Sunday, 13 November 2005

The Swellest CFP Ever; or, With Glorious Abandon, I Neglect Thee Since I dragged you through the doldrums yesterday, I think it only appropriate I share this afternoon's uplifting news. First, while undertaking the dread task that is sifting through the recent CFPs, I stumbled across this gem: CFP: Evolution in the U.S. - ASA 2006 I am seeking participants for a panel on "Evolution in the U.S." for the 2006 American Studies Association Annual Meeting, which will be held in Oakland, California. This panel seeks to study the debates surrounding evolution from both historical and modern perspectives and to consider issues including, but not limited to, religion, race, region, free speech, sexuality, class, ethnicity, and popular culture. My own work focuses on the gendered responses to and ramifications of Darwinian evolutionary theory. Ideally, I would like this panel to include diverse theoretical, methodological, and thematic approaches to evolution; international American Studies scholars; and a mix of graduate students, faculty, high school teachers, and activists. This panel also seeks to encourage more discussion of science within the American Studies community. This may be the first ever CFP I can answer without having to tailor my work to the panel's demands. Huzzah! Second, my advisor wrote me back and said that the fact that I worked myself into this corner with London doesn't exactly fill him with confidence that things are going to turn out differently with Churchill and Mitchell . . . he thinks putting London aside and concentrating on Churchill and Mitchell for the remainder of the month a not terrible idea. So for the first time in what seems like this life, I can spend an entire day not thinking about Jack London. You cannot imagine how liberating it feels. (I anticipate returning to my 311 pages of notes with fresh eyes at a later date, mind you. But for now, I live free of London and his endless intellectual fad-mongering.) Clearly tomorrow will be the day when I turn outward and design to entertain y'all again.
Tuesday Ode Day: Ode to a Faux-Tee Between The Weblog's weekly contempt and contrition I spy a gully. I want that furrow further worn with embarassing enthusiams. How do I propose to accomplish this? With gushing odes to objects and ideas which under normal circumstances don't warrant odes. As the title "Odeman Extraordinaire" appeals to my inflated sense of self-importance, and I figure at the rate of an ode a week I can earn it in less time than it takes most people to purchase a badly battered 1993 Chevy Corsica. (Recent experience indicates such a purchase requires more time than anyone considers reasonable.) Tonight I present the first installment of the Tuesday Ode, which I call "Ode to a Faux-Tee": A face from nought, I dispatch this fool beard, From chin and cheeks I shade, altering measure; On jaw Norelco chopped at four, on chops it sheared At three. Forsooth admit this tonsure Chills a soul to Kelvin's absolute. But being that attractiveness to all Depends upon the trimmed, not hirsute mug Of one swashbuckling and "cute," My "shavéd" face, displayed as at The Mall, Wears its whiskers like a thug. Oh for face of Pitt! or one which would Be coo'ed emetic never -the, nor -any -less, I offer booty, tho' be it understood All piratanical, but I digress. Oh that my jaw had animate jut, like Wayne, Of bone composed, mandibular success! This chin, my chin, recessed unto the pain; Unless expert manscape, causes stress. That I might strut and feel so masculine, I trim this faux-tee to a manly maximum.

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