gonzo is a… whatever?

Rizzo: What’s wrong?
Gonzo: It just feels so weird.
Rizzo: You mean that Mr. Arrow’s dead?
Gonzo: Yeah, that… and my pants are filled with starfish.
Rizzo: You and your hobbies…

~Muppet Treasure Island

the Haitian coffee girls

“I’ve never done this before,” I told him. “Presented a paper at a conference.”

“It’s a piece of piss, Jackson,” he said. “Piece of piss. You know what I do?”

“No,” I said.

“I just get up and read the paper. Then people ask questions, and I just bullshit,” he said. “Actively bullshit, as opposed to passively. That’s the best bit. Just bullshitting. Piece of utter piss.”

“I’m not really good at, um, bullshitting,” I said. “Too honest.”

“Then nod, and tell them that that’s a really perceptive question, and that it’s addressed at length in the longer version of the paper, of which the one you are reading is the edited abstract. If you get some nut-job giving you a really difficult time about something you got wrong, just get huffy and say that it’s not about what’s fashionable to believe, it’s about the truth.”

“Does that work?”

“Christ, yes, I gave a paper a few years back about the origins of the Thuggee sects in Persian military troops- it’s why you could get Hindus and Muslims equally becoming Thuggee, you see, the Kali worship was tacked on later. It would have begun as some sort of Manichean secret society—“

~Neil Gaiman “Fragile Things”

that’s academic writing and academism in general for you. just a lot of empty words and bullshit… and nobody really cares. and it’s kind of sad when you do happen to care, because then you are alone.
this is what the last school year felt like for me.