I am about to go into seclusion in preparation for my first qualifying exam on Friday. For those of you who are smart enough to have avoided grad school, qualifying exams are a 9-hour ordeal in which we basically tell the tenured faculty everything we know about a particular subject. "Everything" is to be taken literally in that sentence – we are supposed to show complete and exhaustive knowledge of the subjects in question, after which we are "qualified" to teach it at the Graduate level (hence the name).
Please help me prepare a musical playlist for this event.
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Right now, nothing screams "9 hour exam music" so my current plan is to put Pack up the Cats on repeat play and listen to it 10 times.
For the rest of the week, I leave you in the hands of Mike and Erik. You may remember them from their most recent posts, which I believe were in 2003.
Lastly, I send myself off into the exam with the greatest words of wisdom that I have ever been given. As bar bathroom graffiti at the Empty Bottle famously told me (and many other Chicago males), "Go with God. Pee in her butt."
Well put.
Well put.
Rick says:
Try listening to an album called "The Painter's Palette" by Ephel Duath (try is the key word). It may not be all that "good" in the proper sense of the musical term, but it's one of few albums that can be associated with scrambled brains, an academic mindfuck, ADHD, and being interrogated in a room full of guys with funny mustaches, all at the same time. It couldn't hurt, right?