More student crap!
One of my elective courses next year is nifty:
This module aims to unravel some of the mythologies of the pop press. The elective will provide a historical overview of the development of pop magazines, with particular focus on the UK, a survey of some of the key writers to have made their mark in this field, and a number of case studies to evaluate the function that publications from New Musical Express to Smash Hits, The Face to Kerrang! perform in this complex marketplace.
One lecture per week at 1pm, no formal assessment, and a chance to get academic credit for laughing at music magazines from decades gone by!
And a few hundred miles away, in his Home Counties semi, a political figure is glowering at me and shouting, "the taxpayer is funding your Mickey Mouse degree, student scum!" Not that I care. The education bursary I received was roughly the same price to the taxpayer as a roll of Lord Irvine's infamous wallpaper.
I'm making my cat follow a spoon around the house, plucking my eyebrows, mocking Mary-Sues on deleterius and drinking stale Sauvignon Blanc straight from the bottle. My social life bites.
This module aims to unravel some of the mythologies of the pop press. The elective will provide a historical overview of the development of pop magazines, with particular focus on the UK, a survey of some of the key writers to have made their mark in this field, and a number of case studies to evaluate the function that publications from New Musical Express to Smash Hits, The Face to Kerrang! perform in this complex marketplace.
One lecture per week at 1pm, no formal assessment, and a chance to get academic credit for laughing at music magazines from decades gone by!
And a few hundred miles away, in his Home Counties semi, a political figure is glowering at me and shouting, "the taxpayer is funding your Mickey Mouse degree, student scum!" Not that I care. The education bursary I received was roughly the same price to the taxpayer as a roll of Lord Irvine's infamous wallpaper.
I'm making my cat follow a spoon around the house, plucking my eyebrows, mocking Mary-Sues on deleterius and drinking stale Sauvignon Blanc straight from the bottle. My social life bites.