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Thursday, 17 July 2008


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I am now "that kind of blogger." Shoot me, already.

Rich Puchalsky

Scott, I don't really know what "that kind of blogger" is, but this entry is so archetypally Acephalous that if it makes you one, you have always been "that kind of blogger". I mean, come on. This wouldn't even make a new verse in your drinking song!

I wanted to put in a link, but -- oh hell, easier to cut and paste. Here, for the reference of readers new and old, is your drinking song.

[Begin chorus]

They tell of a man from Californiay
Who thought that his diss would be done some day
The Devil looked up, said "I'll make him pay"
So drink one for the troubles of SEK

[end chorus]

Now SEK's list of trials is long
And we'll see who's still standing after this song
He was beat up in high school, he didn't belong
But it was in grad school that things went wrong


And when his thesis had just begun
He turned against Theory, said that wasn't fun
The New Historicism is the one
He's stuck reading and re-reading Jack London


The doctor told him about his thyroid
He didn't want his wife to be annoyed
"If I hide it from everyone I'll stay employed"
So four months of concealment he enjoyed


Now SEK came to his office door
And found two students going at it on the floor
"This will make a good story" he thought before
The Sexual Harassment Office sent letters galore


And when he was down, and his thoughts were thick
His gloom was interrupted by Honda Civic
The car slammed into him and was gone in a lick
At least six months of rehab went by quick


But the most annoying were Internet trolls
Threats of bodily harm will take their toll
They sent letters to his boss, and to every soul
They could find in the whole county's Email roll


He got pictures of the husband of his friend
Having sex with a horde; he thought that was the end
Should he tell her? He went and hit "send"
Now he can't go home, or with thugs he'll contend


After all those troubles, he still wasn't drowned
Well, it was absurd, but this might be the crown
Overpayment of library fines will bring him down
He's no longer a student, just a proper noun


[many more verses, of course, to be added along with events]

He told us all this when he started a blog
And how fate or the Devil made him jump like a frog
The hiring committee looked on agog
[pessimistic last line]
If we hire him -- then our luck will fog
[vaguely "optimistic" alternate last line]
If we hire him -- then he'll work like a dog



Well, I guess we can't blame this one on you pissing off the wrong people online. I guess.

Looking at the drinking song, I realize that I'm not up to speed on all this stuff. Um, can someone provide a link to the events described in Verse 7 (not counting the Chorus)? About the, er, picture? I need it … for research.


Lock them in a metal shed on a 110 degree day. Perhaps those ignoramuses will have developed some sensitivity toward your air-conditioning issue. Maybe.


This is pretty typical of Irvine graduate student housing; I had many similar experiences when living there.


Rich, you make me want to cry, laugh, then cry some more.

Tomemos, um, I can't explain it here, but I'll send you a very, very long email.

Cheri, I like you something awful.


Robert Zimmerman

That's one hellofa saga. For what it's worth, as I read the drinking song it quickly turned into a parody of Dylan's "Tombstone Blues." The structure of the verse and chorus aren't quite right. But if you mentally croak through it in Dylan's voice with that manic, twangy vamp, it really brings out the spirit of the thing.

Rich Puchalsky

"The structure of the verse and chorus aren't quite right."

Well, I wrote it in 15 minutes or so (actually, a bit more, since I had a couple of incidents I forgot to put in the first time). If anyone plans on actually singing it, a lot of things are going to get naturally filed off (e.g. "Overpayment of library fines will bring him down" is unsingable, probably, with too many syllables, and would naturally become "Library fines will bring him down.")

But, yeah, I was definitely thinking of Dylan, also the more mournful sort of folk Western -- anything that traditionally is sung pronouncing California as Californiay.

Robert Zimmerman

Believe me, the bit about "not quite right" wasn't a comment on quality--as a for-fun, toss-off lyric yours is outstanding. I was just noting that the parallelism isn't perfect. The verses of Tombstone Blues have a 3+1 structure, with the last line tending to be a little truncated. The chorus has its own pattern. Brilliant stuff (plus "The sun's not yellow it's chicken" may be my all-time favorite rock-and-roll line).

Trey Hopson

S'okay to rant every once in a while, or else you'd have continued arguing with that landlord of yours, which - as these events have proven - will have only led you to a pointless conclusion (and another blog-rant). How are you now anyway? I hope you're in a more comfortable living condition.

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