We consider ourselves perched on the precipice of culture. Worshippers of the written word. Titans of tomes. Lovers of literature. We swarm the world with a voracious hunger cured only by sufficient mental and creative stimulation. We are in your office. We are in your schools. We may even be in your homes. You may even be one of us…
1. You actually completed an English degree.
Only a true bibliophile can survive 4-7 years of being told exactly how to interpret Finnegan’s Wake by a bearded, bespectacled man in a tweed jacket with leather elbow patches.
2. You actually started said English degree for reasons other than “Heathcliff is OMG HOT!”
And if you graduated with an English degree still thinking that Heathcliff is OMG HOT, then probably you should not go straight into a career. Probably you need to spend a brief stint in a mental institution.
3. Harold Bloom actually makes sense.
You will be a bibliophile for the ages if you actually develop a viable drinking game based on any of his works. English majors around the world will erect a statue in your honor. Assuming they actually have the money for it, which they don’t.