Aborted Launch

The rapid convergence of queer theory and disability studies over the past few years has been nothing short of extraordinary. Robert McRuer

My interview with the PhD from the Bay area was humorous to the extent that I had a fecal gas attack and she did not know I left her hanging, drove to toilet, and only then resumed the interview. She had polio, hired me, did not get the grant proposal. I reacted in email, more frustrated than not, and she and I parted company. This came after the actress my former disability center siphoned into a WIMM grant. If I had written anything particularly vicious I would have remembered, and believe her affronted sense was due to the fact "she was trying to help." I cannot remember much else, even if I wanted to remain her protege. In terms of keeping a connection, I blew it. Inadvertently. Perhaps she succeeded in creating the educational paradigm she wished, and her students work for the usual spin doctors. I hope she succeeded, and perhaps found tenure at Berkeley, liberal mastiff.

Now the clincher: In came a lesbian with an MIT affiliation who offered to make me an online instructor for a course I really would have enjoyed doing. Resume sent, syllabus material developed, and while I waited, I might have been in the North Pole discovering fossilized hermaphrodites. I cried out into the darkness and finally, though I needed magic pliers to get it out of the woman, discovered her department never had the money. She "just wanted to help." 

This is not mutual empowerment through shared matriculation, sorry. In my book, pipe dreams are just that, and this forms a part of why I am more angry at the activists themselves than I am with the ambulatory majority.