Thanks to numerous people who have been posting these, I have recently discovered “lol my thesis.” It is a Tumblr blog where students from different institutions around the world try to sum up their entire graduate thesis (either MA or PhD) in one sentence for everyone’s amusement. You end up with things like “This one writer was influenced by this other writer, and it is true,” or “If you write sonnets, you may or may not be in love, like these guys here.” My favorite: “This paper will prove that you can write a 200 page thesis on a 100 page book.”

I decided to do the same thing with the papers I have written since undergrad. I rifled through whatever files I still have to refresh my memory, and here is a list of some of my favorite papers, in a nutshell.

Birds make terrible choices.

Lucio’s class is questionable.

O’Neill had some serious issues.

Orpheus should not have looked behind him, but he did, and this happened.

Mariana totally knew what she was doing.

Marvell was a genius, except no one figured it out for a really long time.

Milton liked to write about the moon.

Lear behaved like a five year old.

Ophelia wasn’t really crazy.

Pinter was the British Nabokov.

Dostoevsky may or may not have had anger issues.

Portia was a manipulative bitch but still got a happy ending.

Donne wrote a lot of poetry, and here are a few pieces.

Hardy’s heroines wear white gloves… oooooohhhh.

Eve was a smart cookie.

Richard II was a total drama queen.

Stoppard was hilarious, no really.

Coleridge wrote about the imagination.

Did I mention Coleridge wrote about the imagination, because he did.

Coleridge and the Secondary Imagination, which is way better than the primary one.

This play would have been so much better if Caliban didn’t exist.

Coleridge used his imagination a lot, so did Keats, and they didn’t like each other.

I am going to write a paper on postmodernism for your class because you are making me, but I don’t like it, so I am going to make up a lot of stuff and make it sound fancy.

Cloud Atlas has a lot of repetition.

Spivak, eh?…. um.. blah, blah, blah, blah….

Caleb Williams went to prison a lot.

The Last Man was a post apocalyptic novel.

The Bible has some really messed up things in it.

Bradbury was making a point about society.

Orwell was making a point about society.

Huxley was making a point about society.

Ginsberg was original.

And my favorite: Chaucer had terrible editors.