Chapter 37 another sorrow

Scholars and writers, in today's so-called academic literary world, can no longer "keep their eyes on the garden and stay at home" like the ancients.First, long-distance calls across oceans and continents, and then faxes and letters are sent immediately.Under the shadow of the deadline, you feel anxious and apprehensive, and you really have trouble sleeping and eating, and you start to write your thesis. It is the hidden worry of being picked on by others, or even being besieged. The horror often stops in the dream. The deadline has finally arrived, and even passed.Miraculously, your dissertation was sent, flying through the air with many irrelevant letters.Soon you too are flying in the air, crowded with many irrelevant passengers.

Airport, bus, hotel, keys, meal coupons, invitations, you're finally here.Then you find yourself holding a glass of cocktail or juice, the nomads generally "stand by water and grass" in the lobby of the welcome reception.In fact, the crowds are like water, and you are just a piece of duckweed, meeting other "VIPs" by chance.You falter between jostling and jostling, worrying about knocking or being knocked over.One hand has to hold the wine glass tightly, and the other hand has to constantly adjust between the dinner plate and the "hand of friendship".And to pick out business cards, you need a third hand.When the people and shadows are intertwined and the time difference is trance, you catch a glimpse of a beautiful scorpion emerging in the distance, waiting to chase after the chaos. Cut it off, rob it.So we paid homage to each other for a long time, exchanged business cards, guaranteed contact, and even introduced all the friends who happened to be around us one by one in a grand and solemn manner.When he turned his head again, the man was no longer in the dimly lit place.Wang Bo has long said about this kind of grand occasion: "When you take a ten-day break, there are like clouds of victorious friends; thousands of miles are welcome, and the house is full of friends." It seems that it has become less important, and even the second and third enemies in the academic world seem a little kinder.

When the meeting actually took place, many scholars, although famous, were not as famous as they were when they spoke.A common phenomenon in academia is that good ideas may not necessarily be well written, and good writing may not necessarily speak well.The ancients said "Brilliant heart embroidered mouth", in fact, it should be discussed in three paragraphs, that is, "Brilliant heart" does not necessarily mean "color pen", and "color pen" does not necessarily mean "embroidered mouth".Therefore, if the thesis needs to be read out, if the scholar’s ​​articulation is inaccurate, the sentences cannot be read clearly, the local accent does not change, and the four tones are not distinguished; If the ear is hard to follow, the brocade heart will inevitably be greatly reduced, and the color of the colored pen will also be reduced.

Large-scale seminars and the like are actually a kind of mass occasion. No matter how profound the paper is, no matter how grand the reading is, it is advisable to give more examples, occasionally use metaphors, or pretend to be shocking, or intersperse one or two jokes, and come to "" The Divergence of Comedy".If you keep on reading, besides dullness, there will be several evil consequences: the slow-response audience will turn over and over again, trying to find out where you have read.Those who respond quickly have already surpassed you in one glance and ten lines, and have finished reading it soon, so I don't need to listen to you anymore.Some of the rest just feel distraught, simply push the paper away, and go dreaming in the trance of jet lag or insomnia.A friend once said: The seminar is a good place to catch up on sleep.Moreover, he added, one person on the stage talking to himself just happened to hypnotize the audience.This wicked remark is reminiscent of a certain play by Wilde's entertaining colleague Pineiro, saying that it taught him "the best play I've ever slept through" (the best play I've ever slept through).

In addition, there are two disturbing things in the venue: one is the soul-destroying timing bell, and the other is the ear-destroying microphone.The timing bell is lightly tapped by a girl's slender fingers, and the sound is pleasant to the ear, but when it reaches the ears of the person concerned, it is earth-shattering and becomes an alarm bell for the old man of time, warning him that the deadline is coming.This is the incarnation of the deadline, the deadline is not a long date, but a hasty minute and second, which can be called dead9-minute.When the warning sounded, time seemed to jerk.The vigilant party made a decisive decision and reined in the precipice.Almost knew that the general situation was over, and had no intention of fighting, and ran away after a few rounds.Encountering numb or domineering ones, turning a deaf ear to the series of alarm bells, completely indifferent to the rent collection and debt collection of time, it is almost immortal.At this time, the chairman had already turned his neck and head, staring at him covetously.Everyone in the audience was even more restless, and they could only yell at him to step down. "There are such ignorant people in the world!" The next speaker cursed in his heart, and turned his head to glare at Du Fu.After a century, Dufu finally stopped.Freed from eternal torment, the masses are incapable of anger, only gratitude.

The microphone is the key to the success or failure of the audience.A good microphone is weak when it is weak, and strong when it is strong. It is actually innocent.It's a pity that more than half of the Chiji Toasts didn't know how to treat it. They didn't leave it alone and just talked to themselves, making all their ears stand up like police dogs.It is over-reuse, put it on the mouth, like licking a cone, more like blowing the horn of warning, causing all ears to be thundered and hard to avoid.Americans call stage fright in front of the microphone Mike Fright.On the contrary, the speaker who reused the microphone just focused on killing and screaming at it, and the audience was so piercing and deaf, the microphone turned into a microphone madness, driving people crazy.Finally, the microphone blast finally stopped, the universe suddenly restored its tranquility, and the audience resumed their own breathing rhythm.

The timing bell jingled, the microphone boomed, and the seminar had been "successfully concluded".When the house is full of guests, the romance will be scattered, and the sorrow will suddenly arise.The "sorrow of parting" in a large international conference refers to something else, not a heavy love, but a heavy book.It turns out that I have just packed my luggage, and besides my thesis manuscripts, I can't help but bring some books, which are nothing more than my new books, so that I can exchange them with my classmates and friends.Every time I naively comfort myself: "When the delivery is over, the return trip will be easy." Unexpectedly, the enthusiastic friend sent more books, plus twenty or thirty papers, I don't know how many kilograms.Seeing that the shoulders are sore and the hands are about to be lifted again, thinking of the book disaster in the study at home, I have to take this batch of books back.

It would be unwise to take this huge pile of heavy tomes home, and it would be unkind not to take them home.Just throw it in the hotel and walk away?Too heartless, right?Those who lose people's books are also lost.Think about it, do you have the heart to end up at the bottom of the trash can in a foreign country with your own heart-wrenching work that you gave to others?Not to mention the crystallization of the soul, that is, how many beautiful trees were sacrificed in papermaking.Since it can be mentioned, it should not be put down.So it was a rewarding experience.