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Having a bad week is a normal state of affairs for humans and animals alike. Annoying crap keeps us on our toes, but I don’t know how it is going to make the rest of my week better as I have to share a small office with another postgrad student whom I find annoying, arrogant and, frankly, a goddamn know it all. It’s the sort of week where I have moments feeling as though I hate everything. And I mean everything. The best way I can describe it is that it’s like experiencing bursts of existential crises.
I’m not one to discuss academic things during my lunch breaks. You can usually find me reading some slash horror novel or something completely unrelated to my research, but no, Mr Know-It, wants to discuss modern philosophers. In my darker mood, I entertain the idea of the male ego and how most modern philosopher’s are male because they have such an inflated view of their intellect. I mean, take a look at Peter Singer. So he wrote a book about the Animal Liberation. Has it really changed the fact that McDonald’s are profiting from Big Macs? No. If anything, it’s given a sector of no-lifers ammunition to harass meat eaters. I mean, don’t we get enough guilt from family, parents, lovers and religion? Why add an annoyingly arrogant male philosopher to that?
So when I voiced a similar view to Mr Know-It, he wiggled his bushy eyebrows in consternation. Oh lord, he thought. He had to share an office with me, squished up against the other wall with his new and shiny philosophy paperbacks, until they found a space for him.
But seriously, am I the only female who finds the majority of males in philosophy unnerving? If they’re not male, then they’re -there’s no other nicer way to say it – a little pervy and male, like Foucault. Where are the women in philosophy? I have to admit, I haven’t really investigated that aspect, but lately I’ve considered the reasons behind my lowered libido. A lot of academic males are a bit…well…unappealing to me. If they’re not arrogant to the gills, they’re annoying. If they’re not annoying, they’re like Mr Know-It.
I wonder if Mr Know-It knows how to find the G-Spot.
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