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Geniesa Tay's Master's thesis explores the relationships we have with popular culture and politics – which necessitates the use of a few certain acronyms, Star Wars references, and images of felines in amusing poses. But don't be too quick to discount it, because there's a lot of rich thought and insight to be found within...

A few months ago, an older gentleman who was standing behind me in a queue at Café 360 caught sight of a book I was holding, titled The New Politics of Leisure and Pleasure. He chuckled, and said something along the lines of, "They'll write a book about anything these days".

While I assume he wasn't being intentionally condescending (actually, maybe he was), I am nothing if not completely aware of the stigma attached to someone who's willing enough to pursue a postgraduate degree in the Arts, let alone in a subject area that on the surface sounds, for lack of a better word, frivolous, or pointless, even.

I'm currently doing my Master's degree in Media and Communication, and my thesis focuses on citizen-generated online political humour. It considers the relationships that we have with popular culture and politics. Yes, there may be cats and certain acronyms involved, as well as enough references to the (original) Star Wars trilogy. And yes, I also know that purely by writing this column, I am essentially obliged to encounter more people insisting on starting a conversation with, "So... how are the LOLcats going?" By the way, that's only funny the first four or five times.

I'm sure this all sounds pretty silly, but I do hope that the three-letter acronym at least kept you from deviating away from this page. If it did, thanks for justifying my reason for doing what I do.

Some of what I'm writing here will sound like a bunch of clichés. It will feel as if I'm trying to overcompensate for the lack of confidence that the people at the top of the food chain, or even worse, any other student who isn't an Arts student, have in the Arts (you know who you are). As an Arts graduate who is perfectly confident that my skills are less than likely to be replaced by robots (as soon as we stop antagonizing them), I'd like to question why.

You must be aware of the redundancies across campus by now. When job cuts include academic staff, the Arts are always sadly, though unsurprisingly, the first to be challenged. Ideally, an institution that is meant to foster individuality, innovation, and creativity should not be basing its curriculum entirely on economics. Instead of open minds, we have produced a generation of students stereotyped according to the departments they're affiliated with, and this always leaves the Arts feeling like leftover kids in a sports team (or to utilize an analogy with which I actually have some familiarity, Manny in Black Books).

Like many others, I completed my undergraduate degree in 2008, right into the armpit of a well-publicized economic recession. I also was simply not ready to leave yet. There is a lot left to learn, and I'm happy to delve into a currently obscure territory in academic research. For too long, we have been preoccupied with "high culture" in tertiary education. To study what is essentially popular culture (or "how people procrastinate") can be hard, especially when everybody else appears to be doing something "useful". I have been asked by academics why I would bother legitimising the stupid things that people do. I do it because we live in a culture too unaware of a world saturated with so much content. No activity that comes to us naturally in everyday life should be taken for granted – try writing a sarcastic text message without an emoticon/acronym, staring at a photograph of Joe Biden eating a sandwich without laughing, or expressing yourself in over 140 characters. Whether or not you're able to do these things are, in some way, relevant (I'd explain how, but you can always just take an introductory Social Sciences paper. Plus, I have a word limit so low, I should probably be Tweeting this article). That, I think, is the real value of an Arts degree. It isn't just purely about the pursuit of knowledge to gain a qualification– it's about being aware in the end, of the subtle things we encounter every day, and questioning and finding meaning in them.

While I've had my share of critics, I'm happy to be writing a piece that everyone seems to have an opinion on. I've spoken to professionals– people with actual, respectable jobs (yes, like doctors and lawyers), who for some reason, envy the fact that I get to spend my Thursday nights writing about something fun. Some of them even sent me links to pieces they've enjoyed. This justifies the importance of what I do– it's not just online political humor, but also the endless range of related topics that surrounds the spectrum. It's also a fantastic icebreaker. A few weeks ago, I had a perfectly civil conversation about local politics with a lady cutting my hair that started with her asking me what I did for a living. How cool is that?

I see my Master's thesis as a reflection of who I am as an academic. It's a strangely personal topic based on my own research interests, and I'm fortunate enough to stumble across supervisors who are confident enough to keep reminding me (in academic terms) of how important my work is. As for what comes next, I'd be lying if I claim to have any solid plans. I'd like to think that there's a world of endless opportunities out there, and I'm damn well foolish enough to be up for anything. The other option, to quote Stephen Colbert (also cool enough to be thesis material), is cynicism– it "masquerades as wisdom, but it's the farthest thing from it [...] It is a self-imposed blindness, a rejection of the world because we are afraid it will hurt us or disappoint us. Cynics always say no."

I have seen the work by postgrads from other departments, and do highly respect them. There is no lack of smart people in this place, but there will always be a need for more open minds. There is enough room out there for all of us. A healthy environment calls for a plurality of approaches, views, and knowledge. This, I believe, is important to a reputable academic institution. I certainly wouldn't have stuck around after two major natural disasters if there weren't any hope left for my work.