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Wednesday, 3 November 2010

Split me a new one

Hello no-one as yet and the obliged,

I am not going to lie, the week has been disappointing. With three days and 5 hours to go on the outfit, it seems that no-one is buying.

If you like, we can extend the metaphor on that.

UEA is unremittingly demanding in its expectation of rigorous academic theory and ability to perform. Mondays mean the fabled Breakfast Club, which is much more impassioned and bombastic arguments concerning critical theory and poetics, held at a level of academic discourse I cannot hope to achieve, and much less Molly Ringwald gyrating wildly in through and about the montage form, blissfully oblivious to a world that neither understands nor appreciates her potent adolescent sexuality.**

It is academia's loss.
I am finding it difficult to situate myself in the context of phd Breakfast-based discourse and it goes without saying there are no donuts.

I did a presentation on my quest to become the most famous writer in England & Its Associated Isles and I hope I'm not incorrect in stating that the reception the project received was somewhat chilly. I tried, oh faithful, non-existent readership to dramatise my concerns in the form of a filmed review of 'The Social Network' in which I enlisted my undisputed mastery of Final Cut Express to talk about the failure of the movie in tone, form and execution.

Appropriate to the project is the film's refusal to function after countless hours of uploading. I will let it stand here as a memorial slab to excessive ambition and general desperate sparkle shirley sparkle!-based discourse.
EDIT: link now functioning. Click click and click away.

The Epic Fail is a notion very dear to me. I consider this blog a failure. I know you do too. Don't lie to me I can't even monetise my underwear, which is something that any decent Japanese student can do, and at a pre-undergraduate level.

I am going to have to rethink everything. Soon enough the traffic will arrive from the UEA website and I must show the people the full force of my power.

Verily Walter Benjamin and his Arcades and his theory of mirrors was thrown at me like so much wet spaghetti. I will be forever grateful however as it brought me to this majestic little site,
which was made in 2007 and is blissfully redolent of 1999. Authored by the gloriously monikered Heather Marcelle Crickenberg, it's a study in hypertexts of Benjamin's Arcades Project.

Keeping to the immediate surface as is my custom, the site design is largely: Chrome (not the browser, the virtual brush of metal) purple, repeated Pinky & The Brain wallpaper motifs.

It's like my teen psyche regurgitated online with an developed interest in aesthetic theory.

I can't help but think if I get Heather Marcelle Crickenberger on side, everything will be fine. I can't help but feel we are one. Heather Marcelle Crickenberger, you will be mine.

It will be earnt.

**If 'potent adolescent sex' doesn't slide me on up the Google rankings, I don't have any faith in a higher deity or adwords.


alice emma said...

I think you were greedy, my dear. My not 5 days worth of outfits for £80 each? If you didnt sell you could pro rata the conference and promise not to pay attention. Or not to eat the fruit (they always have fruit).
Thanks for the Benjamin link.
And can you make it happen that your links open in new tabs or windows? Thats very important to me.
So if you could just get on that. Thanks.