Juxtaposed ‘tween Granite and an Unenviable Position
Writing essays proves to be the most dull and fruitless job ever. This is of course, when unsupplemented by anything that is almost, yet not quite, unlike writing essays, such as everyday speech. The first line implies two things – first implication: writing essays is an actual job; while, strictly speaking, such jobs do exist as might be construed to be merely writing essays, such jobs often find themselves outside the realm of dull; second implication: writing essays is fruitless and dull; this may not be true either, but merely an assumption by a presumptuous author subjected to too many essays, now trying to make a point. In short, the central implication of the statement is not implied at all, it merely ought to be. What it implies is that, when writing essays, one is, in fact, a high school student. This too, is false; yet it is clear, or ought to be anyway, to anyone who has been through a public school system that it is, by no means, entirely untrue either.
The reason I say this is that high school students find themselves writing more essays in the four years they attend their respective high schools than anyone not a college professor of anthropology ought to. A reasonable explanation for this might be that these same professors created the essay system for kicks. However, as Occam’s razor demands, simple answers are best. Therefore, to answer this question simply, clearly the teachers who assign essays, wrote similar essays when students themselves. Papers beget papers, as it were. Rather, this is simple until you follow the logical path down the line and ask, “Who assigned the first essay?” At this point, simple is akin to five-dimensional spatial geometry, with the problem at hand several standard magnitudes more difficult to solve. The answer is somewhat surprising. Some nut, somewhere along the line, put quill to paper (who knows, maybe even chisel to stone) and out came the world’s first essay. The guy (in those days it was, invariably, a guy) looked at it and said that’s a great idea, I should have my apprentice do one of those! Thus, the student essay was born.
Student essays are, if you will indulge in some over-the-top logic, the logical conclusion of the essay form. I recall one particular essay in fourth grade that we wrote on the uses of a stick. Indeed, yes, a stick. This was especially frustrating because, aside from being fourth graders, our teachers forced us to use the hamburger format, a ridiculous invention that crammed children’s developing intellects into the most constraining form of essay possible. With the hamburger format, the author of an essay, almost certainly a student, must bend and force his words into a meager limit of five paragraphs that must contain the meat of his essay. There are good things to be said about the hamburger format. It contains a beginning and end, the buns, and three middle sections, lettuce, tomato, and patty. This is overlooking, of course, the glorious fact that all hamburgers go well with catsup and mustard. A much as I hate it, I can not begrudge teachers for using the hamburger format. It does, after all, teach the fundamentals of essay writing, a skill students will use until they get out of college – beyond if they choose to be professors of anthropology (God knows why).
The high school level, though, expects better of its students, or at least its teachers. As brains become, theoretically, more mature, so do, theoretically, the assignments. Neither of these are, by any stretch of the imagination, constant rates of change. Much to the contrary, they often do not change at all. This is most markedly found in essays for standardized tests, but that is the subject of an entirely different 500 to 750 words.
Speaking of which, there is another odd, but completely understandable restriction to be found in essays – the number of words. Though quite restrictive upon students writing essays, this cap on words allows for less strain on the teacher having to read some untold and frightening number of poorly written, slap-dash, ungainly constructions of badly mangled sentence structure barely holding together a coherent idea, if that. On top of this, the teacher must deal with smart aleck responses to the topic such as the one portrayed in this very conglomeration of letters that you, the reader, now hold in your hands. I must admit, it is not often that I write such satirical pieces. Usually they stem from a lack of time, sleep, or ideas. How incredibly paradoxical when one considers the thought that must go in to humour, especially that of the dry variety...
Pardon the ellipsis; that was 750 words. Every word extra is a word over the limit. Thank you.
As I am wont to do, I apparently have wandered off subject.
Let us recap for brevity. Essays are a never-ending perpetuation of papers. Student essays represent the logical conclusion of the essay form. I don’t often write satirical papers.
Now that the theme has been recouped, I move on. Student essays are, in their platonic ideological form, a tool by which teachers judge a student’s skill in the craft of word-smithing, the temperament of the student towards writing essays, and the ability of the student to follow instructions. For good or ill, the previous wasted paper ought to have proved those criteria. If not, furthers essays will be required. I expect they will be assigned anyway.
P.S. Since the revision, the ellipsis no longer cuts off at 750 words. Now the cut off is at 788. For continuity and purpose, however, the number in the text was left unchanged.
P.P.S. (Fun Fact: this paper contains, including post scripts, 967 words)













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