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Writing about Writing

The Rhetorical Uprising

Although I was initially hesitant to submit this post to UCWbLing due to the odd format I’m using (it’s quite different from the usual reflective or research-based posts published here), I’ve decided I’d like to share it. This is more or less a free-association exercise regarding some key phrases and words about tutoring at the UCWbL. Mostly, I just played with language, which I feel is kind of the higher point, if there is one, of the post in general. It was interesting to write and I hope you find this creatively-geared piece interesting to read as well. 

The wonderful world of tutoring is not limited, we must remember. The WWT is ever-expanding to a place near you. The tutors of all tutorly garbs and political alignments are waiting–waiting for a headlong escape into your documents and theses, and your documentaries and antitheses, and your theories of the big bang-esque modern science, etc. They stand awaiting your chat-with-a-tutor messages with the collective fervor of a frenzied jungle cat, and you stand awaiting their responses to your non-sequiturs of the modern markets with equal anxiety and, potentially, anger.

The wonderful world of online appropriation/appreciation resides in the form of day old bagels and coffee. It is the UCWbL par excellence, and it’s excellent in nature. The inservice servants wait in the servitude of spurious servility–they are the willing and linguistically able. The WC brother/sister/otherwise-unafilliated-gendered-person-hood is the last will and testament to the modern reconnaissance of the academic spirit. They are firmly willed and tempered, and fiestily temperate this time of year.

Tutors are as tutors do, fruitfully, as tutoring tutorly tasks for “Yours truly”‘s and icy sub-compliments embedded in The Art of the Ruthless Critique and Rhetorical Whimsy: Unabridged. The edificial task of academic freedom is alive in these fingers. And those fingers, and all fingers tapping mercilessly on UCWbLian laptop keys. It is a metropolitical hub of the postmodern ideal alive in these very social strata. And it’s also just words. Words, Karen.