A Scheduled Rant

I drove myself too hard today, which is a rare occurrence because I usually know my limits. So now I’m very depleted. It doesn’t help that people conspire to annoy me. 

After the ecocritical outrage committed against my scholarly persona, I walk into my classroom and discover that the huge tripartite blackboard is covered top to bottom with crap in the vein of “men are afraid women will laugh at them, women are afraid men will kill them” and “white men / white women / brown bodies” (because “brown” always precedes “bodies” and never, say, “women” in this cloying lingo). So not only does the blackboard – and poor students’ minds – have to be polluted with this empty blabber but I get to spend the first 10 minutes of my class wiping off the white women and the pseudo-feminist ditties. Somehow it’s the most socially conscious that are the least capable of remembering the existence of other people around them. 

And it’s sweltering hot again. Drat.


There is seriously nothing dumber than the so-called ecocriticism. This is what an “ecocritic” writes about a character who is a serial killer and who murdered her disabled sister, her cousin and is planning to poison her little sister because it’s fun. The same character also likes to torture and kill small animals, of course:

This is the case, I argue, with Irlanda (1998) by Espido Freire, a novel that has been characterized as the bildungsroman of a young witch. Despite her shocking behavior, it is the contention of this essay that the protagonist’s moral development is predicated on notions of fairness, care, and other prosocial stances that ensue from her sensitivity to the natural environment.

It’s very caring, fair and “prosocial” to strangle disabled children because they compete with you for attention. Of course, if the serial killer in the novel were male, it would never occur to anybody to claim that his killings are caring and fair. But as we all know, women are caring and nurturing by default. It’s their essence. They are also deeply connected to nature in a way men aren’t. So whatever women do can be explained by these essential characteristics.

Robotically Good

That culture laid out the script we all were supposed to follow: Get married before you have children and strive to stay married for their sake. Get the education you need for gainful employment, work hard, and avoid idleness. Go the extra mile for your employer or client. Be a patriot, ready to serve the country. Be neighborly, civic-minded, and charitable. Avoid coarse language in public. Be respectful of authority. Eschew substance abuse and crime.

Totally reminded me of this joke where a man tells a doctor, “I don’t drink, smoke, or gamble. I don’t drink coffee or tea, just water. I don’t eat meat. I work out 5 times a week and always go to bed before 10 pm. I avoid stressful situations. Will I be able to live to 100 years old?” “Probably,” the doctor says. “If you can call this freak show of yours life.”

Don’t people notice how ridiculous they sound when they produce such descriptions of robotic goodness? If one were to meet such a fellow in RL, he’d probably turn out to be a serial killer. Because you can’t repress to this degree and not have a major shadow lurking behind the robotic exterior.