My guiding principle for deciding whether a conference session was good is whether it would be of interest to my blog readers. I believe that if a group of intelligent, curious people have no use for what you are saying, that’s a problem. 

The session on anti-theory I attended would definitely not bore you. I hate conference talks where people drone on without ever lifting their eyes from their papers and use copious amounts of jargon to mask the weakness of their arguments. The anti-theory presenters did none of it. There were 7 people and each of them spoke for 7 minutes. The talks were fun and funny, intelligent and intelligible, useful and thought-provoking. Everybody poked vicious fun at the 1980s – 1990s with their “dead white men”, intersectionality, anti-colonialism taken to bizarre extremes, obsessive denouncing of hierarchies, and fear of reason and theory as oppressive, male, and Western.

I feel very intellectually invigorated. It was a great idea to come here. 

I just found something called a terminal market which sounds creepy but there is a cool used bookstore inside and a place that sells shawarma. I hope the shawarma doesn’t prove to be terminal. 

I’m sitting at a real city café! The coffee costs so much that when the cashier told me the price I thought she was selling me an annual membership. The seats are super uncomfortable wooden blocks that make me bless my weight because bony asses must suffer hellish tortures on them. But it’s a real city café in a real city with people actually passing by. I haven’t seen as many people in a year as I have already observed from the café. 

The mirror showed me such an unexpectedly rosy face that at first I praised my new semi-liquid blush from Benefit. But then I realized that I’d just taken an hour-long walk outside in winter, and that’s what chased away my prison parlor.

I love wearing my convention badge. It must make me look very weird since I’m not at the convention and haven’t been yet. I don’t care, though, because wearing my name on my chest makes me feel important. 

These people won’t quit making total asses out of themselves until Trump is elected to his second term:

Call your representative, and politely ask them not to ratify the Electoral College results–it won’t stop Trump, but at least Congress will own his election as well. As importantly, it will make Republicans look even more ridiculous when they claim voter fraud.

People hate losers. As Tolstoy pointed out, the taint of losership is so threatening that people turn against a loser like he’s a mangy, wounded dog and tear him to pieces. Which is why walking around with a banner that says SORE LOSER is a horrible idea. There will be other elections in the future. The most recent election was lost, to a huge extent, because Democrats couldn’t build an appealing image. Maybe it’s finally time to start doing something about that. 

By the way, I’m wondering if anybody in the Dem leadership is working on a slogan that could challenge the genius “Make America Great Again” or if they do nothing but pout.

The movie The Girl on the Train turned out to be vastly superior to the book (that I reviewed here.) Thanks to a very good director of photography and an actress called Haley Bennett whom I never saw before but who’s strangely talented for a Hollywood actress, the movie is actually good. Bennett took a character that was so flat in the book I forgot she existed and made her into a tragic and memorable figure. It’s a pity that the other two actresses are so typically indifferent. With 3 strong female leads, this could be an outstanding movie.

I have a strawberry yoghurt mask, aloe socks, a bucket of cherries, a San Pellegrino, a book that has nothing to do with work, and I’m about to order The Girl on the Train.

This is very not horrible.

I forgot how much I love Philadelphia. Almost as much as I love Chicago and Baltimore. I could be living here had I not made a total ass our of myself at the job interview 9 years ago. 

Klara’s daycare is conducting a weight loss challenge. At first, I freaked out but then it turned out it’s for parents, grandparents, and teachers. I’m not participating because I enjoy having my dignity.

I’m on my way to Philadelphia, folks. This will be my version of going to the resort, also known as the MLA. Initially, I was planning to speak but that fell through. I had already paid the enormous registration fee which my university will never reimburse since I’m not speaking. We had tons of points for a free ticket and hotel, so it made more sense to go than to waste the registration and membership fees.

I’ve been sick since October for no discernible reason. It must be that I’m tired. At the MLA I hope to rest, sleep, visit the book fair and go to the hotel spa. Since it’s kind of work related, I feel less guilty than if I went to an actual resort.

Klara clearly sensed that I was leaving, and she’s been throwing tantrums whenever I set her down yesterday and today. N is taking days off to stay with her, and he’s happy as a clam. 

ACA will be dismantled while Obama is still president. In the meanwhile, Trump will be untouched because all he does is support keeping the only provisions that people understand. Trump will end up being the hero of this story while Obama will be the one who messed up. And that’s how smart people do things.

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Some fool on the news has smugly announced that Trump is “very insecure.” The very insecure Trump is a billionaire who in a few days will become president of the US. But our brilliant political analysts who couldn’t predict or explain his win can’t quit feeling smugly superior. 

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Trump is defending Assange and soon probably Snowden. Cognitive dissonance is awaiting many liberals.