The stupid, stupid, stupid NeMLA went back on the promise to have a normal (or maybe semi-normal) conference in March of 2021 and announced yesterday that it’s going fully online.
I mean, I’m seeing red, my BP is up and I’m angrily chewing on a large piece of mortadela while growling uncontrollably kind of livid.
I don’t go to conferences to read a talk out loud. I go for a change of scenery, lonely walks around a new city, connecting with people, hanging out together after a panel, meeting with early-career academics and chatting with them. The last real conference I went to, I met one of the blog’s readers and we had a great chat.
Being in a new place, outside of your regular environment is the whole point of a conference. It clears your brain and helps you move your research along as a result. What is the flipping point of a “conference” when all you get is another Zoom meeting in addition to five million Zoom meetings you already have?
And I was going to give such a fun talk. Remember how I roasted Almudena Grandes’s Frankenstein’s Mother here on the blog? I was going to give a whole talk on it. How fun is that?
I’m still going to do it because I promised to organize a session for my association but I feel zero enthusiasm for it.