Greed and Confusion; Murders and Executions

Yesterday I still knew what I wanted.

I don't anymore today.

The basics are still there of course - PhD, then lecturing somewhere, and maybe sometime in my life do some other masters like Criminal Law or Forensic Linguistics or something, and perhaps also do something politics like Ministry of Justice or so. But this is all long term.

I'm currently confused as to the 'where' of the PhD. Until this morning I was certain of Cardiff - I like Cardiff, I want Cardiff, I need Cardiff, and that need still has not changed because the opportunities Cardiff offers haven't changed. It's still perfect.

But then there is also that one Leicester PhD with the Graduate Teaching Assistantship. It has a salary. And waives UK/EU tuition fees. And has a maintenance stipend. And teaching opportunities.

I've always liked going to different places for the next stage - but Leicester, as a city, is growing on me, and the GTA would mean I wouldn't have to spend three years eating nothing but baked beans on toast. I might even be able to start paying off my student debts and stop feeling guilty about always buying books.

Money. It's about money, and now I feel greedy. Aren't academics, like artists, supposed to more or less starve for their calling? After all, didn't Socrates go around wearing rags because he couldn't care less?
And at Cardiff I could do my corporate crime thing. I'm not sure whether I could do that at Leicester.

WHAT SHOULD I DO?

Difficult.



On a completely unrelated note (except that maybe it counts as research), I have been reading American Psycho. I liked the superficiality and the idea that Patrick Bateman goes totally mad. It surprised me how disturbing I found the torture and murder scenes. Gory things usually don't upset me - heck, I'm even looking forward to the Forensics class where we'll be told about and shown photos of crime scenes. But there is something distinctly upsetting about sticking a drill in someone's mouth while it's on and keeping rotting breasts on a porcelain dish, something that goes too far even for me. Not sure whether I'd want to read it again, maybe I'll just stick to the film.

Because at least the gory of the film is the type of gory I don't mind. And the business card scene is priceless.

But the film doesn't have as many references to Les Miserables, which I think is a major thing in the interpretation of the novel...