July 7, 2006, at 2:30 in the afternoon. 316 Bartlett Hall.
(Click on the image for a bigger version.)
And yes, that would be me in the stainless-steel boob-cups.
So yeah, it’s a wig. Big deal. I mean, you know me, right? You know I’m bald. Can I be not embarassed now and just admit that, you know, sometimes I like to have hair?
My Date
The last day of class? Related to the dis? I’m obtuse.
But I’d love to have a pair of those iron-clad boob protectors.
The diss. And I’m thinking of wearing that iron-clad protection to the defense. With, you know, the wig.
On July 7 at 2:30 in the afternoon.
So I’m already thinking about inspirational music. Songs I might put on that morning. The Clash, “Death or Glory.” Rihanna, “Pon de Replay.” Gogol Bordello, “Underdog World Strike.” Drivin N Cryin, “Fly Me Courageous.” Joan Jett and the Runaways, “Cherry Bomb.” Ram Jam, “Black Betty.” Patti Smith’s venomous take on “My Generation.” Survivor, “Eye of the Tiger.” PJ Harvey, “Dress.” Bad Brains, “I Against I.” Sheryl Crow, “Steve McQueen.” Rammstein, “Feuer Frei.”
But beyond all that, nothing quite does it for me like hearing Bernstein’s take on Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue” played loud enough to rattle the windows and shake the floor.
Suggestions?
Got it. 7/7, 2:30, I’ll be thinking of you and wishing you luck.
Man, I’m thinking the other direction entirely. Maybe it’s because my floors shake too often without my wanting it to happen, but when I’m readying myself for anything, I’m into the mellow. I’m usually so wound up that I have to key down.
150 things not to do…
Wig or no wig, I’m sure you’ll knock ’em dead. Just remember to visualize them all in their underwear if you get nervous.
(Oh, wait. That never worked for me. Never mind…)
Best of luck!
Oh. My. God. I love the comic book. I want one! I want one! And you know that big green hand coming out from the bottom right belongs to your diss. director. ha!
Knock ’em dead.
“Fly Me Courageous” is a GREAT choice. I would also recommend “Roxie” from the Chicago soundtrack. Sing along with these parts:
The name on everybody’s lips
Is gonna be Roxie
The lady raking in the chips
Is gonna be Roxie
I’m gonna be a celebrity
That means
Somebody everyone knows
They(‘re) gonna recognize my eyes
My hair my teeth my boobs my nose
[. . .]
Mmmm, I’m a star!
And the audience loves me!
And I love them
And they love me for loving them
And I love them for loving me
And we love each other
And that’s because none of us
Got enough love in our childhoods
And that’s showbiz
Kid
Ha! Love it. Check out this snip from Chapter 3:
And Dorothea, #4 had crossed my mind, as is likely evidenced by the fact that Doctor Strange is — yes — vogueing.
Love those dainty slippers. Such a contrast to your boots!
Have fun. If the thesis defence is like that at some other insitutions, it’s like a conversation between you, the writer, researcher, theorist, and other writer-researchers-scholars. And as conversations go, their questions are likely to be leading. Oh yeah, a defender at a defense sometimes judiciously declines to be baited. Graceful concession is also part of the conversation. But institutional mores vary. Your most difficult question: how is a thesis defense an act of investment as well as pure expenditure? by whom? when? I suspect your committee is looking forward to the enjoyable moment. Dr. Mike. Sounds nice, eh?!!
Also, I like that: The Defender. I believe I’ll feel more like the defendant at mine. 🙁
Mike, as I see it, the goal of what I shall for a lack of better terminology call the dissertation attack committee is to see how far they can push you until you crack.
Their motives are not sadistic or cruel. They know that they will be able to come up with a question that will stump you. You know that they will be able to come up with a question that will stump you. Assume that moment will come; and if it does, react with grace.
For my dissertation (which was about 20th C drama), my stumper was a question about 19thC poetry. I couldn’t comment with any particularity on Blanche DuBois’s reference to Edgar Allen Poe in A Streetcar Named Desire, even though I had quoted her Poe line and I had made a relatively big deal out of how her literary knowledge contrasts with Stanley’s network of male friends.
I said something like, “I could take a stab at that if you want me to, but I’d feel more comfortable looking it up.”
At that, the committee members sat back, smiling, and clicked their pens shut; I knew that they were finished.
Of course I was nervous as I waited in the hall outside, but I knew my adviser wouldn’t have let me schedule the defense if he wasn’t confident, and I figured that a dissertation defense is like the Kobayashi Maru of Star Trek — a scenario that masquerades as a puzzle to be solved, but that’s really a test of how you handle a no-win scenario.
I had a really good meeting with my outside reader today and we went over the highly specific economic analyses (she’s a political economist/economic geographer) in my Chapters 3 and 4; the way I framed it to her, I was asking her to help me make sure I’m not making any fundamental errors in those analyses. These were chapters that have already been through multiple revisions to the point of satisfying my advisor, and it was a really productive meeting, with a couple “Aha!” moments for me, the big one being that while composition as a discipline has historically favored class analysis as a way of subtly addressing economic concerns without taking responsibility for explicitly addressing them; the mode of critique in which my outside reader works deploys class analyses as a point from which to more completely figure the workings of economic concerns. Based on our conversation, I think she’ll likely call me on my claims about Henry Giroux, but I think my critique of his work as it’s played out in composition is on fairly solid ground. In any case: Dennis, it sounds like you’re making the same point about judiciously declining to be baited that Francois makes.
As far as my committee goes, I think my advisor will likely push me the hardest, but that the most flummoxing questions will come from my other departmental reader. If past experience is any indication. 🙂
Wait a minute! Aerobil is maligning me; my hand is NOT GREEN!
Not even your thumb?
I think that’s really Clancy, not you Mike. I just don’t see you as blonde as all that. Gives a whole new read to Culture Cat, don’t you think? Best of luck, though it’s long past time for luck! Knock ’em dead instead!