Ninety seconds of insight

As I clear out files, I find scraps of paper; the one I have just found had this title.

It says that it is not a comment on writing or research, but on other aspects of work.

It says that the amount of time I have to spend managing other peoples’ emotions about my degrees and my expertise is untenable.

It says that there are multiple issues surrounding questions of authority: because I have the degrees I have, I am assumed to want to be authoritarian; at the same time, I am to compensate for having these oppressive degrees by not exercising the authority that is normal and even necessary for a person with my job description. I am not to do the things I know are right.

It talks about the idea that everything I know is wrong, because I am the knower and there is (allegedly) something wrong with me; the idea that things are wrong if I know them, and that it is wrong of me to know things.

#OccupyHE

Axé.

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2 Comments

Filed under News, Resources, Theories, What Is A Scholar?

2 responses to “Ninety seconds of insight

  1. This is what you sound like when you are somewhere else:

    I am now in Houston where it is beautiful and I feel almost like a whole person with full human rights. Houston is a big city and it has several good radio stations, and I feel that I am a strong flame among many others, which I really like.

    Coming out of the metro station into your neighborhood you will see the sky glow pink behind the old buildings and then the signs of the actual sun in a red splash, and walk home along near empty streets in fresh air carrying the faint smell of mondongo, cilantro, and atole wafting from the stands.

    There are many traditional Spanish cafés, and strolling is done very slowly. I went to art galleries and a concert of choral music, including a Carnaval song from Arequipa with mestizo tones. I ate a fancier lunch than usual, consisting of three courses and costing three whole dollars. It involved the usual chicken, potato and pasta soup, camote huancaína with raw shrimp (I do not really like camote or raw shrimp, although one could see these were excellent shrimp, but the huancaína sauce was first rate), pescado a lo macho (the pescado was not the best, but the shrimp, cooked this time but still in their shells, and the sauce were again first rate), and chicha morada. I drank fancy coffee costing almost a dollar. As I walked home through the colonial buildings, now lit up with retro lanterns, I actually saw a tuna.

    Today on this Patagonian isle it stopped raining long enough for a hike in the stunning national park, ending on a wild beach with grassy dunes.

    I also discovered a very hip bar with wi-fi, of all things, and I am there now. This enables me to write, over a fast connection, on the very same computer I use at home. It is a rather surreal displacement. I am drinking espresso, but I may drink wine and eat fish. I could drink a pisco sour.

    All of these options, in addition to wi-fi, a wood stove, and several non-rainy hours in the middle of the day, add up to extreme luxury. And partaking of these luxuries is, of course, a form of singing. The music in this bar is: alternative.

    • Z

      I am very impressed that you compiled all of this, DEH!

      Of course, in all of those situations I am traveling. But still.

      Today it seems that at least one of my colleagues has an offer he is taking. Another has a campus interview and a third has got something, we are not sure what.

      I seem to feel really different when I ignore the influence of the chair. Someone said to imagine all these people as physically smaller than they are.

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