I have a post scheduled to go live early tomorrow morning at Chicagoist. It’s about the upcoming Chicago International Film Festival and I’m guessing it’ll be on the provocative side. Won’t say more about it now, but I hope it roils things up a little.

Andy is deep in his grad school homework today. Lord, I am glad I’m not in grad school. The more I find out about the whole thing, the more it reminds me of the funeral industry. That is, it’s this absurdly complex, expensive structure in place that’s designed to take advantage of people who have no choice: if you want to bury someone or get a grad degree, you have to play the games and shell out the bucks. And there’s nothing you can do it about it. Grad school seems to revolve around forcing you to read a bunch of crap and spew forth a bunch of busywork; in other words, quantity trumps quality every single damn time. Rather than letting you digest anything, we’ll just force-feed you week after week. Carb loading is great before a marathon, but eating daily well-balanced meals is better for your long-term health.

Okay, there’s a reason why Dickens’ novels were so long: he was paid by the word. But is Being There any less amazing just because it’s less than 150 pages? Of course not. So why do grad school professors always seem obsessed with quantity, making you read 8-10 articles when probably just 2 well-chosen ones would be just fine? Forcing you to buy 8 really expensive textbooks when maybe just 2 would do the trick?

Does constant activity = learning? Hogwash. Learning comes when you take in information and then reflect on it.  I want no part of grad school.