Midterm KILL ME

I managed to hand in my midterm complete and on time, although the jury is still out regarding my grade. Despite everyone comforting me and assuring me that they're sure I did fine, I'm concerned. This was some serious academic writing, and I would have enjoyed having more time to refine and clarify my statements. I'm sort of kicking myself for waiting so long to begin the process, but looking back, I'm not sure how I could have begun any sooner.

I've been struggling in this class from the very beginning. Critical Theory is not my forte, obviously. I've had a good deal of trouble comprehending the readings, and while I've been able to regurgitate the concepts, I've been unable to free-think my way through them. It wasn't until two weeks ago during class when lightening struck my brain and I was able to respond intelligently to a question posed by our teacher. The room fell silent as we all pondered the connection between Lacan and Hegel. Like a switch being flipped on and the room being flooded with light I suddenly saw it, I became so elated I clapped my hands and called out, "OH! I GET IT!"

I rattled out an answer and sounded so dead clever, I impressed myself.

A week later I received an email from my teacher asking if my epiphany in class would be my topic for my midterm. I laughed out loud. No bloody way I was writing about Hegel. Hate that fucker.

First of all, he's Out There. Second, no one reads him because his writing is so dense and impossible. Not helping is that it's been translated from damn German. Of course we had to not only read stuff written on Hegel's theories, we had to read the bugger ourselves. This led to about 40 aneurysms, 13 strokes, 9 temper tantrums and 4 crying jags. All by me. Take this passage, for example:

"Rather, the thing, the fact, is; and it is merely because it is. It is--that is the essential point for sense-knowledge, and that bare fact of being, that simple immediacy, constitutes its truth."

SERIOUSLY. Dear Hegel: Please find another verb besides "is." Also, what the hell you talking about? No love, 8K.

So yeah. When it came time to think of midterm topics, I made a broad statement to the two classmates I share a table with. "Under no circumstances am I writing about Hegel. I'm not that insane." My classmates, who thankfully seem to be just as lost as I am, nodded in agreement. To undertake Hegel is madness.

But as the days slipped by, I couldn't deny that the link between Hegel and Lacan was one of the few topics I could expound upon with any degree of certainty. But now I needed to apply that link to something.

"You should write about Doctor Who," Stephanie told me with a grin.

"Oh, I wish. But I can't. I need to apply it to Literature or Art or something."

But, the more I thought about Hegel and Lacan, the more I saw that Doctor Who was really an ideal example. Hegel's cognitive beings being robbed of the Now, for example. How can you have a Now when you're in a time machine? The Sliveen, Daleks, and Cybermen being the contradictions expelled along the Doctor's dialectical struggle. The Doctor's loss of his home planet and his people, an example of Lacan's loss of the Real. It was all making sense in my head. So I asked for permission from my teacher. Being a fan of Buffy, she understood dorky TV shows and agreed.

So yes, I wrote about Doctor Who for my midterm. Shut up.

SHUT UP, I say.

Here was my title: "How Soon is Now? Hegelian Philosophy, Lacanian Psychoanalysis and the Realm of Doctor Who." (I hope I get bonus points for The Smiths reference!)

Hours after finalizing my paper's topic I discovered via a LiveJournal Doctor Who community that a Doctor Who Symposium has just been announced for next fall at the University of Cardiff, as part of the celebration of the show's 45th anniversary. They'll be accepting papers shortly after the new year.

I've decided that this is an omen.

For better or worse, no matter what my grade, I'm going to refine, expand, and polish that paper and submit it to the symposium. Stephanie has already signed up to be my lady in waiting and travel with me. I am accepting one other lady in waiting, applications may be submitted directly to me (I'm looking at you, Renee).

Anyway. I pulled an all-nighter to get my paper completed, something I hope to never do again. I'm knackered. I feel like my brain is leaking out of my ears. I have a field trip to the art museum with my Visual Literacy class tomorrow (where I have to give a small presentation) and then I have a blissful week off for Thanksgiving.

Of course, after Thanksgiving I have to begin working on my Critical Theory final. But as Scarlett O'Hara would say, I won't think about that now. I'll think about that tomorrow.