Don't apply if you can't get in; can't get in if you don't apply.

FLAME ON

Officially, I am stupid. I didn’t get great grades at University, nor during any of my other schooling. I graduated from University with a final average grade of 15.2 out of 20. This is, in the UK system, a solid Second Class, First Division degree. It is likely that, because of this degree, I will not be able to pursue a Master’s degree; this mark is, also, evidence that I should not pursue such a degree: I am, surely, not capable of performing according to the requirements of higher education.

I bring this up because I was looking at a Master’s program in cultures littéraires européennes (European literary cultures) taught collaboratively between several European universities. I could apply, but my application would be thrown away because of the grades I got in my bachelor’s. The program expects a score of 100 out of 110 on the Italian system, which is nearly perfect. The admissions site says, “if the application does not satisfy these requirements, it will not be taken into consideration.” Essentially, if you didn’t get a top-tier final grade from your undergraduate, don’t waste the Selection Board’s time by applying: they won’t read your application.

So I don’t think I’m stupid: do you? But I’m not a scholar; I never have been, simply becuase my brain is too weak to focus on a subject. I am pasisonate about one thing, then another, then another. I can see what the speculative fiction of the 1920s and the cyberpunk of the 1980s have to do with technological developments and our everyday lives; I understand their relationship with the music I listen to, the clothes I wear, the photos I take; I know that this blog is part of it all. Could I explain it to anyone else? No, not yet, though I’m trying. But none of that matters, because I couldn’t figure out what the professors’ expectations were during my undergraduate: I’ll never have the formal opportunity to learn or study what I want to, becuase, officially, I am stupid.

FLAME OFF

In other news, I got a job: I teach English at a small language school in Bologna. The classes are small, the staff is supportive, and the students are eager. And most importantly, I get to live in Italy. Comme disent les français, “il y a de pire”, et l’alimentation, c’est “pas mal de tout”. French is a beautiful language, isn’t it? Now, I get to learn Italian, which is its own beautiful tongue. And unlike French and English, the orthography is very “shallow”, which is a delightful technical term meaning that the spelling is a reasonably simple representation of how the word is pronounced, and the pronounciation is a reasonably good guide to the spelling. French and English, on the other hand, have “deep” orthographies, which is a polite way of saying “fucking nightmarish”.