BUT I’m at 2.430/3.000, and approaching coherency and it’s no longer all quotations from other people. …So basically I’m now where I ought to have been on Saturday. (well. Technically, last Wednesday, but whatever)
I think I shall acquire food of some description now. I have earned food. With my writings and my thinkings.
Still seriously considering “being Bernard Black” as my future career goal, however.
No, for real, I am never finishing this fucking essay. I should’ve gone with pop art. No matter how good this turns out, I’m going to fail for turning it in WAY TOO LATE, JFC.
I have 4.000 words now. I don’t NEED 4.000 words. I need 3.000 coherent words that aren’t me trying to make sense of whatever the hell Judith Butler is trying to say about sex/identity/performance.
I’m actually pretty good at analysing theory texts, but it is a useless, useless gift, since generally speaking, nobody ever asks me to do it.
My assignment is “Discuss two major strategies of feminism with examples drawn from art, design or media” not “Talk to me about your understanding of this one text that Judith Butler wrote 30 years ago”.
Goddamn freshman classes.
Also, sideyeing both Freud and Lacan right now. A lot.