#Undergrad Courses

[revvethasmythh]

I think something we're sleeping on in the Gale epilogue is that he says he wants to try writing books about our adventures, which directly puts him in competition with Volo, who is also writing about the same adventures

This would--inevitably--devolve into a writer/academic feud for the ages, spreading copious misinformation to the masses as both writers can accurately claim to be primary sources, with wildly different tellings between them. There will be synthesis commentary papers written about both of their works by historians for centuries, and even though Volo's is full of blatant lies it must be considered because he is....well, Volo. and, like, he was verifiably there and involved with everything. there is no world where that is not infuriating to an academic like Gale. Gale will be blowing a gasket for the rest of his life about being in competition with Volo's Tome of Lies. There will be sniping in the footnotes of all his papers at the bard for the rest of his life. Bitter bard vs academic warfare, that's what we're looking at here

[littlemizzlinguistics]

Me telling a story that happened in a different language: okay, now this next bit is really funny but doesn’t translate well, so let’s take a brief interlude for me to explain to you the sociocultural context behind this idiom. Just give me five minutes and you’ll be laughing, I swear.

Narrator: they did not, in fact, laugh.

[beannary]

does anyone want to finish these last 300 words of this essay for me?

[anna-scribbles]

h-how do you ever finish any of your work? genuine question because you seem to be productive despite your agreste syndrome and I need to learn your ways. but also how do you ever finish any of your work

unclear. last night i stayed up and finished a report worth 25% of my grade at about 5am, arrived on time for my 9am lecture, and spent about half of it zoned out while thinking about seventeen year old emilie agreste. and i was one of the most active participants in the class discussion

[ohno-the-sun]

Woot woot more mad scientist au doodles! 

Credit to @oobbbear​ 

Another doodle under the cut (its my favorite but its gory so be warned)

[zielenna]

The scene unfolds like nearly every other scene in Outline: Someone talks, Faye listens. The latter, a divorced novelist of few biographical details, serves as a kind of Grecian urn into which her conversation partners eagerly pour the metaphors that rule their lives, delivering reflections on art, marriage, and family in the same tone of Spartan clarity.

[jakeperalta]

every time I remember I'll never be a student again

[aliusfrater]

realising how fucking messed up the canon timeline for how much college sam actually did is

[nicollekidman]

where did you go to school and what did you study?

i went to nyu gallatin and concentrated in essentially literature and polysci/sociology but almost all of my classes were interdisciplinary seminars so i was out there taking shit like “philosophy of religion” and “domesticating the wild in children’s literature”…… literally greatest most stimulating four years of my life (academically) and i would pay a million dollars to have access to my course essays again. my concentration colloquium i ended up titling “loaded language: domination & dissent through the written word” and everytime i think about it im like woah i really tapped into something that i would only get more interested in and also goddamn i need to get an advanced degree and also yeah every stereotype about gallatin students is true lol

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I would like for things in my life to stop engaging in an apparent competition to make me stressed and miserable, thanks

[identitty-dickruption]

advice for people in uni: don’t be scared to drop classes and drop them as early as possible. if you read the syllabus and it’s a nightmare or if you show up to lecture number one and the lecturer has bad vibes. literally drop that shit. don’t even worry about it

[greenconverses]

three more days until i never have to write another research paper again

[gaytobymeres]

I used to be consistently embarrassed by anything I made/wrote but now I can reread my fic like ‘oh this is alright actually’ and I like looking at the photos I’ve taken and I like rereading some of my academic writing and yeah maybe it’s not amazing but I can recognise that it is good and I have improved at various things. Which is nice.

[lokh]

also these past 3 days has taught me that while people no longer think im a high schooler. they still think im an undergrad

[essektheylyss]

what people expect when you sign up for an LIS degree: haha quirky book nerds, so fun, I remember toddler storytime at the library are you gonna read to children

what they actually get when you sign up for an LIS degree: smashing Alexa isn't enough anymore I need to learn how to run my own internet and also build a house on a totally closed circuit system.

[beaft]

october 18th

today's spooky poem is neil gaiman's "vampire sestina", featured in the collection "smoke and mirrors". as any poet will tell you, a sestina is a fiendishly tricky beast, so i'm always impressed when i find a good one - and this is, i think, a good one! you can read a little more about sestinas here, and if you've got some free time on your hands, you might try your hand at writing your own. (well, why not?)

VAMPIRE SESTINA

I wait here at the boundaries of dream, All shadow-wrapped.  The dark air tastes of night, So cold and crisp, and I wait for my love. The moon has bleached the color from her stone. She'll come, and then we'll stalk this pretty world Alive to darkness and the tang of blood.

It is a lonely game, the quest for blood. But still, a body's got the right to dream And I'd not give it up for all the world. The moon has leeched the darkness from the night. I stand in the shadows, staring at her stone: Undead, my lover... O, undead my love?

I dreamt you while I slept today and love Meant more to me than life - meant more than blood. The sunlight sought me, deep beneath my stone, More dead than my corpse but still a-dream Until I woke as vapor into the night And sunset forced me out into the world.

For many centuries I've walked the world Dispensing something that resembled love -  A stolen kiss, then back into the night Contented by the life and by the blood. And come the morning I was just a dream, Cold body chilling underneath a stone.

I said I would not hurt you. Am I stone To leave you prey to time and to the world? I offered you a truth beyond your dreams While all you had to offer was your love. I told you not to worry and that blood Tastes sweeter on the wing and late at night.

Sometimes my lovers rise to walk the night... Sometimes they lie, cold corpse beneath the stone, And never know the joys of bed and blood, Of walking through the shadows of the world; Instead they rot to maggots. O my love They whispered you had risen, in my dream.

I've waited by your stone for half the night But you won't leave your dream to hunt for blood. Good night, my love. I offered you the world.

—Neil Gaiman