tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45584124825167397922011-04-21T19:58:05.594-07:00the place where a professor of empathy condescends to think like other people--and tells their stories!Gnarlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04233280039513801839noreply@blogger.comBlogger21100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4558412482516739792.post-79664162675464046332008-07-02T19:31:00.000-07:002008-07-02T19:51:31.252-07:00Students these days are much like they've always been: curious, innovative, and polite. They love music (another constant), reading, and writing essays and reports. A student I'm very fond of stopped by today, and we had a nice chat about a paper he was working on that dealt with cognitive metaphors and conceptual blending theory. Although the paper was for another professor, I asked him to send me a copy so I could follow up with my own comments. As well, I hope to learn something about this field from him, which will save me from having to read George Lakoff, something I should have done a long time ago but, because I don't like his beard and his trivializing application of his theory for the Democrats, I suspect I never will.<div><br /></div><div>This kind of discussion is routine for me. Students are forever coming up with fascinating ideas: it's part of their charm. They never tire of finding new ways to wear pants. Reinventing wheels, as it were, but this time using catgut instead of rubber or pie plates instead of chrome rims. Do you take my meaning? Best of all, students are gung ho about their futures. Not the future of the species or the planet, mind you, which they know is hopeless. But they are high about their own personal fates. This one will be a lawyer, that one a judge, this chap over here an events planner in the world's fanciest hotel. Who can resist their optative mood, as Emerson would call it? Not I! If it weren't for the callow dreams of youth, I would have hung myself long ago.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4558412482516739792-7966416267546404633?l=thegnarlyacademic.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gnarlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04233280039513801839noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4558412482516739792.post-66782135052687427992008-07-02T12:18:00.000-07:002008-07-02T12:35:57.017-07:00The <a href="http://thegrumpyacademic.com">grumpy academic</a>, who is a direct reincarnation of Ezra Pound, doesn't care what you think. But I do. I think about what you're thinking all the time. I try to imagine me as you, going through your day, doing your thing, eating your meal, writing your book, petting your dog,  sleeping with your wife or daughter, achieving your success. To me you are as the trees and the stars, and you have a right to be all you can be. I am a node in your matrix. I am the Joe Pantalioni to your Keanu Reeves. I humble myself before your eminence, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">grise</span> or otherwise. Don't make me hurt me; let me in. I love you.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4558412482516739792-6678213505268742799?l=thegnarlyacademic.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gnarlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04233280039513801839noreply@blogger.com0