Tuesday, 09 September 2008

"         ?"

(x-posted.)

Life-altering erudition in honor of Britney Spears of his day can be found here. 

I don't know about you, but I'm a changed man.

(I should start a series.)

Sep 9, 2008 9:39:20 PM | Herbert Spencer

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Gigantic Favor (This post will self-destruct shortly.) Will some generous soul read over my Twain chapter for 1) typos and 2) egregiously stupid statements?* I wouldn't ask, but I have to turn this thing in on Wednesday and have the editorial near-sightedness which comes from being too close to a text. The chapter is barely this side of awful—fitful pacing, signposts everywhere, ghastly prose—but at this point I'm more worried about done than good.** I'm trying to avoid this is all. You can download it here. I found me a mensch. If you would like to read it, send me an email. *Cut-and-paste errors mostly: lack of transitions, re-introducing something already introduced, not introducing something I seem to be referring back to, &c. **That's not false humility. The chapter is truly awful for reasons which I could (and will in the future) describe. But it is not good. Nor is it representative of my work generally. (In conception, maybe, but not in execution.)
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Meet the New Scott, Same as the Old Scott I tried to file today. Woke up early. Did one last read-through. Handed it into the printer by 10:00 a.m. Specified paper weight and margin width. They said give them half an hour. I walk across the bridge to campus with my signature page. Try to get Second Reader to sign it. He won't sign it until my chair signs it. I email my my chair. He says he can't sign it until he arrives home at 4:00 p.m. Says I should drive up to his place and he'll sign it. I say I'll see him then. Third Reader's signatures are in the mail but didn't arrive with it. The department secretary immediately phones Third Reader. He assures her he'd sent it UPS. Not campus mail. Not FedEx. The library archives—housed in that library—close at 5:00 p.m. It is now 12:00 p.m. I walk back across the bridge to the printer. They handed me two copies of my dissertation in boxes. The boxes say "Copy Paper" on them. The woman behind the counter rings me up. My total comes to $41.00. Or approximately nine fewer dollars than the cost of a box of the specified 20-lb 100 percent cotton bond. I open one box. It is my dissertation. Yay! Printed on copy paper. Boo! I mention the error. Show the woman my copy of the order. She needs to talk to her manager. He is exasperated. Says to do my order again. Says this order will come out of her next paycheck. She says it will be about half an hour. It is now 1:00 p.m. I return to the department and check the mail. Nothing from Third Reader. Department secretary says not to worry. The UPS guy arrives late. I don't worry much. I still have four hours. I double-check my paper-work. I FORGOT TO PRINT OUT MY EXIT QUESTIONNAIRE! IT IS ALL OVER! Department secretary says not to worry. Says I can walk to Graduate Studies and print it out. I do. I can. I return to the department. Still no mail. Wait a minute—we still may have mail. No! It is now 2:00 p.m. I return to the printer. I am handed two boxes. They say 20-lb 100 percent cotton bond on them. I open one up. It is my dissertation. Yay! Printed on the proper paper. Yay! With new margins. Boo! I mention the error. The woman denies it. I show her my table of contents. Show her where it says CHAPTER TWO begins on page 81. Pull out the first page of CHAPTER TWO. Point to the page number at the bottom. Ask her whether 76 and 81 are the same number. She needs to talk to her manager. He is exasperated. She is exasperated. She is told to be exasperated at home. The manager apologizes. Explains he charged her for the mistake. That she must have widened the margins to keep down her costs. Says I still need to pay for the paper. I...

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