Fucking research papers.
There are two main reasons why I am on the writing track in
grad school. The first is I'm a bit
obsessed with writing. Duh. I'm here every day. (So are you - This must either be your
penance, or the judge made reading this part of your parole.) The second reason I took on the writing track
rather than the literature track is because I am sick and freaking tired of
writing research papers. I don't give a
rat's ass what "scholars" think of the shit I read. Look, Romeo
and Juliet is one of the funniest comedies I've ever read; anyone who
thinks it's a tragedy doesn't know shit about satire.
Yet I find myself deeply entrenched in a writing seminar
class, presumably one in which writing is the main focus, and I'm doing … tah-dah
… a research assignment. Frick. The worst part is that I have started this
paper now three times. Three. That's right.
Three. Frigging. Times.
I start out with one topic that I think is where I want to
go: voice in writing across the curriculum.
Damn, that even sounds fucking
pretentious. Then I realize the one
class we are spending discussing voice is the one class I am planning on
missing to go to a lacrosse game.
Probably ought to choose another topic.
So, I do.
I start writing about the new national curriculum, CORE, and
its evil, tax-sucking parasite PARCC.
The paper begins innocuously enough, as do most of my opinion pieces,
and quickly disintegrates into a diatribe against the raping of our
Constitution and the illegal federalization of the public school system. I get to page twelve before I abandon this
idea, well aware that I have already offended the professor and my classmates
countless times with my anti-establishment, anti-socialist rants. (Sucks like hell being a moderate working in
public education. The only thing worse
is admitting one might be a Republican.)
This brings me to paper number three. I ask myself (during one of our class
meditation exercises) -- Dear Self: What interests me? Well,
what do I do every day? I blog. I blog all the time. I have a blog, I belong to a blog, and I've
been kicked off of several blogs, including a regional TV news blog, a regional
newspaper blog, and, le coup de grace, a national television station blog of a
major network show (do NOT ask). What the hell, other than blogging, am I
interested in enough to write a research paper on and have the proposal ready
to file within a few short days?
The problem with the blog topic is that my professor is
doing some kind of ongoing blog experiment, and I I have enough targets on
my back without voluntarily adding in another one.don't want to compete with the professor.
I start thinking … all this funny shit we all share over the
Internet. Why do we do it? Where does it come from? And I realize it comes from the old oral tradition
of telling stories, passing stories around, and making ourselves and each other
laugh. We truly have turned from the
Information Age to the Age of Mutual Entertainment.
And why the hell not?
With our country in the state it's in and the world on the brink of
nuclear meltdown, why the hell shouldn't we be laughing? It's the only damn thing left on the planet
that no one has tried to tax yet.
My new research topic -
Column Writing and Humor: Focus on
the Funny. There are so many great
column writers who have been around recently (and some still around) in my
lifetime, people who write about themselves and their lives using creative
nonfiction (think "A Christmas Story" -- truth-based writing molded
into mass entertainment with a liberal dose of poetic license). They write to laugh at themselves and make us
laugh with them. Writers like David
Sedaris, Dave Barry, Erma Bombeck, Jean Shepherd, Jenny Lawson, and their kind,
who turn fresh and ironic eyes onto the otherwise bleak and mundane distraction
called life.
My essential question?
No frigging idea, and I have
until Sunday morning to figure that all out so I can post my proposal online to
be critiqued. But I figure if I have to
suffer through yet another research paper in a creative-type writing class,
then I'll suffer my way, suffer on my terms.
You see, surrender is not an option.
Even if I could opt out of the paper at this point, which I
can't but if I could, there is no way I will admit defeat. I already lost the first two skirmishes (research
paper attempts). I am not about to go
limping through a theory paper that would not only bore me to tears but would
bore my audience (the professor, who grades this).
The bad news? I have to write this paper. The good news? I
actually care about the subject matter. Which
is why I'll probably be told it's a crappy topic and a mediocre paper. But I don't care. Remember, people, I never wanted to write
another research paper as long as I live.
I made that perfectly clear when I jumped ship for the Lit major. Clearly the professors have no one to blame
but themselves.
And, yes, it is
time for my meds. (Wink, wink, nudge,
nudge, ya know what I mean?)
