Sup(p)er work, Dr Ben

It's hard, you know, and this diary has occasionally hinted at how hard it can be.

Postgraduate study, that is, not being a celebrity.

It's not rocket science.

Though — on occasion — it can be.

I've decided to bail and feel much better for it, but plenty of people soldier on, sacrificing a great deal, including their sanity, their friends, their ability to communicate, their ability to sleep, their ability to do anything but work, their ability to eat, their ability to earn a decent wage, their ability to have any sort of decent career path after their studies et cetera.

So when someone actually makes it to the end, it is time to put down your pens, walk into that unknown expanse known as "outside", raise your arms aloft and sing great praises to the big academic journal in the sky, often accompanied by a whooping cry of

Halle-fucking-lujah.

In fact, I've just got back from doing such a thing, because my great postgraduate companion, Mr (soon to be Dr) Ben Supper, has finished writing-up his thesis, and with it his PhD. Whilst he has been finishing his work and I've been busy leaving mine, Ben and I have lost contact somewhat, but this — and I hope you don't mind my using the diary for this purpose, dear reader — is my way of getting things back on track.

Thus, my heartfelt congratulations go to Ben, along with an invite for a coffee at our usual drinking house of Sorrento (a purely imaginary coffee at that, Ben — ed.).

For anyone interested in the art of sadmasochism, Ben's progress over the last few months can be found on his website. Other than that, all that needs to be stated is what kept Ben going over the entire ~21 years of his formal education, in his own words:

The hat.

You see, PhD graduates wear a special hat during the degree ceremony: a squashy, fuzzy black hat. It’s even sillier than the mortar board that everybody else gets, and it’s got a far better tassle. When I hand in my dissertation, crash through my viva, and leave this place in a blaze of anticlimax in a few months’ time, I’m going to look bloody great. Sod the future. For me, higher education is definitely about the headgear.