I turned in my signed dissertation to the library today. They took it.
I am told there used to be a ritual in the early days of the Southern
California Beach Universities. When a PhD turned in his dissertation,
the members of his lab would gather on a SoCal beach on a warm
evening. Breezes blowing in their hair, they would solemly toast the
sunset, light a bonfire, and proceed to get themselves truly,
stunningly drunk.
Late that night, as they danced around the fire, they would stack
dissertation parapenalia on a small wooden raft. Old paper drafts,
rejected library prints, schedules and printouts and calendars and
critiques and door comics would all be stacked on a the flimsy bark.
At midnight, a virgin (or, according to some sources, a live chicken)
would be attached to the raft. All those around would ceremonially
pour their drinks onto the pile, a torch from the bonfire would be
touched to the alcohol-soaked documents, and six first-year grad
students would bring the raft over the waves and into a riptide which
would carry it deep into the ocean.
As the burning knowledge drifted over the horizon and gradually sank,
the assembled group would drink once more to the assembled flaming
wisdom, and to the memory of first-year grad students who couldn't
swim.
Unfortunately, those days are long since over. Beaches close at 10 pm.
Cruelty to animals laws prevent us from burning a chicken. And some
dissertations never see a printer.
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So let's discard antiquated--and, indeed--fictional ritual. It's time for the
"RUNNING DANYEL OUT OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA ON A RAIL PARTY"
If you want to join us (this Saturday night, Orange County), email me for information.
August 25, 2004 01:00 AM | TrackBack | in Dissertation