LIT. CRIT. -- R.I.P. Lit. crit has become more fully involuted. Its apostles maintain that the author is dead, the text-function is a plot to preserve illicit privilege -- and "meaning" ia an ambiguous social construction of no more than sardonic interest. Theory itself has grown too esoteric to be of any viable use. They say, "Derrida knows things!" "Deconstructionism is rife with wisdom!" Well, I ask, "Is true knowledge passé?" And: "Is genuine intelligence a liability these days?" You can wave goodbye to "meaning" as well. Let's consider the University English Lit Departments (from which I extricated myself 25 years ago, in a state of utter dismay & great relief).... Specifically, the Master's Degree Program's Exam: Two days, a few marginally relevant questions. The panel says, "Okay, you essentially know this stuff." Then, it's done! You don't even get to flex your argumentative skills. The whole English Lang. & Lit. profession has become a total pyramiding scheme. The entire process of gaining a post-grad degree is such an intellectually demeaning bilking. The Eng. Lit. Dept. is an entrenched class-conscious society: The dept. tenured-for-life superstars snobbishly lord it over their minor tenured colleagues, who in turn saddle all the junior faculty with crap-work. The latter take their anger & resentment out on the senior grads, who have no time for the master's candidates -- the latter people, finally, hold the undergrads in utter contempt. And that's not even mentioning the nonacademic staff! The foregoing thoughts gestated in my mind about six months ago, and were ultimately induced to birth by the account in the New York Observer which provided an informative, snarky overview of the recent MLA convention in Manhattan. Trust me, enough said....