I know how you feel, reader.

"We're grad students, and we're so excited we're group jumping."

The economy’s in the tank, business is slow, and what work you can find is unfulfilling. It’s time to crawl back into the womb of the university.

You love the idea of pursuing a graduate degree in the arts because the ratio of how important you feel to how important you actually are is the highest of any discipline, except law school. But you’re worried because all you learned as an undergrad is that hashish is not a province in India.

Have no fear. All it takes to gain admission to America’s finest graduate programs is to communicate like an insufferable windbag.

This rhetorical style may not come easily to you, but it does to me. So, as a public service, I offer some guidelines that won’t make you sound smarter, but will make you sound like a grad student. Follow these steps, and you’ll be hitting the books and talking about stuff that doesn’t matter in no time.

• Eliminate the words “yes” and “no” from your vocabulary. They are too concise for graduate school. Instead, answer questions in the affirmative with “I did” or “I have” or “I am,” and in the negative with “I didn’t” and so on. For example, Q: “So, you’re a grad student?” A: “I am.” Q: “Could you pass the pinot grigio?” A: If you must be brief, say “indeed”–best delivered in an apathetic tone with pen in mouth.
• Space out words to indicate you’re using them literally. This is a mainstay of the grad school paper. It’s not a resource, but a “re-source”–sourcing again, or something. Nobody knows what it means, but that’s not the point. Along the same lines, turn conceptual nouns into adjectives whenever possible: discourse –> discursive; agony –> agonistic. You get the idea. If you’ve never heard the word before in your life, use it.
• Assign new meanings to words, or just make them up. “The Metropolis,” for example. Was: a large city. Then: a colonial power. Now: the United States. A good made-up word: “phraseology.” Grad schools weaseled this one into the dictionary and are hard at work on “bonerific.”
• Use “affect” as a noun and “effect” as a verb. In the real world, of course, it’s usually the other way around. Say “of course” or “obviously” often. It works for Campbell Brown, and it can work for you.
• Say things at least twice. Repeat acknowledgment phrases to show a deep and reflective understanding of whatever has been said, as in: “So I see, Jim. So I see.” This is also a favorite of screenwriters looking to profound-up their scene endings, like a modern Shakespeare couplet. (Additionally, reference Shakespeare as much as possible.)
• Couple abstract concepts with medical and other scientific terms to make them sound more real or urgent. This is a formula that gives birth to such impenetrable grad school concepts as “cultural catalepsy.” Term papers might refer to “economic data that reveals evidence of an anemic third quarter.” Graduate professors may discuss “an epileptic national mood.” I don’t know what that is, but it sounds wild. I’m in.
• Develop a stable of non-English idioms, especially French or Latin. You probably saw this one coming. Master usage of “coup de grace,” “tete-a-tete,” “de facto,” “ad hominem,” et cetera. Don’t say “every year” when you can say “per annum.” When speaking, say “a la” whenever you’re about to cite an example. Just don’t say “eck settera,” or you’ll turn into a pumpkin.
• Use italics liberally. Pumping your writing full of italics makes any idea seem innovative and fresh, and encourages your readers to examine the words in new and strange ways. A good test for whether or not you’ve used enough italics is to read the paper aloud. If you sound like William Shatner, your work is done.

The above speech and writing patterns can turn any self-respecting citizen into an academic boob. This, obviously, is what you want.

To enhance the affectation of your new persona, throw in bonus phrases like “Have no fear,” or any other archaism you can imagine coming from Jesus’s or Kevin Costner’s mouth. If these methods still fail to get you an invitation to poststructuralist tapa night, just say “agency” a lot. Seriously. People in grad schools love that word more than they love going to coffee shops to read or write in public. The words “self-determination” and “control” just don’t have the panache that “agency” does to describe the decision-making faculty. Approach a grad student and say, “I feel like I’d have more agency in my life if I could just get into grad school.” They will then say something discouraging about how the stress and abject poverty have led to a static and insular existence wherein they enjoy no re-active life at all. Don’t respond. Just put that coffee stirrer in your mouth and say, “Indeed.”