...and I didn't need tweets to get here.
I do my scholarship the old fashioned way: getting my name on papers that other people write!
And today, I give a fuck about teaching my one-credit senior seminar instead of the huge intro class. See, I do care about students, just not those students.
And today, instead of finishing my conference paper, I'm going to teach the 66% of students likely to show up today (had a bunch of absences last week, estimating same for today since it's the only class I'm holding before I leave). Because I care. And because I don't want to have to answer 25 "What are we supposed to do?" emails that will come in if I just cancel class and post the assignment on the LMS.
The end of days thing looks ominous....
This meme represents (almost) everything wrong with higher ed.
I am eager to discover the nature of the confession. I hope it's not that the blog is closing again. I can't take heartbreak like that.
The RGMs are all associate deans who get bonuses for cutting faculty lines.
The confession is worthy of a caption competition, or some other way of listing what we think will be confessed.Could it be:The RGM has sold our e-mail addresses to Scientologists?CM will have its own ISSN, and everything we post is a peer-reviewed article?The blog is closing again?Yaro isn't real?We woke up and it had all been a dream?
Yaro is the only thing that's real.The RGM is a sock puppet of a certain fellow.We're subjects in a scientific experiment.Everyone on this blog are BFFs and drink wine together and teach the fuck out of Victorian novels. (Screw subject verb agreement)
There is no duck. (But I have occasionally wondered whether we're subjects in some sort of long-running behavioral experiment. It might be hard to publish, however, since I don't remember providing any sort of consent. Maybe that's not necessary when the whole thing takes place in a public space where participation is entirely voluntary?).
I was going to suggest that the RGM is going to confess that s/he is a doctoral candidate collecting data (and the reboot is the 2nd phase of data collection).
So that's why Victorian novels have no fucking.P.S. Three Sigma rocks.
Oh it's there. You just have to pay attention to what goes on between the sheets (pages).
OFF-TOPIC:If any of my professors had been as hot as the guy up in that picture, I would have totally flunked out from the massive distraction of my crush.*sigh*
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.