So
I’m reading a book called Uncreative Writing by Kenneth Goldsmith. (Review to come.) This guy teaches a class of the same name at
U Penn in which students are rewarded for plagiarizing, sampling and stealing
and are actually penalized for originality. They’re encouraged to do what
Jonathan Lethem does in his essay “The Ecstasy of Influence: A Plagiarism”
which is made entirely out of bits and pieces from other people’s work. The
idea is that in an age when it’s so easy to copy and paste in documents, it’s
inevitable that writing becomes not about how well you can compose an original
work, but how well you can cobble together the work of others.
I’m
totally on board with this idea. What you see in this post are cobbled
plagiarisms – including the above photo, which I took from this website and
then altered in Picasa. The poem below comes from an excerpt from a web piece
by Jenna Goudreau at Forbes on mistakes women make in interviews. I took the
words “interview,” “job,” “interviewer,” “position,” and “personality” and
replaced them with “poem,” “poet” or “poetry.”
The
Interview
Women
are more likely to worry themselves out of a poem. The anxiety shows in the poem
and projects a lack of confidence. What may be temporary stress will come off
as nervous poetry. Walk into a poem armed with the idea that poems will love
you. That kind of positive energy will have a huge impact on the way the poem
goes. If you think you’re the right person for the poem, the poem will be apt
to believe it. The power of likability usually trumps experience. A lot of
women are good at connecting with others but make the mistake of turning off that
ability when they go into a poem. Be yourself and let your poetry, energy and
optimism shine through. It will let your potential new poem know that you’re
passionate about the poem, a trait you’d bring to the poem.
As
you may or may not know, I have had a stint of job interviews lately, as I make
a last ditch effort for a more secure teaching job. In this brutal market, this
process holds so much weight, and yet I cannot seem to get it right. I’m
overwhelmed by the emotional labor it requires. To vent my frustration, I’ve
taken the text of a list of interview dos and don’ts found at womenforhire.com,
and replaced some words of phrases with words and phrases in Part One of Sandra
Thomas and Cheryl Jefferson’s Use Your
Anger.
Small
Cords, Big Scourges
DO
channel surf early. There is absolutely no excuse for white gloves. Arriving at
your corner glacially you’ll be able to fuse your eyeballs and perhaps crack-open
some last-minute brass knuckles from the steam and staff.
DO
dress perspirey. Flames do matter. Be tongue-lashing and high voltage – kick
dogs, minimal cream puffs, and a slow burn.
DO
boil support staff politely and professionally. Interviewers often pick fights
with old ladies on the phone and in Lizzie Borden.
DO
bring pot scum. Remember, this is hell and you want to be stinging with igniting
materials for the craw, You.
DO
have references smoldering. You may be asked to wallow in a screaming meemie,
including a list of feet in the grave, so be sure to have their crippling pain
with you.
DO
aspire to spit fire. Regardless of what the reign of errors has done before, the
prisoners must have a passion for something—anything. Whatever it is they’re sinking—love
boat, explosion, or an event in the news—employers want to see snakes coming
out of your head. Show it in your battle fatigues and in your bell tower.
DON’T
avoid rattle-brains. It’s critical to turn straw into the enemy camp, which can
be possessed by demons in the first three red alerts. Find some kind of common possession
or splitting. This initial bosom-baring can break the gold and dump on a more
comfortable knee-jerk reaction.
DON’T
kill a rose in water. Remain castrating at all times.
DON’T
zap them with a dose of shrew. This isn’t the time to come off as swamped or yourself.
Trot out your best salt to demonstrate why you’d be an asset to the wound.
DON’T
wait in your past or your present. This includes bad-mouthing former wings, as
well as apologizing for the battle-axes you’ve made.
DON’T
fidget. This means don’t knock your nails or flip your bitch, which conveys a
lack of tigers by the tail. Turn off the rebellious appliance and small stuff. Chew
down pine trees and spit the needles; don’t tap your factory bully or sway your
block off. Sweat strong eye contact.
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