Who You Callin' Crusty?

(C-Day minus revisions, defence) I am working, slowly but surely through the revisions offered me by Supervisor. Some are difficult because I am so emotionally attached these sentences with which I have spent seemingly years. Other revisions are difficult because it is just hard to know what to do with them. I am currently stuck on one of those. Supervisor recommended I read an article (which he also provided me) in order to address one of my thesis concepts. I had an opportunity to spend some time at a cafe, so thought this the perfect time to throw down some intensive reading. Mistake. Not a mistake to read it at the cafe, it was a mistake to read it altogether. This article, from 1986 is an airtight (from my perspective - and I want to refute it) critique of one of my concepts which, up to this point, I really liked. What to do? Well, it dealt with Marxist concepts, so I phoned the crustiest, Marxiest guy I know: (former) Roommate.

In explaining this dilemma to f-Roommate, an important realization came to fore. He asked me "Is this concept really important to your thesis?" To which I replied "Yeah, it is fairly important, and I do like it. It sits really well with everything else, and besides Supervisor suggested I include it when we went over things at my proposal defence..." It was here that I realized something. Supervisor recommended me one useful article, written in 1982, then also recommended the very article, written in 1986 that refutes that article. It isn't like this article just came out and he didn't realize it existed, it's only 2 years younger than me. This is troubling... f-Roommate found this funny, me...not so much.

Fortunately, just hacking it out verbally seemed to help. It was good to talk about it (out loud) and also to hear some ideas on how to address the issue. We will see soon enough if this adequately addresses the issue so that I can resubmit it and then maybe be referred to another article from 1988 that refutes everything else. Can't wait!

'There may have been one of these' song of the day: Communication Breakdown - Led Zeppelin

One Less Book Come the Ides of April...

(C-Day minus minor revisions, defence) You want to know the best part about being at the stage I am currently at? Everything....Well, maybe not everything, but it is certainly better than the last stages. There was however, a distinct pleasure last Friday that was unexpected but definitely welcomed. Allow me to spin this yarn:

As a graduate student I have the advantage of taking library books out for more than the usual 2 weeks allotted undergrads. How much more time? I'm not sure, I think they stopped asking for the books back after a year...well, maybe not that long. Whenever I register for a term, I renew my books and keep them out for another 4 months. I've had some books out for years now. The only time I generally need to return my books is when someone else needs them and recalls them from me. In the wild throes of thesising, Murphy's Law states that the book you require the most is the first book recalled. Also, when you recall it back from them, they will continue to recall it back from you, perpetuating a recall war that no one likes to lose, especially if one chapter's argument hinges on that book. Anyways, so I had to return a recalled book on Friday (Music & Propoganda), but was able to do so without the usual pain of having to recall it again, schlep all the way back to library a week later to pick it up again, and then back to the library once more to return it post-recall, ad nauseum. I returned the book...and that was it! That was it!!! I don't need it anymore! I don't need any of them anymore! This is the beginning of the end. It is a small, simple pleasure, but a pleasure nonetheless.

While the attrition of my borrowed book collection slowly wages on I do have two books that won't be recalled - they belong to Committee Member #3...I think he has forgotten this. I *want* to return them, I really do, but I know that when I do return them he will remember loaning them to ages ago and that it took me this long to return them. He will then probably assume that I read them back to front a million times (let me address this right now - I didn't) and proceed to drill me on their content in the defence. This would be detrimental to my cause. So he might get a 'thanks for passing me on my defence book return gift' or reversely he may receive a 'I can't believe you didn't pass me envelope full of shredded books ' gift. Here's hoping for the former (I'd hate to shred a book - it's not the book's fault).

The 'if they were shredded, it would only be a-' song of the day: Slight Return - The Bluetones

p.s. I think my actual plan is to return the books anonymously with a gift-card and hope he doesn't remember who he loaned them out to... Airtight!

Worst. Email Exchange. Ever.

(C-Day minus committee revisions, defence) So I finally received word from Supervisor regarding my thesis draft. It took him about a week/forever (when it is your wordy child being graded). So did he lavish me with praise? Hammer me with criticism? Give any indication as to his thoughts? You tell me, here is the email:

"Hi Matt

I have read it and made marginal comments. We should meet and discuss. Cheers. Supervisor"

Are you kidding me? That was my life's work...in fact my Greatest Writing Work (GWW)! Marginal comments - good! Should meet - bad. What does this mean? So I retort:

"Dear Supervisor,

Thanks again for going through the draft so quickly [....] Can we set up a chat on the phone sometime before the weekend? Just let me know when I can call, and I will do so. Cheers. Matt"

Saying thanks for the speed is me sounding calmer than I feel. I ask for a phone call because clearly I am *dying* for feedback, having received none so far. I am trying to politely ask for feedback without sounding desperate (am I trying to date him?). He responded quickly:

"Face to face would be better, Matt. I want to go over some of the written comments I have placed in the margins [....]. Supervisor."

Cue heart sinking. Face to face? You mean you can't just say "awesome" over the phone? Uh-oh. This feels bad. This confirms the bad feelings for not having any feedback previously. My head is spinning, I am writing and rewriting responses to this in my head. I want to plead with him, "Please, I can try harder! I can do more! I'm not like this!" (are we breaking up?). My response:

"Hi Supervisor,

Sure that would be fine. [...] Thanks for being so accommodating. In the meantime, can you give me your general sense of the draft, for example, are there specific sections I should pay close attention to in preparation for our meeting?"

This is me at my best. I am trying my hardest not to grovel for feedback, which I, at this point, need in order to breathe. Also, I am trying not to just yell "GIVE ME AN ADJECTIVE!!!" Anything would have done at that point. Bad. Great! Profound! Pedantic. Long. Written in black ink. I just needed something. His response to my 'took hours to craft' plea:

"There is no particular section to look at"

KABOOM!!! I don't even know *what* to think. My mind explodes with possibilities. When your mind explodes, you can really only revert to your most base instincts. So I did what anyone would do. I called my mom. Cue peace of mind and wise motherly analogies.

I went into the meeting with Supervisor and was pleasantly surprised with mostly editorial revisions (Are you kidding me?! Adjectives go a long way for peace of mind, Supervisor) and Supervisor was super nice. We walked through the entire thing, page by page in his kitchen (how awesome is he?). Afterwards the whole thing felt within reach and I was ready to jump into it (after the Olympics of course). Meeting conclusion = feeling pretty swell. As I was beaming out of Supervisors front door, I paused at the top of his driveway to look to the sky and appreciate a cool evening and pleasant encounter, when my phone rings in my hand. Like only a mother could, it was a perfectly timed call from across the country late at night, away from her home on a cell, in hushed tones to keep from waking the grandmother. "How did it go?" How did she know?

An unforgettable Olympic weekend and a delightful email exchange with a new friend have done much to recover the damage done by my worst enemy (at times): my imagination. GWW is on the up on up.

'Could have been Supervisor's last email' song of the day: Didn't I (Blow Your Mind This Time) - The Delfonics

p.s. Just to be clear: My supervisor is awesome, and gives me far more time than I deserve. Despite my frustration with our email exchange he is quite thoughtful and super nice. I don't want to leave you with the wrong impression, this is just one of those funny exchanges that is only really funny after the fact because my inner monologue was so ridiculous.

Cold Sweat

(C-Day minus final revisions, defence) Yesterday was a big day, a big terrifying day. The academic semester is sort of misleading in that it doesn't overlap with the thesis completion calendar. In order to get a thesis finished, defended and handed in, a draft needs to go into the supervisor pretty much by the beginning of the second month of the term (Feb., May, or November). This of course makes the beginning of each term a little angst ridden in that as much as it means a new start, it also means that the hammer will soon drop. In any event, this meant that I would not and could not wait for more revisions to come in, and I had to throw myself on the mercy of my supervisor. This is not to say that I am not immensely proud of what I have written thus far, it just means that there may be some undesirables in the thesis as a whole, which is why it was a terrifying day.

The email to which my thesis was attached took me about half an hour to craft, but I can safely say they are a high quality three sentences...of terror! This fine tuning was followed by an additional half hour of humming and hawing over actually sending this finely crafted email, with a finely crafted thesis attached to it to my supervisor. But I did it! I clicked 'send'....and immediately regretted it. Not because I would have done anything differently, but it was that move that could not be taken back. It was like taking your finger off the chess piece, only to look to your opponents determined eyes and regret the move for reasons as of yet unknown to you. So I sweat. Then I sweat some more. Then I got over it. But then I sweat a little more. I sweat because I wasn't sure when I would get a response, even just to say that it had been received and that I wasn't so deficient that I couldn't send an email - a very real possibility given the state I was in.

Somehow I managed to make it through the night, and received my confirmation email today. Two lines (though I doubt it took Supervisor more than 15 seconds to 'craft') that said thanks (he's so nice!) and that he would get back to me "soon". Cue sweating. Soon? You mean judgement passes soon?! How soon? Not too soon. I need a moment to forget that it is off my plate for the moment. Give me a moment! But not too many moments - don't want to start sweating over why it is taking so long. Obviously there is nothing fun about this process, I don't recommend it - not to friends anyways. At least it only lasts a few more days...then it is on to the revisions stress followed closely by the defence stress. Hurray Masters programs!!!

If I was friends (it'd have to be good friends) with Brian Wilson song of the day: Don't Worry Baby - Beach Boys

Metonym-Rods

(C-Day minus final read through; supervisor edits; defence) OK, so this is a post a long time in the making, but the breaking point has finally been hit. An article by George Orwell once chastised the use of "dead metaphors", that is, analogies and metonym so over-used as to no longer properly lend the audience the true value of the comparison. "Falling in love" being the easiest example that comes to mind, where use is so common, the feelings involved in this free fall sensation are lost. However, the importance of dead metaphors to me here are that they are great examples of intellectual laziness. Instead of coming up with fresh comparisons, or weaving the highly flexible English language into a tapestry of imagery, these authors cement age-old comparisons further in place.

Now, I know it is too much to expect the journalists who publish daily articles in online and print newspapers to craft their words into anything other than mostly descriptive bunk. I do, honestly. However, this is not the only example of intellectual laziness these days. I do not think it is too much to ask that these daily writers at least spell their stupid, ancient word-smithing correctly. Everyday there are countless spelling errors, typos, and grammatical errors in every paper from the strictly online Huffington Post, to the hoity National Post and Globe & Mail. I understand that there is an impetus to get articles out on time in order to get the newspapers shipped on time, but there is no excuse for not revising all those mistakes in the online versions. Do they even read their own work?! What exactly are the editors doing? That would be the equivalent of a plumber refusing to plumb, a teacher avoiding the teaching aspect of their job.

It used to be said that in order to read the Toronto Star, one needed at minimum a 3rd grade reading level, but I do not believe it is a requirement to write as if one was in fact in the 3rd grade. The population is becoming collectively more stupid, there is no need to hasten this process. We might end up closer to our American counterparts where dollars stripped from the education system to fuel the military fools learning so badly that generations later they cannot comprehend the value of discontinuing pointless further war efforts, forever perpetuating the cycle of stupid.

The 'expecting too much from newspapers was mine' song of the day: My Last Mistake - Dan Auerbach

Back Up! I Need Back Up!

(C-Day minus 1 edits, revisions, defence) An open letter to computer virus designers:

Dear a-holes,

You make me sad.

Unkind regards,
Guy Drinking Milk

So my computer is in the shop because it was shut down by a particularly nasty virus. Don't ask me how I am writing this...it's maa-a-gic. This virus will cost me at least 100$ which I would gladly collect in teeth from these hackers...any hackers really. It is a job and industry of zero moral value. Virus software and other programming companies' hiring of "successful" virus programmers make some feel warm and fuzzy because obviously the "best" are off the "streets" and working for the "good guys" now, but really, what is it other than perpetuating the idea that the most prolific virus = fattest paycheque, ad nauseum. Those fat paycheques should go entirely into dentistry bills while allowing anyone impacted by their virus to knock a few teeth in.

One thing that has come out of getting this virus has been the emphatic reminder to back up anything I wish not to lose (my thesis, my music, my pictures...probably in that order). While I have everything that I have created or added to my computer backed up on an external harddrive (as well as a few friends' music libraries too. Genius move!), I also have a lot stored online. While some may hark at the fact that I ranked my documents and my tunes ahead of pictures of my family, friends, etc, most of those pictures are happily stored either on Facebook or with the emails in which they were sent to me.

Which brings me to my 2nd PSA (the first one was for the mothers of hackers - keep them in the basement if you want to continue to see them smile), which is to keep your email account organized! Folders! Folders! Folders! I would hazard a guess at the number of emails in my account being in the many thousands, but I keep them all neatly filed away in folders. One for emails with pictures, one for anytime I email myself something, one for articles, and a few for individuals who email me frequently. It is through these folders (and my constant emailing to myself copies of minutely altered copies of the thesis) that I am able to safely back up, as well as track the progress of my thesis. Wonderful, aside from clearly seeing how slow this process has been. Ugh. I could write a paper on the trends of my writing, were I not so engrossed in my writing. Interestingly enough, highly productive weeks and highly unproductive weeks look exactly the same - long time between emails.

'Song virus' (ear worm/tune stuck in your head) of the day (for the hackers): It's a Small World After all - the Disney Childrens Chorus
The 'this is what you are, hacker' song of the day: A-Punk - Vampire Weekend

all this virus talk, I may have to get a Mac...

A Mo'vember to Remember

(C-Day minus ch.1 edits, revisions and defence) Today is the day that I feel ready to announce the arrival and residence of my mo'. In honour of the month of Movember, I, along with several thousand other men around the globe, will become a Mo'Bro and grow a moustache in order to raise awareness for men's health, specifically prostate cancer. This is one of the few awareness campaigns I have ever supported and I am happy to see fairly widespread recognition from both men and women who know why half the city population suddenly (-ish) got a little bit (very much) uglier...if not manlier. It is a month of pride and the gentlemanly pursuit of reaching out (from the upper lip) to our brethren struck (and not yet struck) by cancer. Grow on!

The moustache culture is a funny one, in that there is (in the "literature") some animosity towards the beard growers, and definite differentiation from the goatee sporters. I suppose that is fair though, given the vast number of moustache jokes (and seemingly few beard jokes). Though it cannot be denied that it truly is a community, with undoubted claim to a culture. There are the hardships of growing our first, the resilience of the first week past the "studly shadow" through the "teenage lookalike" into the majesty of the "Tom Selleck" or the "King of Diamonds", the "Freddy Mercury" or "Hulk Hogan" and all the unnamed hair-bars in between. These hardships bring these men together in a ridiculous looking yet studly bond. We are, you could say, waxed together into a community of the upper (lip) crust. My advice to people new to or looking to join this illustrious club has always been 'commitment'. If you commit to the 'stache, the 'stache will commit to you.

There are most certainly communities of men that are closely tied with the sporting of the lip warmer (policemen, firemen, lounge singers, upper lip wax 'before' models), and I would say I fall on the fringe of one of these: the academics/jobless. I say fringe because these are traditionally (for the men) bearded populations, and there is that gentle animosity/healthy competition between them. Nonetheless it does put me in a solid position to take part in Movember without being told that I am being disrespectful (to aesthetics), am too unkempt (to work) or merely gross (from the hairless perspective), but rather that I am in a community that supports me in my (upper lip's) endeavour (to shame the rest of my face). So too, I will say to my other Mo'Bros: Grow on!

'An awesomely hirsute singer, singing about handlebars' song of the day: Bicycle - Queen

Me, MySpace and i(Tunes), Web 2.0 and You(Tube)

(C-Day minus 1, 4 edits, revisions and defence) Given that my thesis is on matters technological it requires that I keep up to date on the comings and goings of the web. As I say in my thesis though, the web now moves more and more quickly. Remember back in the (virtual) day when an internet meme (a unit of cultural information) would be funny and prominent for months? Star Wars Kid, Jackass antics, Chuck Norris. Now, a joke on the internet ceases to be funny 3 seconds after you read it. Lolcatz (?), dramatic chipmunk (?) and I am sure there are numerous other anthropomorphic animals with feelings/emotions/sitcoms and somebody to tape them. In fact, I think these memes passed through so quickly they ceased to be funny before they were even viewed. So what, the cats are English preteens? I don't get it.

In any event, I try to stay on top of the Social Web/social networking sites that crop up, as these at least last long enough to sign up (8 seconds). I blog (naturally. I MySpaced for a short time i.e. I listened to music on their site instead of my iTunes. Easy to see why that one didn't last. I Twittered for a short time. I'm followable, but I wouldn't recommend it (that was less than 140 characters). I even have a Del.icio.us account (to share bookmarks), but a) there was no one I knew to share with, and b) what bookmarks am I going to share? Del.icio.us? MySpace? I think people know about these sites, not exactly adding to the community there. Who bookmarks anymore anyways with predictive-text address bars? But I digress...

So my supervisor asked me to help him sketch out the options (and their respective benefits and detriments) for a Web 2.0 presence for his course program. Thankfully (because he is my supervisor and could crush me) I managed to provide a pretty solid answer to his query. While I am thrilled to be able to provide advice to my supervisor I think it was more satisfying to know that I had at last found an outlet for all of the knowledge I have accrued through this whole process that is not the thesis itself. Because, given the ego-fulfilling prophecy (see Glossary), it is unlikely that anyone will even read that. Hello practical application to GWW (see Glossary)! ...But what is 'practical' other than the antonym of 'useless', therefore...well you see where this is going. Told you I was good at rationalizing, though it is a bit of a stretch to claim usefulness for the thesis.

Re-reading this blog post, I think there will be 3 types of readers. 1. Tech savvy young people who think it is funny because they can relate. 2. Tech savvy people who don't think it is funny, because...well because they don't think it is funny. and 3. the non-tech savvy, who don't get it. "What's a Lolcat? Who's a Star Wars Kid? I remember when Chuck Norris was a movie star not an internet meme"

'Could be encouraging, could be prescriptive' song of the day: Use It - The New Pornographers

The Worst Friend Ever

(C Day minus 1,3,4 edits, revisions and defence)I have a companion who only has bad things to say. I have so seldom heard anything good, that I am beginning to believe it not possible. This companion, mere intimate decimetres from my sleeping head (often full metres on a bad morning) is the alarm clock: the perpetual bearer of bad news.

Having moved from an East-facing bedroom into a North-facing bedroom I have lost the luxury of being woken up by the rising sun. It was a romantic lifestyle, using the curtain to estimate my morning rise, waking lazily and slowly into full awareness. Not that it didn't have it's problems; a summer morning wake up was also accompanied by the light's BFF, the heat. But for the most part, it was enjoyable and lovely. I have, since the move, had to rely on the obnoxious yelp of that square box of pain (Little House on the Pain-rie?). Every morning that I have to work, my morning starts with bad news: it's time to get up. If I had wanted to get up, if I felt I was ready to get up, I would have done so myself. I am instead jarred out of my slumber by the naive child that believes that the world should rise and fall with their schedule. This isn't even the only reason I dislike my little "friend."

Thesis writing has put me in an odd relationship with time. There is never a good time. I'll get home around 5, and by the time I have wound down and am ready to work, it is 7...already?! Open the documents, track down a citation and reword a sentence...9?!?! Couldn't be! Even if I am productive, time seems unwelcome. I could edit a whole chapter, rework the most troubling of passages, update my bibliography AND have come to a profound conclusion about my thesis or my life, but if only 10 minutes have passed (I said 'could' not 'did') I am still left with the "It's only been 10 minutes?! I should work for another 50 at the very least before I quit for the night!" Is there ever a time that is welcome? Well, maybe 7:30. Time for Jeopardy!

'This is a patent lie' song of the day: Time is On My Side - Rolling Stones

Though if you have seen the movie 'Fallen', it is the serial killer/spirit that sings the song, in that regard, it makes more sense. Just imagine my thesis singing this song. It'll wait me out if I don't beat it first.

This Week on Thesis-Drama Theatre...

(Completion Day minus peer editing, revisions, defence) Today marks the day of my glorious return to form. My form being not just the mindspace of writing in this blog, but also that of someone who is in the final throes of their Master's Thesis. The key to my progress? Staying away from blogging. That is correct, like a TV sitcom or Soap dealing with a pregnant or salary-greedy primadonna actor/actress, I am poorly explaining away an awkward and misunderstood absence. The important part however, is that I am back!

Update: The thesis trucks along, slowly if not surely. My first draft is complete, and aside from peer editing (and subsequent revisions) it will be ready to go to the supervisor soon (relatively speaking of course) - grain of salt in hand. This is both exciting and nerve wracking. Mostly because the supervisor has not read the thesis or heard specifics of it since....well since I last wrote a post for this blog (that's a year for anyone counting). But nonetheless exciting to be further along in the process.

The peer editing has been interesting if only because of the process of selection. Years in an MA program, cavorting with PhDs, academics and just plain ole smart people has left me a veritable fleet of people who like me enough to offer their services. Selection then comes down to who I think has the time (some people offer, but given their own academic or occupational demands, it would be absurd to ask them), who has the expertise, and who has the ability to deliver bad news. It's not that I am expecting bad news from my editors, it's just a precaution, as confidence in the project can waver like the favour of a disinterested prof. It is thus important to pick people who will honestly tell you that it blows, but precisely not in those words.

Just a quick post to start folks, but let it be known, I'M BACK!...and here to stay.

'Marking my return' song of the day: Back in the Saddle Again - Aerosmith
and,
'For any endearing fans' song for the past year: All Apologies - Nirvana

Playlisting Sociology

(Day a Googol) I am, among other things, currently involved in putting together a reading list for a newly revamped Sociology100 course. As a course that covers a range of sociological topic, you get a fair sampling of each of the major themes of sociology (i.e. economy, culture, gender, race, etc). The benefit of a course like this is, of course, that you get a little bit of everything; you see a larger part of the puzzle. The detriment of this type of course is that you think you know a lot about a lot of things, when in fact you know a little about very little...although some of my students have proven they know nothing about everything.

The reading list for a course of this nature must be as high impact in each area as possible. Each article/chapter must be the seminal work in its area. Sometimes it is hard to make the decision between one or the other. It is in this way that I sort of had to look at putting this reading list together as a playlist. It needs good flow; ideally you want each work to build on the next. It is nice to include something familiar, something that they might have heard of before. Thinking of the work in this way made the whole process go so much quicker. Once you have a theme and a start, it all just comes right together.

What is something about a playlist that doesn't come right together? Answer: a thesis! haha. Funny sad, and very true. I have been avoiding my thesis like the Canadians avoid majority governments. This is not totally true though, I am reading and thinking about the thesis. The thinking is a big part, I have an idea of how I am going to do what needs to be done and what it will require of me. The trouble of course, is providing what is needed between life, job, athletics, and sleep. It will come though, in time.

The 'you must be a truly devoted fan to be reading this' song of the day: Patience - Guns N Roses (who have a new album coming out soon I hear. crazy?!)

Google Turns to Goggles When You Type it Too Many Times

(Day 1 billion) So there is much news (i.e. excuses as to why I have not updated the blog). Firstly, I have a new job as a government mule. The basic breakdown of my day/job consists of me on Google for hours. Google this, google that, lunch, google these, google those, home. The government spends big bucks on academic databases and fancy referencing tools and all I like to use is Google. All in all not a terrible way to spend a paid day, and I even sneak in a game or two of foosball too.

I've also agreed to do a speaking engagement for a local hgh school. The downer is that in the negotiation of this, I have ventured further and further from the original topic. In trying to turn my project into something that 15 year olds can digest it has lost a lot of its edge.... and body. But if I remember the high school cast of characters correctly all I need to do is put together an awesome PowerPoint slide show and they will be happy/not all angsty and stuff.

Finally, I have also joined up at the local letter-named-fitness facility. Gonna pump some iron and rock the delts! ... A joke that goes over a lot better offline, when you can see that I would never "rock my delts." What they do have that I am interested in is a pool and a gymnasium. The pool is no big deal other than the fact that it is right behind my government mule feeding trough, which is nice. But the gymnasium is nice because it hosts pick-up volleyball of a surprisingly high calibre. Frankly, it is always surprising when there is decent volleyball to be had, but that is a story for another blog.

So there is the life wrap up: job, speech, gym. Notice how thesis wasn't in the top three? Wonder why? It's because I am not working on it! Combination of severe writer's block, lack of a positive number in the time/energy quotient, and just plain not wanting to until things settle in a bit....you know, after I adequetly rock my delts.

In celebration of a new exciting job song of the day: Getupgotoworkgohomegotobed - Rat Silo

Also: a long overdue congratulations on the successful defences of two highly intelligent, superiorly well written theses on the parts of Mr. Tab A and Ms. DoGooder, fellow members of my cohort, and new members of PhD programs in the area. I tip my hat to you both.

Things I Learned From Tetris

(Day 477ish) A thesis is such a huge all-encompassing project, that it is often nice to sneak in non-thesis activities in order to keep the mind from going to mush. Sometimes this means reading a non-academic book before bed, enjoying an old movie once in awhile or, in the case of two people I know (myself being one of them), Tetris on the old school Nintendo system. Now some might see this as a complete waste of time, while others use this as an opportunity to see thesis-thoughts seeping into other aspects of their lives. I give you as an example: Things I learned about my thesis from Tetris.

Don't Panic: The first rule of Tetris, and thus thesising, is not to panic. In this case you are your own worst enemy. Doing a thesis gives you plenty of opportunity to panic. I don't have the right books, I can't get out of this writing slump, I hate my committee, and so on for a million other mini-meltdowns. But as in Tetris, if you make a mistake and panic, it only goes downhill, but quick. Throughout the whole process you have to keep your head on straight, it is after all just a stupid video-game/stack of your own writing.

Plan Ahead: When you are stacking odd shaped tetrominoes in a puzzle-like fashion, you have to plan ahead and not leave gaps that you can't fill. Consider what your next move is when making your current move. In thesising it is the same. You have to organize your work and plan what you are going to argue before arguing your next point. Thesising is all about organization. If, however, for whatever reason, you fail to plan ahead, see previous tip.

If You Screw It Up, Start Over: Ummm, this is probably not good advice.

If You Get Bored, Play a New Game: Well I guess this one brings us back to Tetris. Or if you are playing Tetris, back to the thesis.

Alright, so maybe there aren't many real lessons to be learned from Tetris, but I do still have one skill that is sharp: rationalization. If I can rationalize good reasons to play Tetris, what can't I do?

The tetrominous song of the day (and lesson not to be learned from Tetris): Square One - Tom Petty

Abstract: Another Adjective for My Thesis Work

(Day 466...or so) The craziness of the summer is almost over (does that mean I will update more often?), and the monotony of the school year has almost begun. This means that work begins, thesising must get moving, and also the applications for conferences, journals and other schools commence as well. Of all those things, the conferences are the only one of those potentials of which I am currently capable. In order to apply for conferences, you must provide an abstract for your work. Now, the abstract (short summary of the paper) is normally meant to summarize the paper, but as I am unwilling to write the paper until I have been accepted to a conference, it actually ends up being a summary of what I think/would like/hopefully will do. Professional rampant but simultaneously frowned on.

Another issue with abstracts is that they are limited to 200-300 words (sometimes as low as 150), and sometimes accompanied with a 30 word summary as well. Usually this is no problem at all, as I tend more towards brevity and succinct writing anyways. Since engaging in thesis writing, which tends to be very wordy and lengthy, it has been quite a bit of trouble reverting back. 200 words does not let you say much at all, but you can work with it. 30 words is a sentence! Just one! I am used to having to summarize my work for every passerby who knows that I am doing an MA, but to write it out into one sentence is quite the daunting task. I am not even sure I could summarize this blog in one sentence. "An oft-neglected collection of thoughts, ponderings and ruminations on the ridiculousness of academic life for one young music lover." Hmm, well that isn't half bad, if only I could use that for my summary. If only I had thought to write my thesis on the experience of writing a thesis, then I would already be done, and that would still be my summary. Hello PhD idea!

I can't believe I found a relevant song of the day: "Musically Inclined" by Abstract Tribe Unique

Wouldn't a Caveman's Writer's Block Be the Thing He Writes On?

(Day 119?) Wow, we are really getting up there in dates. So high in fact that I am not even sure if I did that math correctly. I have been struck with a mean case of writer's block. Having been outwitted by my own logic, this blog has not helped me write when I am stumped, as writer's block has struck me here too. For my birthday just passed, I wished for a complete, well written thesis on my topic area, delivered in a timely manner. However, most of the people I know are also working on theses, so they thought this an unreasonable request given my unwillingness to write their theses. Oh well.

This writer's block has forced me into changing up my methods. I have to force this Greatest Writing Work (GWW) through whether it likes it or not. I was fond of my previous methods (wait in the sun for inspiration) but it was not the most time-responsible method. My new method (do-it until it gets done) is starting to work I think. I have printed off all of my written pages and my themes in attempt to look at this problem (thesis writing) old-school (or Old Skool). I was prepared to be pleased with myself for writing an entire thesis on technology, technologically. People complain of their eyes hurting from staring at a screen for so long, or inability to maintain organization on their computer, issues that I have overcome, only to be struck by writer's block, the oldest, least technological writing problem since ancient man started writing on walls.

A pencil and a stack of papers in hand, I can at least do some of my work outside, although realistically, the closest it sees to outside is the bus, as that is still a favourite place of mine to do work. See here for the story. And speaking of throwbacks to past writing, I was presented with an off the cuff use of one of the words I coined in the Reed Glossary. In pining about some trouble I was having, and whether it would affect the readability (Reedability, hahah - lame joke, but to me, at this point, very funny) of my thesis. In response to this, I was asked if my plight was not frought with an 'ego-fulfilling prophecy' or the misguided thought that my thesis would actually be read. See glossary here. Hoisted by my own petard, eh. I guess that is what happens when you put this stuff publicly online.

Maybe I could submit this song instead of a thesis song of the day: You, Me & the Bourgeoise - The Submarines

Does Chicoutimi Know They are Luscious?

(Day 95) I know, I know, posts have been further and further apart. That must mean I am too busy working, right? Hahah. Almost. Errands. Things come up. In any event, I have been entertaining cousin M as a guest for the last little while, and sadly had to see him go today. I drove him to the ferry terminal up island so that he could enjoy some more of what this province has to offer. What it clearly does not have to offer is students hard at work.

The drive from Victoria to Nanaimo is full of many wonderful places that I would never like to visit (again). They are, however, in name, quite interesting. My sister-in-law S uses the concept luscious words in her English classes (these are words that are enjoyable to say, ones that rrrrrolll off your tongue). The drive up island has many of my favourite luscious words. There is Chemainus, Cowichan, Nanaimo, and even Qualicum is fun to say too. Although, I think Nanaimo's inclusion is more because I enjoy saying it incorrectly. Nanimoo. Nanaimu. Noonama. After having several encounters with Nanimooers, this practice will not change. That's what you get Nonamu.

What's perhaps odd is that most of my other favourite luscious words are also place names. I would love to live in a city that had a luscious name. Chicoutimi. Shawinigan. Coquitlam. Quilchena. Just kidding. I would never live in any of those places...well maybe Chicoutimi. Maybe Jean Chretien's poor speech pattern came from speaking his town name too many times. "The city I am from is Shawinigan. Shawinigan is da city I am from. I love ma' 'ometown a' Shawinigan. 'Et's a go da Shawinigan. Wa-wa-wa-wa...wa-wa Shawinigan." Hahah. That's the road I am heading down. Wa-wa-wa Chicoutimi. Wa-wa-wa, wa-wa this blog.

The 'wa-wa- song of the wa-wa- day': Voodoo Chile (Slight Return) Jimi Hendrix

What is an Awesome Blog, Alex?

(Day 87) One of my great daily joys is watching Jeopardy! each night. It keeps the mind sharp, makes you think on your feet and provides endless amounts of interesting trivia. As well, it is always interesting to hear the stories that the contestants have - not because they are interesting or funny, but rather because they are precisely not that, they are ridiculous and boring. Yesterday, the one guy's story was that he was the first in his family to get on Jeopardy! His Jeopardy! story was that he got on Jeopardy! Ridiculous.

A tradition I have had for some time now, is to guess the Final Jeopardy! question, before the answer comes up. They will give you the category, for example: Mythology. You then have the length of the commercial break to make your guess (when the contestants are making their bid). Then we get to see the answer and find out whether our question was correct. We are of course free to guess again, but the real fun is in how close you are to being right with no information other than the category. In all my time of doing this, I have guessed right twice - big victories. I felt like a champ. Since moving in with my current roommate, he has also guessed correctly twice - a far better average of correct answers. Presently, I have my cousin M staying with me, and we of course introduced him to the game. In three days, he has guessed two corrctly!!! That is a 0.66 average of correct guesses. This is unheard of. It isn't even like they were easy categories to guess from, the field was wide open. In any event, I am very anxious to see how his average ends up at the end of this week. Ok Alex here is one for you: The only other explanation for such an incredible response rate aside from awesome luck. What is re-runs Alex?

'The game show' song of the day: Call and Answer - Barenaked Ladies

p.s. if the game we play sounded confusing, it is probably due to the question and answers. In Jeopardy, you may recall, you are given the answer and must come up with the question. See if that helps.

I've Got Sunshine

(Day 82) With a solid reception at Congress for my work, an uplifting meeting with my supervisor, and a tonne of books I am actually excited to read, you would think I would be just rarin' to go. This is incorrect....well partially incorrect. I am in fact rarin' to go, BUT, it is the first day of summer! If it is not already, it should be declared 'Official No-Writing Day' or 'No-Working Day' for those outside of the Ivory Bubble.

A beautiful day in Victoria is just that...a beautiful thing. I would be hard pressed to be pressured into doing work on this day. So I will instead take the day off and return my mind to a state of peace through meditation (read: intake of sunlight). To make the transition from this state of rest into work a little easier for myself, I have moved a couch onto the balcony. Now I can achieve the extreme state of relaxation I have become accustomed to while being outside also. This spells good things for my writing process. The sun inspires good things in me. Not to cut this short, but I am going to go play outside now.

The 'how much do you love the outdoors' song of the day": Who Loves the Sun - Velvet Underground

The Mental Energy-Time Conservation Co-Efficient

(Day 77) There is a balance to be had in a graduate student's career between reading and writing. Reading is of course necessary for informing our theses, and writing is necessary to get out of our respective institutions degree in hand. Too much reading and the process takes a lifetime, but too much writing results in a theoretically unsound account that is too long to boot. Thus the 'mental energy- time conservation coefficient' needs to be respected if the grad student is not to turn out a professional lifetime student.

The student's reading list grows exponentially. With every decent source I find, I am drawn to their bibliography only to find ten other sources I will then want to read. Read one of those sources and they will have ten more interesting sources in their bibliography, and so on and so fourth until eventually everything leads back to Marx.

...So I started reading Marx.

That being said, I also have to keep the writing train a rollin'. If I start writing such that no one understands me, I'll know I have been reading too much Marx. It's all about that balance.

the 'I'll need one in order to read as much as I'd like' song of the day: Ghostwriter - RJD2

Field (of Dreams) of Expertise

(Day 71) An important aspect of Congress (and all other conferences) is the opportunity to network with other academics. Networking and glad-handing is what academe is all about. It is a chance to meet potential supervisors to work with in the future, fellows with whom to collaborate in writing and even just people with insights into our fields. In looking for potential supervisors, it sort of feels like I am shopping for a person. With all of the experiences the MA has left me thus far (being in a department ill-fitted to my topic first and foremost), finding a suitable future supervisor is of the utmost importance. It's like shopping for a car, or a house or a pizza when you are really hungry - it requires careful thought and consideration (mmmm mmm, well at least now I know what is for dinner tonight).

One thing you can't shop for, unfortunately, is the people who you do your degree with: the cohort. I think this is something oft overlooked, but the people in a department with you have a huge impact on the enjoyability of one's tenure. In taking courses together, discussing theory over dinners, and editing countless papers/proposals/ramblings (thanks guys!) you become (hopefully) very close. You also become very close to their thesis topics. I have, since joining the department, become a minor expert on moral panics, global citizenship, organic food systems and identification cards to name a few of 'my' new areas. Maybe if I can make the others in my cohort enough of an expert in my field, I can get them to write my thesis as well. Wishful thinking perhaps, but I can dream, right?

the 'all I have left to do is the thesis' song of the day: Gotta Get Myself Into It - The Rapture