moment you can do it.

"There isn't such a thing i would call a 'perfect date'. But there is 'it wasn't so bad as i expected'." he says before another long pause. He is clearly thinking hard, trying to scratch words off the walls of the skull, that hit him with an electric shock for any touch. His body was sometimes a real prison, making him worse person, who can really, really never leave for long.

"There may be all things i can enjoy to a point of addiction, but i would just act as grumpy ass until you take me there, waving booze, fists, threats, and i would know how enjoyable this is only after." He smiles and cackles, a bit annoyed and a bit self-ironic. He knows his brain and mood tricks pretty well, but believes he don't really need or can change a thing. He hates it, but he wouldn't wish to be anyone else. "It all seem too boring, overrated, overpriced and annoying to me when i think about it. I can find all reasons to not go anywhere and not move at all. Im in the point of life where it's really hard to find joy and eagerly seek things. You know?" He shrugs. "Go on, i don't mind, if you can bear with me constantly rejecting anything im not used to, and being grumpy old growler. It may at some point end as perfect date i would be sad to forget." He looks at you, like he doesn't really believe it, but willing to let you try. It doesn't matter to him, he will suffer each way in same amount, you wouldn't make it much worse than Alastor. " ...Or not. Who the hell knows. Maybe you will have patience to make some use of such boring, forever grudging and mean demon. Im not the best choice, and it will only make you pathetic to try make impossible work." You smile, finally out of confusion. He just invited you to annoy him, how sweet. You bend over to him and hold out your hand. He doesn't understand your gesture, so he just hand you some heavy bottle of some sweet, sparkling tonic for cocktails. You move the bottle to the table, and you put your hand on his. It suprised him, but he smiled at this micro-miscommunication, and places other hand over your. Old cats are playful too. And no cat will reject some good, pricy food and quiet place to see all things, not just hear behind the bar table. "Well, you are the strongest creative source of new things in my life for now." He smiles faintly. Maybe he was completely sarcastic. "So, take care of yourself. I can't appreciate you most times, but it would be loss for all hell. And i think you didn't drink in a while, so you need some liquid more than hold my hand, dumdum." He gets his hand out of your warm touch, and moves the bottle almost in your face. "Or shall I shake it for you?" He laughs. Husk believes you totally can use some foam of wrath in your face too.

[ragana62]

Sending 🔥🔥🔥

"Bad" fan content (art, fics, videos, rambles, etc.) is actually more important to fandom and a better indication of the health of a fandom than the professional grade internet darling stuff.

More below the break, because I got longwinded and don't want to wall of text people who don't want to read my takes.

First of all, purity culture is bullshit. Liking and engaging with only the most popular/top tier in terms of 'quality' (used here in the strictest technical sense, i.e. perfect adherence to grammatical rules and formatting guides for fics, a high degree of technical skill in drawing/painting/whatever your artistic medium, a borderline PhD dissertation level of lit analysis going into each and every headcanon) is the same as deciding you can't rewatch your favorite movie/reread your favorite book from middle school because you're an adult now and can only like mature things, is the same as deciding that you can't like certain ships because they aren't canon compliant. And it all comes down to this need we've all developed to curate our lives perfectly to present ourselves as the best and most perfect people to ever exist on the internet. Which is also bullshit.

Fandom is and always was a deeply nerdy, cringe space at its very best. It was where you could subtly ask people at a con if they watch Star Trek for 'the Premise' and once confirmed they were safe launch into your hottest Spirk takes, or where you can scroll past someone's New York Times Bestseller quality 400,000 word magnum opus on the complex inner life of a character with no spoken lines of dialogue in canon in the same mouse drag as a 400 word crack fic about the main character in a fandom centered on a horrific dystopia going to the beach. So not only does the closet cosplayer who looks more like your local emo 7-11 clerk than the character they're tagged as belong here just as much as the professional costumer who hand wove the cloth for their undershirt out of flax they grew themselves in their back garden, but I think they're actually more important to a healthy fandom. First, a brief defense of cringe:

We all suck at some point. Maybe you (general) didn't start posting anything until you could do it perfectly, but that doesn't mean you emerged from the womb flawlessly gifted at writing complex worldbuilding and painting masterpieces. That just means you didn't show anyone until you could, and that's kind of sad. Writing/making art/doing textual analysis/making gifs or song edits/costuming/any of it, all of it takes practice to be any good at it, and while none of it is 100% guaranteed to be a good time had by all involved, if you weren't having some fun along the way why bother? You shouldn't have to feel like you need to wait to be perfect to be excited and show people what you're doing just because curation culture says it's only worthy if it's perfect.

We are all inherently cringe. You didn't stop being cringe when you pulled out the cheap neon clip in hair extensions from Claire's and start saying that your favorite cartoon was for babies, you just became a different sort of cringe. That's fine, it's a right of passage, we all go through that phase, but part of growing as a person is learning that it's okay to like what you like, to embrace all the parts of you and your passions, whether it's the big mature official adult interests that people can understand and are socially accepted like prestige TV and whatever self-help book is telling you all the ways you should feel miserable today or the silly youtube videos that made you laugh in middle school or the cheesiest pop songs imaginable. It isn't morally superior to only acknowledge your love for the former, or an essential part of growing up.

Fandom has also always been middle aged suburban moms rambling about the two characters they want to shove into a closet and make kiss, just as much as it has always been the middle schoolers doing the exact same thing, just as much as it has always been people spending hours researching every detail of the latest episode to perfectly justify why Character X is actually a closet fan of doritos. There is nothing wrong with wanting to do a massive formal analysis on the magic systems present in the world of whatever and how they have to work in relation to real world physics, or explore serious themes in a work of fiction, or whatever else either. One set of those things isn't any inherently better than the other, and we all do both when we are being honest with ourselves, even if we don't share one (and more often than not it's the former). Learning fictional languages is an inherently dorky thing to do, no matter how many awards the show or book it's from wins. Dressing up as your favorite imaginary friend is an inherently dorky thing to do, no matter how perfect the costume is. Writing about a made up person going on adventures is an inherently dorky thing to do, whether it's grimdark serious or the crackiest AU imaginable. Spending hours getting the shading just right on the book not the show version of your favorite character is inherently dorky, even if you're the Michaelangelo of old man Yaoi (as though Michaelangelo himself wouldn't rise from the grave to fight you on that). Embrace it.

Anyway, why does this matter? Because purity culture and curation culture are actually what's killing fandom. Like I ramble about the death of community in fandom, the death of comment culture, the loss of old fandom rules/etiquette, etc., fandoms dying too quickly, all the time, but those are symptoms. The bigger problem is, we've all convinced ourselves that we have to be perfect on the internet.

A breakdown:

Fandoms die too quickly. - Because we don't nurture them. Sure, dwindling attention spans do contribute, but we don't give fandoms (or shows, but that's a different rant) time to get good anymore. If we are all refusing point blank to interact with any fanworks that aren't complete works, at the highest quality, that are already popular/have certain ratios of hits to kudos to comments, or aren't at a certain word count, then we're killing it before it starts. Like it or not, by the highest standards we hold this stuff to, 90% of just about everything is a bit shit. It's going to be bad grammar and unfinished wips and 'cringe' AUs and self-insert whathaveyou. That's fandom baby. And if that 90% has no interaction, you can bet those wips will never be finished and those fics with good ideas and bad formatting will never bother to edit it or find a beta and you'll never know that the author writing that 'cringe' was sitting on a draft of your perfect fic that scratches every itch your brain has ever had for your OTP. Because we can sit here all we like and say we write/draw/create for ourselves, but we all know we publish it because we want to exist in interaction with others.

Nobody comments/interacts anymore. - Yeah, because we're all a little bit afraid of someone seeing our AO3 username popping up in the comments/kudos and being found out for enjoying that deeply self-indulgent smut fic or the random 'murder hobo left the child death arena to get froyo' fluff stick figure comic or whatever else we're so afraid of somehow being called out for liking. We've all had it drilled into us that every moment of our existence on the internet has to be curated perfectly to match our official image, so if we want to be serious and mature and proper we can't be seen enjoying the same 'cringe' as everyone else. But if we all feel it, it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy where nobody interacts with any of it, and it all just goes away because as much as we liked it, the creators never found out and stopped sharing with the class.

Fandom etiquette is dead. - Purity culture and curation culture strike again. In the olden times, we had a little policy called 'Don't Yuck My Yum' (it does have other names, this is just the one I use, though 'Don't Like, Don't Read' is the more fic specific one). That isn't to say there was never negativity and flame wars and the like, because oh boy was there, but the point stands. Demanding updates like clockwork because you want more? Anon hate because an author writes a ship you don't like/engages with clearly tagged subject matter that isn't for you/doesn't write a character how you see them? They come from the same place. We need everything we interact with to match our perfectly curated internet persona, and part of that is being seen defending that perfectly curated internet persona's rules. So none of your mutuals can possibly disagree on your headcanons, and nobody can ship anyone else with the members of your officially stated OTP, and nobody can ever find out that you liked that one Dead Dove fic when all your bookmarks are the fluffiest of fluff, and inversely, your favorite author must be a bad person if they wrote a dark fic, or isn't doing fandom right if they don't have a firm update schedule or only publish once the work is fully complete, etc. etc. That's not how any of that actually works in the real world. Why would it be how it works in fandom?

Death of community in fandom. - No shit. Given everything above, why would you bother building that community? Why would you become a regular commenter on a wip you like if it's probably just going to be abandoned anyway and your inbox will be flooded with people telling you that one time at 5:02 PM Pacific Standard Time on August 27th, a fan artist who did the cover for the fic you just commented on once said that they don't like relish on hot dogs and are therefore evil incarnate? Why would you risk putting yourself out there with your craziest takes that have no support but are pure vibes if you're just going to get 'well actually'-ed out of your entire online presence because you had the audacity to say 'fuck it, this is just for fun, I don't care if it's a bit out of character or unsupported by canon'? Why would you bother publishing your art/videos/gifs/fics/whatever else until they were so perfect they couldn't possibly be critiqued at all? The answer is, you wouldn't. So, nobody talks to anybody, unless you've known them for years already before everything got so closed off and perfectionistic, nobody builds those communities, fandom disappears off to little insular discord servers where the creators never find out anyone cares and only people with your exact same takes are let in, and it all slowly goes away because eventually people stop investing their time in putting themselves out there to receive none of the positive interaction and all of the negative.

In short: perfect is the enemy of good, and the best thing your creativity can be is 'in existence'. Make the 'bad' thing and share it, not because anyone else will necessarily love it right away but because it deserves to exist. Maybe one day it gets better. Maybe it never does. Either way, it exists. Inversely, show love to the 'bad' things, because fuck it we all enjoy these things anyway in our own ways so why be ashamed of it? Watch your 'childish' cartoon and rant about it on main, publish the crack AU 'Evil Dictator Spends 20 Minutes Wondering How You Milk an Almond on Their First Grocery Store Trip in 25 Years', draw the stick figure comic and the jerky animation for your fan music video set to the schlockiest pop song imaginable. The only reason we aren't all doing it, is because we're all stuck in these little shame bubbles that can only be popped if we start poking at them. And that's how you save fandom.

Because healthy fandoms, they have lots of 'cringe'. They have lots of 'bad' art and fics and gifs and videos, because they've been around long enough for people to start off bad and get better in a technical sense, or because they haven't lost that community spirit and willingness to admit they're inherently dorky that makes fandom great and have no shame in admitting they read the reader insert smut or the crack drabbles or the badly formatted and unedited fic that might not consistently be able to spell 'orange' correctly but damn it if the story isn't good. Sometimes both. Usually both. If we want to actually fix the issues we all rant about all the time in fandom, we need to start by embracing the fact that we are all doing fundamentally dorky, cringey, things by engaging with fandom at all and there is no inherent moral or personal superiority to be had in acting otherwise.

If we're all irredeemable dorks with questionable taste, then who gives a shit that you saw the author of that fandom darling masterpiece of high-grade wordsmithery's name pop up in the kudos or comment section of that smutfic or darkfic or crackfic or whatever else we're ashamed to admit we read this week? You're both there, you're both reading it, if anything, that's an endorsement that you'll probably enjoy what they're doing since you're both enjoying the same other stuff. If none of us are perfect, maybe we can finally get back to just letting ourselves have fun.

Send me 🔥

[ckret2]

“Opening it up was like a cryptography puzzle mixed with a dissertation research project, and each sentence was a fractal flower of information, a bud that bloomed into a dozen more buds that each bloomed into a dozen more. It was amazing. Enthralling. This was the kind of research Ford was made for. He was the most relaxed he'd been in weeks.”

One of my favorite excerpts from this chapter. Perhaps I’m reading too into it, but to me, this is a billford crumb. Why are you as a man describing another man(demon shape thing)’s writings like this. Enthralling. The most relaxed he’s been in weeks. It’s so over.

I think calling it a "billford crumb" is actually very apt—because this, in itself, can lead nowhere. Bill thinks it could lead somewhere (and his idea of "somewhere" is "befriending Ford just enough to help Bill survive/escape"), which is why he handed it over; but he's wrong. Ford loves the information, the challenge of it, just as Bill knew he would, but—

This was who Bill could be—gift-giver, wish-granter, teacher, guide, friend—and he chose not to be. Why?! When this was so easy for him—why did he have to be what he was instead?

This charitable act only made the true Bill look even worse by contrast.

—it truly did make Ford like Bill himself even less.

But, but... the juice is there. Bill can offer so many things Ford wants—knowledge knowledge knowledge, mysterious mysteries, boundless opportunities for research and exploration (and that's not even touching on the things Ford used to want in his youth—respect, fame, a breakthrough that will make his memory immortal). And, perhaps more importantly, he knows Ford well enough to know without asking that this is what he wants. And he was right. How many other people fully understand what Ford needs—and could any of them simply hand it to him the way Bill can?

But gifts won't make Ford soften toward Bill. Information is cheap to Bill, and now Ford can recognize just how shallow his "Muse's" friendship was beneath these pearls. He remembers exactly where Bill's gifts lead. Until Bill reckons for that treachery—AND until there's not a shadow of a doubt in Ford's mind that when Bill says "friend" he doesn't mean "useful tool"—Ford wouldn't be able to see him as anything but an enemy even if he wanted to.

... and yet it's still a lil gay innit.

[mammomlette]

I want to introduce Satan to so many things to do with books so bad. Someone get this man Goodreads. I adore stalking my friends Goodreads reviews and seeing how some of them just say stuff like “this book made me want to throw up glitter” and short stuff while other friends are writing whole dissertations on the fucking cruel Prince or something. Satan is 100% the latter, he is justifying his rating. Goodreads is his version of leaving a negative/positive help review.

Also, I want him to read the books I like SOOOOSOSO badly. I don’t care that I’m still reading books for kids like pjo and MMU, I want his thoughts and feelings on what I enjoy

Imagine just sitting in comfortable silence, both reading the same book and getting to plot twists at the same time (or, even better, one of you finishes ahead of the other one and you just have to stare at the other until they get to it so you can discuss)

IMAGINE BRINGING WORLD BOOK DAY TO RAD. (Is that even a widely celebrated thing?? Idek help) JUST CARTS UPON CARTS OR BOOKS IN A MAKESHIFT LIBRARY (who cares that rad already has a real one, this is the vibe we need) FOR DIRT CHEAP PRICES AND EVERYONE DRESSED UP AS A BOOK CHARACTER. MATCHING OUTFITS WITH SATAN AS CHARACTERS FROM YOUR FAV BOOK. AAA

In conclusion I want a book friend and Satan is that guy

[power-chords]

After the war, as a student first at Brooklyn College and then at Columbia, Hilberg was quickly drawn to the academic study of the fate he had escaped in Europe but that many of his relatives had not. "Briefly I weighed the possibility of writing a dissertation about an aspect of war crimes, and then I woke up," he explained in his autobiography. "It was the evidence that I wanted. My subject would be the destruction of the European Jews." He was soon spending long hours in a torpedo factory in Virginia that had been transformed into a repository for countless boxes of captured Nazi archives. Hilberg’s decision to study this material was not considered a professionally prudent one at the time, which may seem odd in the current era of Holocaust movies and proliferating Holocaust studies departments. But in the late 1940s and ’50s, the genocide of the Jews was a subject ignored in academic circles. History books of the era focused on the cult of Hitler and the Nazi terror but generally did not identify the slaughter of the Jews as a central part of the story of World War II. In the United States, the first college-level course dedicated to the subject of the Holocaust was taught in 1974–by Raul Hilberg. More than twenty years earlier, when Franz Neumann, Hilberg’s adviser at Columbia, learned of his dissertation topic, he quipped, "It’s your funeral."

Hilberg’s study opens with a bold statement: "Lest one be misled by the word ‘Jews’ in the title, let it be pointed out that this is not a book about the Jews. It is a book about the people who destroyed the Jews." Hilberg toiled for nearly a decade in the archives of the Nuremberg trials and other collections of recovered German documents. During his last lecture, which he delivered in Vermont just a few months before his death, he recalled the void that engulfed him at the outset of his research. "I was transported into a world for which I was totally unprepared," he explained in his dry, austere manner. "I would read a document, but I would not understand what it meant. The context had to be built record by record."

In Hilberg’s telling, the murder of the Jews was not a product simply of Hitler’s anti-Semitic rage (as Dawidowicz would later argue), nor was it preordained the moment the Nazi Party coalesced or even by the terror of Kristallnacht. "The destruction of the Jews was an administrative process, and the annihilation of Jewry required the implementation of systematic administrative measures in successive steps." Hilberg presented a staggering picture of the bureaucratic machinery of extermination, which developed slowly over time and inundated every sector of German society–not just the Einsatzgruppen and the SS but also the finance ministry, foreign office and railways; everyone knew what was happening, and everyone cooperated.

Hilberg defended his dissertation in 1955 and submitted it to prominent publishing houses. It was roundly rejected until 1961, when a young press in Chicago, Quadrangle Books, decided to publish the work, printing it in double columns on cheap paper. From there, the massive tome began quietly and slowly to win over admirers. In a glowing review in Commentary, the British historian Hugh Trevor-Roper wrote that Hilberg’s book was "not yet another chronicle of horrors. It is a careful, analytic, three-dimensional study of a social and political experience unique in history: an experience which no one could believe possible till it happened and whose real significance still bewilders us." Michael Marrus, the foremost historiographer of the Holocaust, says that it is now generally agreed that before Hilberg "there was not a subject. No panoramic, European-wide sense of what had happened. That’s what Hilberg provided."

[lunarriviera]

🌻

okay this is weird but here goes: from "book-eating pond":

•

The annual department party is, as predicted, painful. Lan Zhan hovers in one corner and tries not to make eye contact with any of the faculty, while Wei Ying clearly has a blast and seems to talk to every single person there, promptly getting into an energetic debate with Rachael about post-Marxism; Lan Zhan only overhears the phrase “be on the right side of the class war” which doesn’t completely make sense to him, since they’re talking about undergraduate textbooks.

Fortunately there are no white-gloved waiters (the department seems to have learned its lesson from last year) and, even more fortunately, this year, for some reason, there is wine. Just generic, unclassifiable boxes of pinot grigio and Syrah; but at least it’s neither white Zinfandel nor Merlot, so Lan Zhan helps himself liberally to the Syrah. He’s stealthy about it, manages to balance out his plastic glassfuls with just enough canapés to keep from getting completely shit-faced, just a little bit pleasantly numb. He’s always been a cheap drunk but a smart one, so after Walter has made his usual one-note speech about the successes of the department (which largely seem to be about having taken on even more undergraduate students without increasing the number of tenure lines; the adjunct pool is never mentioned) he hugs Rae goodbye and slips out, making his way across campus in the slanting light of dusk to the library, only a little unsteady on his feet.

Once inside his carrel, he opens the copy of the lit mag that Wei Ying gave him, and puts on the kettle. Wei Ying’s story is called “Coffin Town,” and it’s stark and bleak, a strange little Western set in a post-apocalyptic future, or the distant past maybe, somewhere in rural China. There are three swordsmen, who are clearly in love in some complicated configuration, though it’s never made explicit, and by the end of the story, everyone is dead except one of the men, who leaves to wander the earth alone, righting wrongs, carrying the ashes of his beloved soulmate with him.

The sentencing and diction are very plain, but the concept isn’t, Lan Zhan thinks, as he closes the issue without reading anything else in it. The work doesn’t remind him of McCarthy, which you’d expect; it’s not that ornate or mannered. Maybe Breece D’J Pancake or O’Connor, but without the brutal humor; maybe more Mavis Gallant, or even Alice Munro. It’s dark, but not self-consciously so. There’s an intelligence glimmering in it that Lan Zhan doesn’t often see in American literary short stories, which are usually just inordinately pleased with themselves for existing in the first place. The story is actually moving, he realizes: filled with heart in a way that’s dangerous, that gets called sentimental and amateurish in workshop. But there’s nothing mawkish or saccharine about the prose; it’s lean and tense and stripped-down, and the characters are alive, and the pacing is flawless, and it occurs to Lan Zhan that this would all be much easier if Wei Ying were a bad writer.

Because it’s too late. He already likes him. He likes him, in fact, a lot. He puts his face in his hands. This is an unexpected development, and an entirely unwelcome one. Lan Zhan still isn’t even sure if Wei Ying is straight, but the odds are that he must be. He’s extroverted and funny, and warm, and very, very smart, and now Lan Zhan knows he’s also a good writer; even though he didn’t mention anyone, wasn’t wearing a ring and never once said we, he’s surely already got a partner, since almost everyone does by the time they arrive at a PhD program. Everyone but Lan Zhan, who is quiet and strange and stays in his carrel all night and never finishes writing his dissertation. Who honestly hasn’t even opened the Google document since maybe April.

send me 🌹 and i’ll give you a sentence from one of my wips ♥

[scentedchildnacho]

Astrobiology bipolar as not a creation myth of the known planets in our sun solar system is a very sad oppressed alcoholism though and i have had to learn some of those alcoholic bartenders are very low functioning mental disabilities maybe their not psychopaths people who could get it together for business and media and saw this low functioning someone and just took their bartending job ....they maybe did continue to use people very distressed and unrecovered mental

Schizophrenia the wall and claim unnecessary separation is inverse....that person really didnt like the regulation about intellectualizing the emotional

Pattern cutting.....I am going to try something bipolar for quilting so the German alcohol unions don't come to steal me away

Alexander McQueen was called a mysoginist and he funds shows so new trades can start

Thats polysemics difference...no new jails...if China they understand new as all police research I find this before the wall diagnostics...or tejanos so very old vintage negative ideas

I was called a mental to my astrobiology teacher because my religion was truly excluded and removed from dna research......it is that as a woman I better understand shop class then the refinement of DNA....

Dachau concentration camp....they were slaves

Deleted DNA my birth father died and that childhood had to go away and you school mostly now

Schizophrenia mosaic in mexican glass I really don't like miller coors glass about regulations of intellectual perception change to my integrated emotions and if people won't give me my Mexican coalitions as you can see life nothing but an exhibitionist riot

Legos and that vaccine kept wanting to stab me with viruses instead of give me new game building DNA molecules

Its the English about military intelligence that finds the states so automated it's if they won't stop transplanting European labor unions here to very cheap patients like homeless people it's they will make me file for a monetary settlement so it's as equitably expensive to stalk people to be a very cheap object for their large grants in doctoral dissertation graduations

To the English I do have cognition and i can eat and go and do what I want

Write a grant proposal to transform this shelter from a very negative anti religion space to a Christian shelter....augmented and virtual reality like

They hate religion and believe their enlightening themselves through pain

There are many ways to vote and people will not slander me ...I am loyal I do care

After the wall diagnostics China nuclear physicists helped create the atomic bomb at Hiroshima and Nagasaki or these separations have caused an inverse

And that is the one sign I have learned about deaf pride

[fearevillikefire]

I really like living at home because i love my family and my cats...But i really really want to live in other states and cities for the experience, and the opportunities offered...

Pros of living at home: Family, cats, familiarity- the most important things in my life are here

Cons: Harder to find a job, boring, hot

Pros of moving away: Freedom, opportunities, career, success, money, making something of myself, experiencing life in a new city

Cons: Leaving home behind, loneliness, missing out on my family, missing my cats, worried about them all constantly

I just can't bring myself to do it even temporarily, i would be so heartbroken... but if i can't find a good job here, i shouldn't hold myself back from chances far away that would start me on a real career. But even then... i don't know if i could do it. It's not like i want to stay at home forever as a neet, the benefits of cheap rent and shit like that are way outweighed by all the family responsibilities i have to take care of. But at the same time, i desperately want to be here for my family to take care of these things for them, it's the most important thing to me that i can be here for them and care for my cats and all that. But i'm afraid that i might never make anything of myself if i stay here. I want to have a successful career very badly... i have a terrible fear of failure and i really really need to succeed at something. I want to be able to say hey, look at me, i did something with my life, i made something of myself... im not some high school kid anymore, im an adult man and im contributing to society in a cool way. I don't want to manage a fucking waffle house... i want to drive shit forward... i want to make changeee. I wanna stand up and say this is my career, i'm doing something that i worked hard to learn and i work hard doing. And i don't want to do stem😭. I've always wanted to teach, but now i feel like i want to do even more, go beyond that... but i don't want to be some stuffy ass professor wasting my time and knowledge writing pointless dissertations on shit that doesn't matter. Cruel, but that's what i've seen from my professors. i feel like that's a lesser job than just teaching. I wanna make waves, i wanna go beyond... i need to start being seriously creative. Because there is shit that this world needs to grow, people that this world needs to start generating new ideas and progressing forward. Those renaissance painters and inventors did it, those first real scientists did it, those enlightenment philosophers did it, the computer inventors did it... i want to do it too... i want to make a BIG IMPACT on the culture of this world. Or at least be part of something that's doing that. I don't have a great idea of what to do though :(

[paperhelpwritingservice]

How to Write Good Academic Papers: A Comprehensive Guide

Writing academic papers is an essential skill for students and researchers alike. It requires a clear understanding of the topic, a structured approach, and strong writing skills. In this guide, I’ll cover everything you need to know about writing high-quality academic papers that meet academic standards and effectively communicate your ideas.

1. Introduction

Academic writing is a critical skill for students and professionals in various fields. A well-written academic paper not only reflects the depth of your understanding but also your ability to communicate complex ideas effectively. Whether you’re writing a research paper, an essay, or a thesis, following a structured approach is key to achieving success.

2. Understanding Different Types of Academic Papers

Academic papers come in various forms, each with a specific purpose and style. Understanding these types will help you approach each assignment with the right mindset.

Research Papers

Research papers involve in-depth exploration of a topic, supported by primary and secondary sources. They require a well-defined thesis and present an argument based on evidence.

Essays

Essays are shorter pieces of writing that usually focus on a specific question or prompt. They can be argumentative, descriptive, or analytical, depending on the assignment.

Theses and Dissertations

These are lengthy, detailed documents that showcase original research or comprehensive analysis. Theses are typically for master’s programs, while dissertations are required for doctoral degrees.

Literature Reviews

Literature reviews summarize and evaluate existing research on a topic. They don’t present new research but rather provide a synthesis of current knowledge.

Case Studies

Case studies analyze specific events, individuals, or groups in detail. They are common in fields like psychology, business, and medicine.

Book Reviews

Book reviews assess a book's content, strengths, and weaknesses. They are often subjective but should be backed by specific examples from the text.

3. Selecting a Suitable Topic

Choosing the right topic is fundamental to your success. A well-selected topic will align with your interests, meet assignment guidelines, and have enough research material available.

Importance of Choosing the Right Topic

Selecting a relevant topic can make or break your paper. A topic you’re passionate about can keep you engaged and motivated throughout the writing process.

How to Narrow Down a Broad Topic

If your topic is too broad, you may struggle to cover it in detail. Narrow it down by focusing on a specific aspect or question within the broader subject area.

Tips for Selecting a Relevant and Interesting Topic

Choose a topic that interests you.

Make sure the topic is relevant to the course or field.

Check if there’s enough research material available.

4. Conducting Thorough Research

Good research underpins every strong academic paper. Without solid evidence, even the most well-written paper will lack credibility.

Importance of Research in Academic Writing

Research provides the foundation for your arguments, allowing you to back up your claims with facts and insights from experts in the field.

Primary vs. Secondary Sources

Primary sources are original materials, such as experiments, surveys, or historical documents.

Secondary sources interpret or analyze primary sources, such as review articles or textbooks.

Using Academic Databases

Academic databases like JSTOR, PubMed, and Google Scholar provide access to peer-reviewed journals, articles, and books. These resources are often more credible than general internet sources.

Evaluating Sources for Credibility

Check the author’s credentials, publication date, and whether the source has been peer-reviewed. Avoid using outdated or biased sources unless they’re necessary for a historical perspective.

5. Developing a Strong Thesis Statement

Your thesis statement is the core of your paper. It should clearly state your main argument and guide the reader on what to expect.

What Is a Thesis Statement?

A thesis statement is a concise sentence or two that summarizes the main point or claim of your paper.

Characteristics of a Strong Thesis Statement

Specific and clear

Arguable and not a statement of fact

Focused and relevant to your paper’s content

Examples of Effective Thesis Statements

“The rise of social media has significantly impacted the political landscape by increasing both misinformation and civic engagement.”

“Climate change poses a serious threat to biodiversity, and immediate actions are necessary to prevent irreversible damage.”

6. Structuring Your Academic Paper

A well-structured paper makes it easy for the reader to follow your arguments. Most academic papers follow a similar structure, consisting of an introduction, body, and conclusion.

Understanding the Basic Structure

Each section of your paper serves a specific purpose:

Introduction: Introduces the topic and thesis.

Body: Presents and supports your arguments.

Conclusion: Summarizes the findings and reiterates the thesis.

Outlining Your Paper

An outline serves as a roadmap for your paper, helping you organize your thoughts and ensure that each point logically flows into the next.

Creating a Coherent Flow of Ideas

Transitions between paragraphs are essential for readability. Make sure each paragraph naturally leads into the next, reinforcing your thesis throughout.

7. Writing the Introduction

The introduction should engage the reader’s interest and provide a preview of what the paper will cover.

Hooking the Reader

Start with an interesting fact, a rhetorical question, or a brief anecdote related to your topic. This helps grab the reader’s attention right from the start.

Providing Background Information

Give the reader enough context to understand the importance of your topic. Avoid going into too much detail, as this will be covered in the body.

Stating the Thesis and Purpose

End the introduction with your thesis statement and a brief outline of the paper’s structure.

8. Crafting the Body of the Paper

The body is where you present your arguments, backed by evidence from your research. Each paragraph should focus on a single point that supports your thesis.

Organizing Ideas Logically

Each paragraph should begin with a topic sentence that introduces the point, followed by evidence and examples.

Writing Clear and Concise Paragraphs

Avoid long, convoluted sentences. Aim for clarity and brevity, ensuring each sentence adds value to your argument.

Using Evidence and Examples

Support your points with evidence from credible sources, such as statistics, quotes, and examples. This adds weight to your arguments.

Citing Sources Correctly

Use in-text citations according to your style guide. Proper citation not only gives credit to the original authors but also strengthens your credibility.

9. Writing the Conclusion

The conclusion wraps up your paper by summarizing your main points and reinforcing the thesis.

Summarizing Key Points

Briefly restate the main points of your paper, highlighting how they support your thesis.

Restating the Thesis

Rephrase your thesis statement, showing how your arguments have proven it to be true.

Providing a Closing Thought

End with a thought-provoking statement, a call to action, or a suggestion for further research.

10. Editing and Revising Your Paper

Revision is essential to producing a polished final product. Don’t skip this step!

The Importance of Revising and Editing

Editing allows you to catch errors, improve clarity, and ensure your paper meets academic standards.

Common Errors to Look Out For

Grammatical mistakes

Unclear arguments

Inconsistent citation format

Using Peer Review

A fresh pair of eyes can catch errors you might miss. Ask a friend, classmate, or mentor to review your paper.

11. Formatting and Style Guides

Different disciplines have different formatting requirements. Make sure you know which style guide to use.

APA, MLA, and Chicago Styles Explained

APA: Common in psychology and social sciences.

MLA: Used in humanities, especially literature.

Chicago: Preferred in history and some social sciences.

How to Apply Formatting Guidelines Correctly

Refer to the official style guide for specific formatting rules on citations, headings, and references.

12. Using Citations and Avoiding Plagiarism

Proper citation is crucial in academic writing. Not only does it give credit, but it also strengthens your credibility.

Why Citations Are Important

Citations acknowledge the work of others and allow readers to verify your sources.

Common Citation Mistakes

Avoid incorrect formatting, missing citations, and over-reliance on one source.

Tools for Managing References

Consider using reference management tools like Zotero, EndNote, or Mendeley to organize your sources and create citations.

13. Academic Writing Tips for Success

To produce a high-quality paper, follow these tips:

Maintaining a Formal Tone

Academic papers require a formal, objective tone. Avoid slang, contractions, and colloquial language.

Using Precise Language

Be specific and avoid vague terms. Clarity is essential to convey your message effectively.

Tips for Improving Clarity

Use short sentences, active voice, and direct language to enhance readability.

14. Common Challenges and How to Overcome Them

Writing academic papers can be challenging, but with practice, you’ll improve over time.

Dealing with Writer’s Block

Take breaks, brainstorm ideas, and set small goals to overcome writer’s block.

Managing Time Effectively

Create a writing schedule, break the work into manageable chunks, and stick to your deadlines.

Handling Feedback and Criticism

Embrace constructive criticism as an opportunity to improve. Learn from feedback and apply it to future assignments.

15. Conclusion

Writing good academic papers takes time, practice, and a methodical approach. By following this guide, you’ll be well on your way to producing high-quality academic papers that communicate your ideas effectively and meet academic standards. Remember, every great writer started somewhere—keep practicing, and you’ll continue to improve.

FAQs

1. What makes a good academic paper? A good academic paper is clear, well-organized, and thoroughly researched. It has a strong thesis, uses credible sources, and adheres to formatting guidelines.

2. How can I improve my academic writing skills? Practice regularly, read academic journals, seek feedback, and pay attention to style guides to improve your skills.

3. What are the most common mistakes in academic writing? Common mistakes include vague thesis statements, lack of structure, improper citations, and failure to follow formatting guidelines.

4. How do I know if my sources are credible? Look for peer-reviewed articles, reputable authors, recent publications, and information from academic databases.

5. How long does it take to write an academic paper? The time varies based on the paper’s length and complexity. A well-planned schedule and disciplined approach can make the process more manageable.

[themaraudershavethephonebox]

Untitled Unsolved AU

or

Untitled Shirtless LE !!!

Nena, just for you, I'll tell you about both 😉

During Sydney's second lockdown I got really into buzzfeed Unsolved and I really like writing banter between Marauders and co so the concept just worked. I haven't gotten very far with it because it's my brain off fic but it's got a special place in my heart. Snippet below <3

Morning! Macdonald, is it?” she grins. She’s got a gravelly voice and a distinctly northern Scottish accent. Mary nods as the blond comes round the car and sticks her hand out which Mary shakes. “Marlene McKinnon.” “The head doctor for the head cases?” Lily asks; she’s holding two iced lattes in her hands and kicks the driver's side door of her car closed. Marlene McKinnon snorts. “Not quite yet, this study is a part of my dissertation. Hopefully you guys and these Marauder dolts can help me get qualified.”

As for untitled shirtless LE, it came about when Shirtless JP May(was it may?) was happening and people were discussing doing a shirtless LE August(?) and I just took that as a prompt and ran, I haven't worked on it in a while since I've gotten to a point where I'm unsure where to take it but it do think it's some of my best writing.

They both ignore him, holding each other’s gaze. He’s still standing beside her seat, shifting his weight on either foot as an awkward tension falls over the table. Oh. He’s waiting for a greeting. Fuck, fucking fuck. Does she hug him? Is a handshake too formal? Fucking christ, Evans, get up. After what feels like an eternity she rises from her seat and now they’re both shifting awkwardly. It’s just a hug, a friendly hug, just like she gave everyone else. Just like she’ll give Sirius and Peter when they arrive. They can be friendly, this doesn’t have to be awkward. Even if the last year of their relationship boiled down to petty rows and cheap shots. Oh fuck it. They move in the same moment. He thrusts his hand out like a complete prat at the same time she reaches up to wrap her arms around his shoulders. His hand is on her tit, sandwiched between their bodies, and her face is too close to his neck and his other hand is on the small of her back and hers are too close to his hair and god, does he still use the same shampoo?

Thank you as always for engaging with my writing, you really do make my day <3

[dankusner]

Richard Val LeClercq — ENGLISH E374L Donne/Johson

Richard Val LeClercq, 63, died July 29, 2005, from complications of acute alcoholism.

He is survived by his son Noel LeClercq, San Marcos; daughter Desiree LeClercq, Austin; stepson Glenn Ross, Austin; brother Leon LeClercq, Los Angeles; and a host of ex-wives.

Val was born in Los Angeles and received his Ph.D. from UCLA, where he swam butterfly and sang tenor in the Opera Workshop.

He was hired by the University of Texas Department of English as their authority on poet John Milton.

Val taught for almost 30 years, switching specialities to literary criticism and directing the dissertations of many bright English majors.

Val was a talented pianist, and had a sweet tenor voice.

He was a golden-ear hi-fi enthusiast who designed and built stereo systems.

He brought enthusiasm and intelligence into each of his many projects, and somehow talked his friends into participating in each outlandish invention.

His family thanks the English Department for its patience with his disease.

The family plans a wake to celebrate his life and introduce his old friends to his children.

Please call Terri for details of the Final A-B Test.

The family hopes each reader will make out a will, right now. Memorials should be sent to Alcoholics Anonymous, North Austin 24-Hour Group, Austin 78758.

Published in the Austin American-Statesman on 8/6/2005.

Richard Val LeClercq ("Val") was by far my favorite college professor at UT in Austin.

One of the reasons I get so pissed off when people say "drugs are bad but alcohol is fine" is because the only person I've ever seen destroyed by a substance addiction was Val--alcohol killed him.

After a while he could no longer teach, so he sat at home and I, along with my friend Mike, were the only two people who would spend any time with him.

Unfortunately, after a while, he made it clear that he no longer wanted anyone to be around and while it was incredibly sad, there was nothing more we could do for him and we eventually lost touch.

The last time I saw him, which was sometime in 1999 or maybe early 2000, he seemed to be on the verge of death.

I remember sitting by his hospital bed giving him kumquats, which is all he could eat for some reason.

Cheap vodka did him in. Nonetheless, even with a BAC higher than that of a date-raped sorority girl, he was still the best teacher I've ever had. I always wondered how he was doing.

Val will certainly be missed. I give my condolences to his family, his many ex-wives, and "the Lac", his polish wife who he could never quite seem to get entrance to the US (that's assuming the Lac was still his wife at the time of his death last year).

Val was a nutty guy for sure.

But he was also a genius, and made me realize nothing is above scorn, and cynicism trumps all.

His Lit-Crit class consisted of taking scholarly writings by well-respected academics and tearing them apart.

Truly a great class.

We'd spend most of class time in his office drinking cheap coffee or lapsang soushong tea, making fun of the other students in the class (who were wondering where the teacher was) and the staff of the English department.

Since he didn't feel like doing it, he would let me grade the papers of students in his other classes (not my fellow students, as that would probably be somewhat of a conflict of interest).

I only failed a few people, for the record.

I'll always remember Val, and I wish he didn't force me and Mike to leave him alone in his last years.

Alcohol destroyed the life of a great man, and I witnessed it first hand.

I can't say the same for pot, cocaine, meth, heroin, or any other drug.

If you believe in drug prohibition, you're a worthless hypocrite if you don't also support alcohol prohibition (which, like drug prohibition, we know doesn't work).

Of course, even if alcohol had been illegal, Val would have distilled moonshine in his back yard and nothing would have been different.

But tonight, I'll drink a glass of cheap plastic-bottle vodka and store-brand cranberry juice in Val's memory (okay, it will be Gray Goose). Cheers, Val.

374L, Earlier 17th Century: Donne, Jonson, and Their Contemporaries

Poetry and prose, 1600 to 1660: the metaphysical and other leading traditions in poetry; the early poems of Milton; the essay, the character, and other prose forms. Three lecture hours a week for one semester. Prerequisite: Nine semester hours of coursework in English or rhetoric and writing.

Milton’s Paradox of Grace in Sonnet 7 

From conflict to composure, John Milton’s Sonnet 7—“How Soon Hath Time” (1632)—illustrates two life philosophies and the psychological ramifications each one may offer the individual. 

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, Stol’n on his wing my three-and-twentieth year! My hasting days fly on with full career, But my late spring no bud or blossom shew’th. Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth That I to manhood am arriv’d so near; And inward ripeness doth much less appear, That some more timely-happy spirits endu’th. Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow, It shall be still in strictest measure ev’n To that same lot, however mean or high, Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heav’n: All is, if I have grace to use it so As ever in my great Task-Master’s eye.

The poem’s speaker makes the successful transition from one philosophy to the other, describing the process in three quatrains and a couplet. 

In the first four lines of the sonnet, he is the victim of the struggle between determinism and his own expectations. 

By the end of the poem, he has found a peaceful release in the resignation that he may only control his response to life, not the course or even the content of it. 

The first quatrain of Milton’s Sonnet 7 presents the initial circumstances of our speaker’s quandary. 

Thematically, he feels in conflict with the passage of time, exasperated by its adroit and speedy progression. 

He is surprised by Time’s ability to act independently of, and with little regard for, his self-admitted immaturity as it steadily takes possession of his youth. 

Despite the speaker’s apparent sincerity, we are made aware of the true nature of the conflict through Milton’s ironic structure and word choice.

There are obvious disparities between the physical existence of the speaker and the abstract “Time,” as well as the tone of hopelessness inspired by the speaker’s relatively young age.

These incongruities reveal that the conflicts arise from the speaker’s own assumptions and expectations for his life.

The first indication of Time’s control is given in line one.

Personified, it terminates the first two iambic feet and is followed by a medial caesura in the form of a comma.

This strong termination and short pause emphasize the description that follows.

A metaphor is employed to describe Time as a subtle thief, this concept mimicked by the unaccented syllable cluster in the center of the last three iambs, “stealing” the line with an increase in metrical pace.

This metaphor is extended into the next line as Time becomes a flying creature.

The metonymy of “on his wing” heightens the sense of swift action.

Time—in this animated, masculine form—seems to outshine the speaker himself, whose only presence is indicated in the thrice-repeated adjective of possession, “my.”

This is curious incongruity, for despite the speaker’s ability to recount the circumstance, he is unable to act upon it.

Time is the active party here, stealing and flying beyond the speaker’s control.

With a preponderance of th and f consonant clusters in line one, there is the impression of a sputtering delivery of the exclamation as Time steals the speaker’s very breath.

The ironic personification of Time, and the inability of the speaker to control it, points up the speaker’s preoccupation with the concept of control.

Why is “he” so frustrated when faced with a basic element of the natural world?

The first quatrain illustrates an Aristotelian viewpoint that can wreak havoc in a young man’s life—and, indeed, it does cause problems for the speaker.

Implicit in his accusations are the clear traces of particular expectations.

First, the exclamation that Time is passing is the result of the assumption that it would not.

The speaker is chagrined as Time steals his “three-and-twentieth year,” flying as it goes.

An interesting shift occurs here as Milton introduces an inconsistency.

The “my” of line three claims the flight of “hasting days”; whereas, in lines one and two, only Time assumes the tenor of the bird metaphor.

With this in mind, the irony of “on with full career” is even more poignant.

Even though his days pass by at full speed, flying “on” instead of “off” (away from the speaker), he does not claim control of them.

It is the last line of the quatrain, however, that reveals the Aristotelian tendency to make plans, to anticipate their fulfillment, and then to draw conclusions based on assumptions.

“But” indicates the speaker’s disappointment as he muses upon his unsatisfied expectations and his wasted youth.

The progression of “bud or blossom” displays a distinct desire to advance through stages to some kind of tangible, evident goal, this desire explicitly articulated by “shew’th.”

Assisting this Aristotelian concept of expected progression is the specification of the speaker’s age.

He makes a point of stating the particular odd year (23rd) that marks his point of despair.

Again, Milton seasons the predicament with irony.

“Late spring” marks the end of childhood, but it also is the beginning of adulthood, a point the speaker cannot imagine.

He can only perceive the “subtle” thievery of Time, enervated by its elusiveness.

This is given formal, mimetic enactment as the masculine end-rhymes of lines two and three descend from sharp high vowels (“year,” “career”) down through “no bud or blossom,” to the despondently low ew of “shew’th.”

Appropriately, the moments of metrical incoherence occur at the points of doubt and frustration.

The “subtle thief of” unaccented cluster is matched by an even more uncontrollable stressed cluster in line three— “hasting days fly on.”

These are followed by the hesitant unstressed foot beginning line four, which consolidates the attempt to thwart the speaker’s rigid iambic pentameter.

A shift from an a posteriori stance to an a priori position of questioning provides for thematic, structural, and tonal changes in the second quatrain.

For the speaker, these four lines are an aporia following the hopeless feeling in the first quatrain.

He is not sure what to make of the situation.

Allowing his mind to survey the circumstances and distinguish the elements of his conflict, he moves into a more balanced state of mind.

This reflective yet passive stance is enacted both verbally and formally.

“Perhaps” and “might” of line one indicate the speaker’s reluctance to once again impose his hasty conclusions as he reflects.

His “semblance” provides him with a self outside of himself whom he must confront.

This is not unlike his relationship to Time, which serves nicely as a scapegoat in the first quatrain.

This duality is embellished throughout the rest of the sonnet.

It introduces the important concept of multiplicity as a means to achieve balance and self-understanding.

On the one hand, the speaker’s “semblance” reflects a boy nearing manhood.

However, inner contemplation reflects immaturity—“ripeness doth much less appear.”

Recalling the premature expectation of “bud or blossom” in line four, the actual reflection “might deceive the truth” by convincing the speaker that he has become a man.

Milton effectively creates this sense of prematurity by inverting the natural subject-to-verb order of line six, “I to manhood am arriv’d so near.”

Again, the notions of anticipation and frustration are heightened by the phrases “to manhood am arriv’d” (an ideal) and “so near.”

On the contrary, “inward” contemplation reveals a green, hopeful state that neither thwarts nor frustrates maturity but, rather, promises to endue/endow at the hands of “timely- happy spirits.”

It’s important to note that these two reflections, though distinct, are conjoined.

The “and” of line seven brings the two reflections into a balanced composite portrait of the speaker, appealing to the sense of sight with the words “semblance” and “appear.”

Formally, this multiplicity transforms the cranky pace and tone of the first quatrain.

Lines five, six, and seven, instead of medial caesuras, place unstressed feet at the third foot, creating fluid but strongly polarized lines.

Their aural rhythm mimics the thematic duality of the quatrain.

The rhyme similarly mimics this new symmetry by achieving the abba scheme, correcting the abbc variation of the previous quatrain.

The calm tone of these second four lines allows Milton to alter the relationship between the speaker and his conflict.

For the first time, the first person pronoun “I” is asserted, the paradox resulting from this acknowledgment of multiplicity.

Likewise, Time is no longer an elusive, thieving personification but, rather, a descriptive aid, “timely.”

Although his self-criticism is harsh (“inward ripeness doth much less appear”) the speaker arrives, inadvertently, at new conclusions that are not, in this case, fatalistic.

The metaphysical “happy spirits” that will ripen the speaker’s character are both generous and opportune, but they are also independent of the speaker.

Has he learned his lesson?

He does not attempt to distinguish their ranks (as in his articulation of age), choosing instead “some” (happy spirits).

Nor does he try to discern the “bud or blossom” of their assistance.

The shift from desire for external evidence to internal observation seems promising.

The formal aural lightness of line eight seems to indicate such a progression as the accented “timely-happy spirits endu’th” replaces “no bud or blossom shew’th” from line four.

At this point, Milton’s irony becomes paradoxical.

Inner contemplation, not external “semblance,” reveals the truth: passive reflection, not external activity, brings disparity into balance.

The last quatrain synthesizes the sonnet’s first eight lines.

Beginning with “Yet,” the tone of resignation, of unquestioning acceptance, is immediately established with the volta—that is, the turn in thought or argument in the sonnet form.

Thematically, Milton projects the concepts of multiplicity and passivity into a religious context.

Giving them a religious breadth, he also alters their previously individualized application.

Our speaker seems to represent every Protestant, if not “everyman.”

The point, however, is not pushed to its extreme.

God remains rather ambiguous, as does the role of the divine, in salvation through multiplicity and passivity.

Just as the first quatrain has a distinctly Aristotelian bias, the last quatrain displays a definite Platonic viewpoint.

Binary oppositions abound, a syntactic ligation stringing them together  indifferently.

The four inclusive instances of “or” combine the many facets of the speaker’s maturing character into a veritable, and variable, cynosure of possibility.

The speaker knows not to attempt their distinction, thrice referring to the options as “it” and leaving the decisions up to Time, which has reassumed a personified stance.

The reconstituted entity seems to be a “comic” hybrid of the metaphorical thieving bird and the “happy spirits.”

As an afterthought, Milton’s phrase “and the will of Heav’n” gives Time divine inspiration.

Medial caesuras after “more” and “lot” help to break up the four lines, emphasizing the multiplicity effect.

“To” and “Toward” offer multiple meanings for the concept “approach,” becoming a combination of spatial movement and movement towards similarity of kind.

Of the three quatrains, the third is the least coherent, metrically.

It contains the only enjambment (“ev’n/To that same lot”), but, as if “in strictest measure,” it is accepted with its disparate and overreaching patterns.

The themes of resignation and passivity, however, are the foci of lines nine through twelve.

With the reintroduction of the personified Time, “I” is replaced by the once-mentioned first- person object “me.”

This submission, in reverence to the divine, is encouraged by the certainty and confidence of the “shall be” prophesy of line ten.

“That same lot” embodies the essence of the speaker’s resigned indifference.

Completely turned around, he no longer has expectations of his own but, rather, offers the amorphous “lot” of his life to Time and “the will of Heav’n.”

Ironically, the two “shall be still in strictest measure” if this resignation is sustained.

The power of the volta and the binary oppositions allow for the notion of “lot,” or a multifaceted future.

This is quite a departure from the very specific “three-and- twentieth year,” at which time “bud or blossom” are the only options.

With resignation comes the acceptance of multiplicity RVL – Yes, of course, you needed to elaborate further, especially But what you did do with the formal is quite good! And your thematic discussion is clearly the best in the class!

Richard Val LeClercq, 63, died July 29, 2005, from complications of acute alcoholism.

He is survived by his son Noel LeClercq, San Marcos; daughter Desiree LeClercq, Austin; stepson Glenn Ross, Austin; brother Leon LeClercq, Los Angeles; and a host of ex-wives. Val was born in Los Angeles and received his Ph.D. from UCLA, where he swam butterfly and sang tenor in the Opera Workshop. He was hired by the University of Texas Department of English as their authority on poet John Milton. Val taught for almost 30 years, switching specialities to literary criticism and directing the dissertations of many bright English majors. Val was a talented pianist, and had a sweet tenor voice. He was a GoldenEar hi-fi enthusiast who designed and built stereo systems. He brought enthusiasm and intelligence into each of his many projects, and somehow talked his friends into participating in each outlandish invention. His family thanks the English Department for its patience with his disease. The family plans a wake to celebrate his life and introduce his old friends to his children. Please call Terri for details of the Final A-B Test. The family hopes each reader will make out a will, right now. Memorials should be sent to Alcoholics Anonymous, North Austin 24-Hour Group. — Family-Placed Obituary, Austin American-Statesman, August 6, 2005

on the verbal. and the paradoxes of fate.

The speaker accepts passively his lot, willing to follow Time and an ill-defined destiny.

Completing the transformation from obsessive control to passive resignation, the couplet is, itself, a binary opposition.

At the end of the poem, it presents a promise and a warning to the speaker.

“All is,” isolated by an initial caesura, restates the “lot” concept of a multiplicitous future, setting it apart as the stake in the balance.

In regular iambic pentameter, the speaker evenly states, “if I have grace to use it so,” revealing a dependency on “the will of Heav’n” and the leadership of Time.

The last line of the sonnet breaks up the rhythm, stressing “great Task-Master’s eye.”

This is appropriate, considering that the appearance of “inward ripeness” is to be evaluated with the inner eye, and not the deceptive, outer reflection.

The speaker of Sonnet 7, over the course of the poem, moves from anxiety to inner peace.

This transformation is achieved through the acceptance of a passive role in relation to Time and Heaven.

Milton’s conclusion, however, poses several questions.

Fittingly, these concern the duality of the speaker’s redemption. If inner peace is contingent on the grace of God, why is the speaker’s own self-evaluation made to seem so important?

Likewise, if the speaker has achieved this transformation of attitude from the volta in line nine to the end, why is there a lingering question as to the certainty of “if I have grace”?

Punctuating these questions is the uncanny duality of “I” and “eye.”

Placed in such close proximity in the text, the distinction between these homophones is difficult to discern if heard aloud. Milton leaves us, ultimately, with a perplexing conclusion. Is the giver of grace just as multiplicitous as the life that receives it? A passive response, we have learned, keeps those questions at bay.

John Ewing

The Poetry of John Milton,

ENG 363

Prof. Richard “Val” LeClercq University of Texas at Austin 1989

RVL – Yes, of course, you needed to elaborate further, especially on the verbal.

But what you did do with the formal is quite good!

And your thematic discussion is clearly the best in the class!

[softek121]

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[thomas0001]

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[fireartandstylezine]

There has been an enormous shift in the way college is taught, and universities and their administrators don't care. To them, college is not about teaching; it is about research and government money.

Many folks from working-class backgrounds (myself included) come to college and especially graduate school because they want to teach. However, resources for teaching are next to nil. 90% of courses are taught by graduate students and adjuncts. They are the bottom rung of teaching and are assigned most of the intro level classes. Graduate students are given next to no teacher training and are told to do the bare minimum course prep, instruction, and grading. Who tells them this? Their advisors - the associate professors and tenure-track professors who teach your upper division and graduate level courses.

Graduate students are explicitly told to focus on the research "like it's their job" even though, for most of us, it will never land us a job. I don't even know what adjuncts are told, for the most part they get ignored. Upon finishing the PhD that was supposed to prepare me for a teaching job, I was unable to even get adjunct work because there are fewer and fewer teaching jobs.

So: this creates a situation where no one is taught how to teach, those who put effort into teaching are penalized because their research suffers, and what few lessons are learned about teaching never get passed on because it's wholly undervalued.

Graduate research benefits almost no one but the advisors, who can use cheap, revolving graduate labor to augment their own careers. Professorial research, meanwhile, brings in government and business contracts, which is where half of university money comes from.

The other half of university money comes from tuition.

Many working-class undergrads assume that the university is there to teach them and that the cost of tuition is based on the salary of professors, the cost of running equipment, and so on. Yeah, it's not. The university admins decide the cost of tuition by arbitrarily ranking universities, and then looking at what other universities in their bracket charge, and then charging their own students accordingly. This decides 2/3 of university cost.

What I'm getting at here is that the university system is fundamentally broken in the United States. Professors are systemically not allowed to care about students and their disabilities; the office of Accessibility is there as a cheap and efficient way to shunt off students who have ADHD and other access needs. 99.99% of professors are not taught about course accessibility unless they somehow used up their rare spare moments to attend an expensive workshop or, even more rare, took technical writing at some point, or had the time to take to actually speak to a student with accessibility needs. I did many of these things and it made me a rare freak among my peers and I had to switch dissertation advisors three times in a six year program and, again, because I focused more on teaching - what I thought the purpose of the university was - than on research, I was in the end unable to obtain a job as a professor. Anyone who cares deeply about their students is, eventually, pushed out.

Being a student isn't being a job; it's being a commodity. You are being "manufactured" into a valuable, if interchangeable, gear in the labor market for the benefit of the capitalist class. Your professor isn't your enemy; they are always already a beat-down, worn-out gear. The university admin is the enemy - the provost, the governor-appointed board of regents, the deans and the president.

There is no individualist, meritocratic solution to the problem with the modern university. It will not reward you for raising your hand and participating. It lied to you. It resents you for your presence and your accessibility needs only make you stick in its craw like a knight's sword in a dragon's mouth. Looking back, I wish I had taken more opportunities to organize.

It is always the Humanities, by the way, who leverage such systematic critiques of the university system and actually do try to do their best to teach and treat their students like well humans, and incidentally, just a propos of nothing of course, it's always by some mystery the Humanities are the ones who get attacked and de-funded at every turn.

I am really sorry for your experience, OP.

What the fuck is up with professors not including an assignment schedule in the syllabus I'm going to scream