how to be an english major: part three.

how to be an english major: part three.

(Alright, before you read this, catch up on Part 1 and Part 2. Or don't, I don't care. Actually, unless you're a fan of character development, don't read Part 1 before reading this. Or do. Again, I don't care.) This is something I learned way too late in the game (like the night before my final essay was due in the second year of my English degree late in the game). If you read Part 1, you'll know that the only reason I'm an English Major is because it's easy (oh, SPOILER ALERT. But really, you should've read Part 1 already). Or, at least that was the reason I'm an English Major. Two days ago, at nine o'clock at night in the library on campus (where I hang out now. Weird, right?), I figured out what I was missing this whole time.

Ladies, Gentlemen, and sexually ambiguous rat people that read this blog post even though internet is scarce in the damp cave in which you dwell (thank you by the way), I've figured out the secret to being an English Major: get excited.


That's right, my problem all these months is that I wasn't excited enough (as exemplified in probably the most depressing thing on this blog, save the fact that I'm just talking to myself all over this site). But two days ago, I found this book. No, it wasn't Teach Like a Pirate, that's whole other sorts of awesome. Actually, let's give some exposition.

Stardate: April 8th, 2014. Approx. 9:27pm Location: Taylor Family Digital Library, Floor 2 It was crunch time; everything had led up to this moment. The essay was due tomorrow at 3:30 sharp. I had eighteen hours to write two-thousand words of gleaming literary shit. I had my prompt, my thesis, and the literary work I was to write on: Virginia Woolf's The Mark on the Wall. It was perfect, Woolf's relentless dribble was prime for replication as I began to steady myself for the torrent of bullshit about to seize control of my fingers over this keyboard. The only thing left was the all important "at least one critical (or theoretical) work." My fingers redefined haste as they flitted over the keyboard, going to the library's database and finding anything that at least shoddily resembled the amalgamation of thought that I had called a thesis. Paper after paper, report after report flicked past my eyes. People's thoughts, ideas, beliefs, their life work felt the cold wrath of my finger, as I closed their window, judging their worth from only a crumb of the feast of knowledge they had to offer. But then, I tasted it. A crumb so delectable that I just had to try more."

The paper that I had found was a critical review of a book called "Virginia Woolf and the Study of Nature", just like some shitty Harry Potter knockoff. I was quick to learn that it wasn't shitty at all (or that it was doubly so, as it had nothing to do with any sort of wizarding school). I dug through more reviews and critiques of this glowing beacon of hope penned by one Christina Alt until I found a digital copy of the book. Yes, I downloaded it. I like it enough to write a blog post (not to forget the essay) about it, but I'm still to stingy to shovel a hundred bucks Cambridge's way to pay for the damn thing. Christina Alt, if you're reading this: "oh come on, you're better than this. Also, sorry I didn't pay for your book."

But, this is exactly what got me excited. Now, I don't expect you to read the whole book, or even part of the book, or even click the link that I put in the title of the book. Instead, I will explain what got me going about this book: science.

Er... I mean: SCIENCE! XDDDD

Yes, as you can tell (either by my last blog post, or by the fact that I was in physics before No Child Left Behind left me behind (oh, grow up Aqil)) I'm a huge fan of science. I mean fan as in: I enjoy it, but do not participate and make no contribution to its advancement, like football fans. The reason I got into science in the first place (or at least tried to) is because science provides an objectivity that's hard to come by nowadays. I love learning things from scientific fields because science makes the world go 'round (although "gravity" is just a theory).

Anywho, this book isn't just about science. It's about how much Virginia Woolf likes science (SPOILER: a lot) and how much the change in the scientific process at the time was reflected in her writing (SPOILER: a lot) and it's that ethological literary science that really made this thing called modernism. I know what you're thinking: Snorefest 2014. But this shit is fucking interesting. Seriously, read some of the review of this book (or the whole book, if you have 241 pages and half my paycheck to spare). The simple idea that Woolf is writing about science while writing about history and is reflecting a revolution in thought just by having Wall Mark's protagonist sit in a chair the entire goddamned time. The more I explain it, the more boring it sounds.

Here, let me try again: The shift to modernism in writing directly reflects the shift to the laboratory in science.

That's right. Virginia Woolf summarized the entirety of the modern scientific standard in a page and a half about a fucking snail! (oh, SPOILERS: it was a snail the whole damn time). Now, obviously if you don't like the stuff I like, then you don't care about anything I've written so far, and you're a pushover for reading this far into something you don't care about. But I'm pretty sure there's a point here. Something about getting excited.


That's right. This book got me excited (finally) about being an English Major. It got me so excited that I walked into class the next day with a big, huge, shit-eating grin on my face and got into a long-winded conversation with my TA (don't worry, she was the cool one. I'm not some sort of nerd). And I'm still excited about it now, while I procrastinate writing that same essay (don't worry, I got a very euphoric extension).

Yeah, it's my last essay. Maybe it's too little, too late (I still need to get excited about my other classes). But hey, it counts for something. This is the first time in a long time that I've been excited about something for school. And that in itself is exciting (it's like some sort of excited ouroboros of giddiness).

And that's the important part. Yeah, school sucks, work sucks, people suck. But, if you can find one thing, however small, to get excited about. Fucking do it. Take that one thing and run with it. It'll make the rest of everything suck just a little bit less. Yeah, I suck at my other classes (I still know no Arabic), but that just makes this one essay (an essay of all things) like Disneyland. Maybe, when I can get excited about other stuff, everything can be Disneyland, and stuff like this can be Disney World. And then eventually, everything can be Disney World.

Long story short, I can't wait for my parents to move back to Orlando, so I can go to Disney World, like all the time. Maybe I could work there. (Side note: as soon as I typed that last sentence, the Indian Music stopped and I'm listening to Tarzan now).

procrastination: video.

smart people in the age of stupid.

smart people in the age of stupid.