My career as a talking head.
It's not every day that you kill three small animals, remove their
spleens, and smash them into mush, all in front of a girl you met a
week ago. For me, that's only on Mondays.
(The girl is our new student assistant. You never really know how someone's first sacrifice and dissection will go-- even your most driven pre-meds can be put off their lunch by learning, firsthand, that inside cute furry mouse exteriors lies what can best be described as mouse glop.)
As for the title, well, remember my stint as a Chronicle columnist? Yeah, neither do I. I made a point of usually saying reasonable things. As a result, I wrote mostly very boring columns and wasn't renewed for a second semester.
But, apparently, someone went digging through the archives and found my piece on the way multiculturalism works at Duke, followed my name through the directory, where I'm still entered because, well, I work here, and invited me to be on a panel discussion in the Multicultural Center.
Now, a panel discussion in the Mutilcultural Center would be near the bottom of places I thought I'd be two years after graduation. On the other hand, how many times am I going to hear the phrase, "I read something you wrote, and want you to come talk about it"? Not very many.
Also, given that my column was a (slightly veiled) critique of the entire multiculturalist master narrative, I figured I was being invited to be the villain of the piece. Never turn down an opportunity to be cast as a villain, I always say. So, I launched my career as pundit.
I forgot, though, that multiculturalism doesn't have villains-- that might require conflict. The members of the discussion, along with the three facilitators from the Center for Race Relations, were all terribly polite as they told me how insightful my article was. Then they ignored they calmly ignored the main point, smoothed over the uncomfortable bits where I tried to challenge the normal structures of mult-cult rhetoric, and ended the meeting with the triumphant conclusion that Duke wasn't multiculturalist enough. It was really kind of incredible-- like trying to have a discussion with fish about the nature of water.
Anyway, I'm clearly not terribly good at punditry. From my observations of professionals, I believe the key feature I'm missing is more shouting, and possibly a catchphrase of some sort. I'll work on it for next time.
Final sign that I am a complete dork: I am may too excited over my new lab toy: the new multi-channel pipette, with its easy loading, smooth operation, and low ejection forces. I think I'm only supposed to feel this kind of affection for a machine if it has four wheels and an engine.
(The girl is our new student assistant. You never really know how someone's first sacrifice and dissection will go-- even your most driven pre-meds can be put off their lunch by learning, firsthand, that inside cute furry mouse exteriors lies what can best be described as mouse glop.)
As for the title, well, remember my stint as a Chronicle columnist? Yeah, neither do I. I made a point of usually saying reasonable things. As a result, I wrote mostly very boring columns and wasn't renewed for a second semester.
But, apparently, someone went digging through the archives and found my piece on the way multiculturalism works at Duke, followed my name through the directory, where I'm still entered because, well, I work here, and invited me to be on a panel discussion in the Multicultural Center.
Now, a panel discussion in the Mutilcultural Center would be near the bottom of places I thought I'd be two years after graduation. On the other hand, how many times am I going to hear the phrase, "I read something you wrote, and want you to come talk about it"? Not very many.
Also, given that my column was a (slightly veiled) critique of the entire multiculturalist master narrative, I figured I was being invited to be the villain of the piece. Never turn down an opportunity to be cast as a villain, I always say. So, I launched my career as pundit.
I forgot, though, that multiculturalism doesn't have villains-- that might require conflict. The members of the discussion, along with the three facilitators from the Center for Race Relations, were all terribly polite as they told me how insightful my article was. Then they ignored they calmly ignored the main point, smoothed over the uncomfortable bits where I tried to challenge the normal structures of mult-cult rhetoric, and ended the meeting with the triumphant conclusion that Duke wasn't multiculturalist enough. It was really kind of incredible-- like trying to have a discussion with fish about the nature of water.
Anyway, I'm clearly not terribly good at punditry. From my observations of professionals, I believe the key feature I'm missing is more shouting, and possibly a catchphrase of some sort. I'll work on it for next time.
Final sign that I am a complete dork: I am may too excited over my new lab toy: the new multi-channel pipette, with its easy loading, smooth operation, and low ejection forces. I think I'm only supposed to feel this kind of affection for a machine if it has four wheels and an engine.