Throwback: Sierra's Fifth Circle of Hell - Citations

Written August 15, 2010

I'd like to start by referring back to my last post...

"It's surprising how, the moment you get out of your car to investigate the road block, the block disappears. And it's surprising how, when you think about it (or have it pointed out to you, as the case may be), your respect for yourself actually grows."

However, the question is whether or not to let that respect define you. Should I be happy with myself because of all the other considerations that cannot have come in exactly the same combination into someone else's life? Or should I put that imaginary base up for myself round about where everyone else's is, and try and measure up?

The heavy stuff left behind, I shall move onto my increasing discomfort with the fact that I just copied, verbatim, a whole damn paragraph from my previous post without citing it!!!!

This, ladies and gentlemen is yet another aspect of life at law school - the writing of research papers, and the horrible concept of citation.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not supporting plagiarism. It's just that I'm ready to put in a disclaimer at the beginning of my paper avowing that absolutely nothing in my paper is original, that every single word has been lifted from someone else, and be done with it. Hell, I'd put a disclaimer at the beginning and end of each damn page if you wanted me to. But trust me, putting little funny numbers at the end of each bloody sentence and then writing in detail, the name of the guy who wrote the article (may he forever be damned to the 5th circle of hell), the name of his article (may it be plagiarized till the end of time) and the damn paragraph, word and line in which the damn idea you lifted is hinted at...

Just the very thought of it exhausts me all over again.

Of course, what you're reading is the after effect of another four day marathon project submission. And what I've figured is that project writing, and all that researching, and even the citations, are actually quite fun to do. Except when you're running low on sleep, food, intelligent conversation and you're still running late with the submission.

Imagine this. It's 5 minutes to 5 o'clock - submission time. You've just finished typing and have pressed Ctrl + S for the last fucking time. You close your eyes and wish fervently that you never have to look at another article about low cost airlines again. You try not to think about the project you spent 4 days on, which still lacks a point to it. You open your eyes and reach for the pen- drive on the table... and it's gone.

You try to open your Gmail account so you can save it as a draft or something and get it printed at the net cafe. Gmail takes 8 minutes to open. Whoever declared it the foremost email service?
You send yourself an email with your project attached to it. Then you whip out your cell phone, call up the ever reliable Zee.

"I have project submissions in about three minutes, and I need to keep talking so my brain doesn't turn into a Jelly of Panic. Help!!!!"

She talks you all the way to the print shop. You tell her you'll call her back after you get it printed. You open your Gmail (substantially faster here, thank God!!!) and give the command for Print. Then you realize you have no cash on you, so you run all the way to the ATM while the document is printing, and get a couple of hundred bucks. The receipt shows that yes, your account has been credited with 5 grand. At least you know you're not gonna starve for the rest of the month.

You run back, and your document is nowhere in sight. After a moment of confusion bordering on panic, the assistant gestures you to a sheaf of papers stacked neatly on the table. "Bind?" ("No, sautee, please.") "Yes, bind."

She binds it, and with a sigh of relief, you hand over the 100 buck note. It takes her a full 5 minutes to realize that, no, she does not have change. You snatch the note out of her hand and run to Shop No. 1 on the Left. Change? Nope. Shop No. 2 on the Left. Nope. Shop No. 3 on the Left. Nope. No more shops to the Left. Run to Shop No. 1 on the Right. Nope. Shop No. 2 on the Right (The Laundry Shop) takes a full 5 minutes of sorting through someone else's clothes before your impatient tongue clicking gets the message across. A glorious sight to see: 100 bucks in change. You grab it, go back, pay, grab your neatly bound project, and reach for the phone so Zee can talk you all the way back to the Exam Department.

Your phone's not there.

What?

Oh, yes. Because, of course, this is exactly what you need at the moment.

Search your pockets 5 times. Run inside the shop and ask the assistant whether she has seen a phone. No, of course she hasn't. Why would anything be that easy at this point?

Run to Shop No. 1 on the Left. Have you seen a phone? Huh??? A PHONE??? No. Shop No. 2 on the Left? No. Shop No. 3 on the Left? No. No more shops on the Left. The shops on the Right haven't even heard of phones. Thank God for small blessings.

Fortunately for me, a batchmate whose brains hadn't turned into Jelly of Panic called my cell, and it buzzed from inside the cafe. The assistant returned it to me with a 'happy to help' smile, and I run back to the Exam Department, talking about the most banal of things with Zee (may she be blessed forever for being the angel she is). The sympathetic lady** at the Exam Department frowns at the clock-- I'm 45 minutes late. I tell her a cock- and- bull story about having had to go to the doc's ("Just got my plaster removed, ma'am"). I wave my fingers in her face and mentally thank my stars that I'd been a blockhead and removed my plaster because it was bugging me. She gives me the standard 'next time-last time' warning I've been hearing right from upper kindergarten. I give her a smile that looks like the Pepsodent and Close-Up Smiles just mated, drop my project, sign and run for my life. Zee and I laugh hysterically all the way back to Chetta's as she tells me about P.S. I Love You. Which is a movie and book I should eventually get around to watching and reading.

Another project submission over. Close your eyes and watch the world black out.

And now, it's time for room check. Thank you for reading, and don't have nightmares about citations. It's bad enough that I do.

**The fact that Padma has been referred to as "sympathetic" here shows exactly how naive I used to be. 🤣🤣