...the laundry is drying, I still have coffee in my cup, and only three student essays in the queue for this morning.
I have a couple things I'd wanted to talk about, and of course haven't because Time! and Time! and Hey, if I have time, why aren't I doing X instead? Maybe the solution is shorter posts, less comprehensive and polished, and also more frequent. Maybe I should just get on with it already.
I was proud of myself this morning. I walked away from an e-conflict about "kids these days" and grammar. This particular e-list is populated by self-styled writers, most of whom are not really that serious. I've gotten into it with some of the listmembers before. They were bewailing the evolution of language, the shifts in word use, blah blah blah. I got jumped for offering a possible explanation for one of their grievances (the rise in the use of 'learner' as a synonym for student). Why, they demanded, did my profession think they needed to shove its jargon down everyone's throats?
My profession. Hm. The professional adjunct? The professionally underpaid and exploited? We're doing what? This time, although the whining began with grammar, it ended up sneering at internet research (books! only books!) and kids these days being so X or Y, and oh, the precious language!
If I had more time, I'd write a response in Middle English, complaining about the proliferation of apostrophes and the imposition of spelling rules, but I am not as clever as the Chaucer blogger and besides, I am sure the point would be lost. I think my time would be better spent unsubscribing from the list altogether. This may be the only time in recent memory that Facebook counts as a better means of long-term communication, since I will actually post there, and I have learned to keep my mouth freakin' shut on that e-list.
I'm still ruminating about Amanda Palmer's TED talk and the implications thereof for other types of artists. I'm still wondering if there is any point at all in trying the trad publishing route, when it's so...arbitrary. I'm wondering if I need to stop gripping and practice a little nonattachment and maybe go knit a sock. Well. After the essays.