Showing posts with label genre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label genre. Show all posts

MADLIBBING: The Chronicle's "First Person" Columns

Welcome back to my Friday Madlibs game.

Here's what got me thinking. There are quite a few unintentional genres of writing and stories that are appearing on the web these days. This game is designed to poke fun at them.

This time, we'll start with something fairly common. I've been reading blogs for awhile now, and other things besides, and it seems there's some frustration with the Chronicle of Higher Ed's "First Person" columns. When I read them, they seem formulaic. You can predict with reasonable accuracy how any "First Person" column is going to begin. They're a genre unto themselves. Only the nouns have been changed to protect the innocent.

Honestly, when you read them too often they start to seem like those letters to the Penthouse forum or the columns in Cosmo about women who got their periods at inconvenient times. They're painful to read even as they seem just a little (or sometimes a lot) made-up. So what I did was to come up with a brief Madlibs style "First Person" teaser to play with. Tired of reading about how some one's wife/Magic 8 Ball/stamp collection helped them get through their dissertation? Propose something better.

Or maybe more importantly, if I'm right and have cracked the formula, then here's an easy way to get published. Here, then, is my guess at the formula for the Chronicle's "First Person" pieces and how your answers worked out. I think we have some contenders!

First, the formula:

First Person: "What your nemesis would title your biography"

A name of a degree or achievement chronicles their struggle to gain something you've lost (or at least never found) with the help of a gift you'd been given at graduation, ultimately deciding that name of a degree or achievement was not only adjective but a complete waste of noun and not what they thought it would be when they started because they should have focused on something you're interested in that no one else is instead.

And now....your answers!

K gives us:
First Person: "The Destroyer of Sacred Idols"

A writer of a book chapter on "Firefly" chronicles their struggle to gain the ability to drink without getting drunk with the help of the ability to not get much sleep, ultimately deciding that the ability to drink without getting drunk was not only creaky but a complete waste of archives and not what they thought it would be when they started because they should have focused on
whether there's a link between speed-reading at high comprehension levels and sight-reading music at high performance levels....in the same person instead.
Dr. Crazy gives us:
First Person: "Bright Gumdrop Unicorn"

A Doctor of Philosophy chronicles their struggle to
gain her virginity with the help of the complete unabridged audio version of "Ulysses," ultimately deciding that gaining her virginity was not only luscious but a complete of apples and not what they thought it would be when they started because they should have focused on "Booknotes" on C-Span instead.
Samantha gives us:
First Person: "Sarcastic Missy Know-it-all"

An MVP chronicles their struggle to gain a trust fund
with the help of a Christmas card, ultimately deciding that gaining a trust fund was not only sparkly but a complete waste of keys and not what they thought it would be when they started because they should have focused on Dorothy Stratten instead.
kermitthefrog gives us:
First Person: "She Smiles Until She Spits In Your Eye"

A Guitar Hero Champion chronicles their struggle to gain God with the help of a Cuisinart food processor, ultimately deciding that gaining God was not only spiky but a complete waste of a chaise lounge because they should have focused on their leg hair instead.
adjunct whore gives us:
First Person: "Whore"

Clara, in the Nutrcracker chronicles their struggle to gain peace with the help of a Mac laptop, ultimately deciding that gaining peace was not only sordid but a complete waste of a multitude because they should have focused on singing, dancing, and playing instead.
Rebecca gives us:
First Person: "God hates a know-it-all"

An MBA chronicles their struggle to gain 50 lbs, with the help of $5,000,000, ultimately deciding that gaining 50 lbs was not only sexy but a complete waste of a vampire because they should have focused on Moonlight (the TV show) instead.
Sisyphus gives us:
First Person: "The Boring Confessions of a Smartass"

The Best in Show chronicles their struggle to gain treasure, with the help of super powers, ultimately deciding that gaining treasure was not only mellifluous but a complete waste of a zebra because they should have focused on punctuation instead.
Ash gives us:
First Person: "She Uses Her Powers for Evil"

A mother chronicles their struggle to gain the ability to suffer fools with the help of therapy, ultimately deciding that gaining the ability to suffer fools was not only perky but a complete waste of hegemony because they should have focused on frogs instead.
So how about it, dear readers, have we cracked the formula? And if so, which of our entries should we try and submit?

My New Blog Game: An Introduction

It's near the end of the term for many of us. And a lot of folks are freaking out about the job market, the holidays, the cost of gas and what not. It is clearly time for a break. And so I'm calling time out for a little brain candy. Tell your friends. It's practically Friday (or it will be by the time most of you read this). Come on over to Curmudgeon's 'cause he's got a new way to pass the time.

But first, some general theoretical buildup by way of a tease.

Recently, I was talking with my students about how interesting I find the study of genre. And I was surprised to see how much they seemed to loathe the topic. Active disinterest, sure, but to actually have to commit to a stance?

Shocking.

Naturally, I tried to explain to them that genre is so interesting to me because it manages at once to show us a formula that we culturally recognize even as we dispute that formula as universal. We know a Western, as they say, but we can't come up with an exclusive list of what movies count or what things make that genre happen (Is it the coloring of the film? Sometimes. Is it gunfights and the horses? Maybe. Is "Firefly" a Western? Depends on who you ask.).

Genre, I said, represents a moment of both cultural agreement and of cultural dispute. When a genre is born, it is almost immediately contested. When we're presented with a genre, we know what to expect and what is expected of us, in turn.

And, perhaps more importantly (and probably more amusingly), once a genre emerges, we can turn the genre on itself. Sometimes we do it to take advantage of particular features (the way "Blade Runner" exploits the film noir formula to do something different with a science fiction story and in talking about man's relationship with machines) or to point out the conceits of the form (the way "Hot Fuzz" does with the buddy cop film).

And some things that have happened on the interweb have had me thinking about genre as well. Just what had me thinking will be apparent tomorrow when I post the second part of the game. To help demonstrate how conceited and formulaic the item in question has become, I have constructed a sample text but removed certain central phrases from it. If I'm right, simply supplying new elements will yield perfectly acceptable results (or at least humorous ones). So be patient for the explanation and indulge me in a game of Mad Libs. In the comments, if you feel like playing, give me the following:
  • what your nemesis would title your biography
  • the name of a degree or achievement
  • a gift you wish you'd been given at graduation
  • something you're interested in that no one else is
  • a noun
  • an adjective
  • something you've lost (or at least never found)
Be warned, this is an experiment and may not work perfectly. If all goes well, I'll post your responses tomorrow, and we can vote for the best one (and possibly nominate it for publication).

Meme fodder for a Friday afternoon

Not much to tell here today - the new contract arrived and needs review and the students are punch and distracted as am I - so lucky that I was tagged for this meme by MommyProf. The Darwin theme feels a little creepy and also maybe a little seventh grade, but since I've fallen into the Facebook pool, I won't resist the urge. Plus I'm a sucker for genre.

First, the rules:
There are a set of questions below that are all of the form, "The best [subgenre] [medium] in [genre] is...".Copy the questions, and before answering them, you may modify them in a limited way, carrying out no more than two of these operations:

You can leave them exactly as is.
You can delete any one question.
You can mutate either the genre, medium, or subgenre of any one question.
For instance, you could change "The best time travel novel in SF/Fantasy is..." to "The best time travel novel in Westerns is...", or "The best time travel movie in SF/Fantasy is...", or "The best romance novel in SF/Fantasy is...".
You can add a completely new question of your choice to the end of the list, as long as it is still in the form "The best [subgenre] [medium] in [genre] is...".
You must have at least one question in your set, or you've gone extinct, and you must be able to answer it yourself, or you're not viable.
Then answer your possibly mutant set of questions. Please do include a link back to the blog you got them from, to simplify tracing the ancestry, and include these instructions. Finally, pass it along to any number of your fellow bloggers. Remember, though, your success as a Darwinian replicator is going to be measured by the propagation of your variants, which is going to be a function of both the interest your well-honed questions generate and the number of successful attempts at reproducing them.


So, without further ado:
My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandparent is Pharyngula.
My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandparent is Metamagician and the Hellfire Club.
My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandparent is Flying Trilobite.
My great=great-great-great-great-great-great-grandparent is A Blog Around the Clock.
My great-great-great-great-great-great-grandparent is Primate Diaries.
My great-great-great-great-great-grandparent is Thus Spake Zuska.
My great-great-great-great-grandparent is a k8, a cat, a mission.
My great-great-great-grandparent is Monkeygirl.
My great-great-grandparent is DancingFish.
My great-grandparent is Dr. Brazen Hussy.
My grandparent is Addy
My parent is MommyProf

The best television series in SciFi is: Battlestar Galactica
The best cult movie in comedy is: This is Spinal Tap
The best road novel in classic fiction is: On the Road
The best high-fat food in Tex-Mex cooking is: chicken fried steak
The best recent movie in comedy is: Little Miss Sunshine

Now then, PopTart, Dr. Crazy, Dance, and Samantha: tag, you're it. And, of course, anyone else who stumbles by and needs a little distraction from the day.

Genre and the Academy: Reading the Academic Job Process

So technically, I should be grading. But I'm lingering around, nervous about a trip to the doctor to see what exactly I did to my knee a few weeks back. Initially, they thought it was a break in the top of my fibula, but they've since ruled that out. Whatever it is, it hasn't been so pressing that I could convince anyone to see me quickly. It's had me hobbling around several weeks, and the pain seems to have shifted which I can only assume means something awful

Want an academic horror story and what sounds like a happy ending? Just read this over at Scattered and Random, and it's got all the tell-tale elements: awful advisor, peculiar academic norms, haggling over areas of inquiry. And it has a happy ending.

Isn't it frightening that the academic advancement process - and I'm including grad school here - has evolved into a subset of the horror genre? Hand that first advisor a butcher knife and a soundtrack by Mike Oldfield, and it's a slasher movie ready made. That tale is so distressing and mine is so much better in comparison that I'm going to forswear complaining about the gig for a few days (but only a few: mom always said do what you're good at, so...).

p.s. maybe I should start giving all my blog entries conference paper like titles. Note the "witty" use of a semicolon