Note from the Underground #1
Herein commence my digital contributions.
It's 2:22 AM. I'm settled into the Learning Commons with a Coca-Cola Zero (Coca-Cola proper was sold out @ Chadbourne vending ...,) a pack of Camel Reds and four unwritten pages of 'close reading.'
('Close reading' is a painful process of textual analysis. A frustrating rock, upon which an English major's degree is built.)
There are only a few of us here -- from my console I count 8, including myself, in the main computer block.
Per usual, I will spend much too much of the night with MS Word closed, and Firefox open. Facebook is the great black hole of undergraduate time. It will suck up my early morning hours, and drive me to a desperate last-minute rush. I will compose my first page in two hours, and my last page in twenty minutes.
Often during the week, I stand in the line for the computers here and fume at the Facebook-checkers, YouTube-watchers and MySpace-updaters who are wasting away my precious daylight internet time. I might need to send a few quick emails, or print a paper for my next class.
Standard fare.
As long as my needs are academic, I'll allow myself to be secretly self-righteous. "Who do these people think they are?" "Why doesn't someone yell at them?" "I would never be caught dead checking Facebook instead of working ..."
Put a computer in front of me, and my tune changes. I want to update my status. I want to tweak my "Favorite Movies" entry. I wonder if that Springsteen show in July was really as good as they say. I check "YouTube." I'm guilty on all charges.
It's getting near 3:00, which, as you know, is the officially accepted start-time for 'close-reading.' Homework calls.
The moral of the story is this: unless you are 100% immune to Facebook-checking, YouTube-watching and the likes, you are no longer allowed to complain. Not even to yourself.
It's 2:58 AM, and that's my opinion.
James M.
It's 2:22 AM. I'm settled into the Learning Commons with a Coca-Cola Zero (Coca-Cola proper was sold out @ Chadbourne vending ...,) a pack of Camel Reds and four unwritten pages of 'close reading.'
('Close reading' is a painful process of textual analysis. A frustrating rock, upon which an English major's degree is built.)
There are only a few of us here -- from my console I count 8, including myself, in the main computer block.
Per usual, I will spend much too much of the night with MS Word closed, and Firefox open. Facebook is the great black hole of undergraduate time. It will suck up my early morning hours, and drive me to a desperate last-minute rush. I will compose my first page in two hours, and my last page in twenty minutes.
Often during the week, I stand in the line for the computers here and fume at the Facebook-checkers, YouTube-watchers and MySpace-updaters who are wasting away my precious daylight internet time. I might need to send a few quick emails, or print a paper for my next class.
Standard fare.
As long as my needs are academic, I'll allow myself to be secretly self-righteous. "Who do these people think they are?" "Why doesn't someone yell at them?" "I would never be caught dead checking Facebook instead of working ..."
Put a computer in front of me, and my tune changes. I want to update my status. I want to tweak my "Favorite Movies" entry. I wonder if that Springsteen show in July was really as good as they say. I check "YouTube." I'm guilty on all charges.
It's getting near 3:00, which, as you know, is the officially accepted start-time for 'close-reading.' Homework calls.
The moral of the story is this: unless you are 100% immune to Facebook-checking, YouTube-watching and the likes, you are no longer allowed to complain. Not even to yourself.
It's 2:58 AM, and that's my opinion.
James M.
posted by Editorial Staff at
11:21 PM
1 Comments:
great rant. i've been in the situation several times before.
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