A thing about a thing

Herein I attempt to coherently express my enormous enthusiasm for a book and almost succeed: canlit.ca/article/the-engaged-classroom/. There's one particular sentence construction in there that I might term a doozy, but most of it seems to make some kind of sense.

I've enthused about Learn, Teach, Challenge here in the past, so this is more of that.

I no longer write many reviews for publication¹ because of a) writing anxiety so monumental it is visible from space, and b) creeping jealousy that I am writing about the thing instead of writing the thing myself. However,² attempting academic reviews once a year or so means that I tackle works of criticism I wouldn't otherwise have known about / organized myself to read. This is a lucky thing: free smart books and compulsory thinking time.

I'm just the worst, though, re: every cliche about academic writers -- always late and shimmering with insecurity.

I fell over several deadlines with this review, and wasn't satisfied with it even when I gave up and flung it at the editors, but I think they must have done some sort of editing magic, because now I kind of like it.

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1. Which is not to say that I ever wrote a lot of reviews, but I used to write them for the local paper and a local arts website.

2. In looking for some comparative readings on grammar, I was paging through an old Strunk & White and discovered that it advised against the above usage of "however." Wherefore? On the grounds that "however" should be understood as used in a phrase like "however they plan to accomplish the task."

However, it seems clear to me that the contemporary "however" is a contracted version of something like "however that may be" and therefore of perfectly reasonable lineage even if the older meaning remained central (which, however, it does not, at least not in North America).

I rehearse old grammar fights as some replay classic chess games.

Watch your giant cat energy

Have been making up for lost time re: viewing of RuPaul's Drag Race.

Hence yesterday I was walking home listening to Katy Perry's "Roar" and imagining a cat-themed drag act to it. (It is a very moving act. You would cry and applaud wildly.)

The landlords have recently added a small rescue dog to the family and he is a sweet being who always greets me with silent enthusiasm and hopeful looks at the gate and a funny little tongue thput.

As I entered the yard I was silently singing along to the chorus and attempting to manifest Giant Cat Energy, you know, like, Lion Aura.

Otherwise peaceful dog quite reasonably started barking.

The landlady kept apologizing and saying she didn't know what had gotten into him. I did not feel up to explaining that it was my fault for turning into a lion at an inopportune moment.

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