Oxford’s most comprehensively alienated student sounds the battle cry against the monstrous tutorial regime.
There’s something in Oxford which people shy away from far too often, afraid to confront the oppressive reality of tutorials. They are just so symbolic of everything that is wrong with society, the world and the very nature of thought.
Tutorials are problematic, right? I mean they pretty much exemplify everything that’s wrong with our notions of time and thought. The fact the tutor is without a doubt ‘older’ and therefore supposedly more experienced reinforces this absurd linear notion of time. And what even is this valuable ‘experience’ of theirs? Just reading books written by stale, pale males, it seems. Have they ever cried at the sight of grass trying to grow through concrete? Have they been refused dinner at hall because they’ve just turned vegan? Have they worn a shapeless sack for a week, because clothes perpetuated the gender binary? Really, who are they to judge me? They just totally discredit my personal contribution to the ether and what my experience as a femwom means. Aristotelian logic has done nothing to help me in my decision to dye my arm pit hair purple, so how great can it be?
‘But I have a young, female tutor’ I hear you cry. Eurgh, of course you do, you brain washed automaton. That’s just what the patriarchy wants you to say! I mean do I really need to spell this out? Academia itself is a construct of the male brain. I don’t think periods have been mentioned once throughout the duration of my degree. Well, I suppose they have been mentioned, but only when this word was appropriated to signify sections of time. Not only are we expected to maintain this capitalist illusion of the social construct of ‘time’. But also use the theft of the female reproductive system to preserve this ridiculous artifice. We are all forced to live in one uniform conception of linear time. So literally every ‘second’ of every ‘hour’ of every ‘day’ we are oppressed by the ticking clock (or should I say cock?).
It is also the apparent lack of time which the tutorial forces us to acknowledge, which perpetuates the oppressive nature of time. Is there ever enough time to do enough work for these ceaseless slave-drivers (or ‘tutors’ as they prefer to be known)? No. Obviously not. We are forced into a state of continuous dissatisfaction with our state of being; forced to think there is ‘not enough time’, when really there is just too much oppression. We spend hours reading supposed ‘academia’ and of course none of the authors are ‘women’. Women… what a ridiculous word. As if females are just men with a womb.
Somehow in this ridiculous set up that is the ‘tutorial’, the tutor is meant to pass on information to us (the ones without the knowledge); like some kind of colonial osmosis. But what is information? Surely we know that we can never know anything and we are all just defined by our experience and oppressions. So why do we keep up this ludicrous charade? Its all just playing some silly game for three or four years (another representation of the rigidity of temporal oppression) just to get some piece of paper at the end, demonstrating that we too subscribe to the illusion of time and information. Please. I can’t even.
So that’s why I don’t give a shit that my fucking misogynistic tutor wasn’t ‘pleased with my essay’. Do they not realise what I’m going through? I hardly got to meditate last week. And I’m pretty much the only person in Oxford fighting the patriarchy.