Some of life’s questions are liable to keep you awake at night.

Likely this isn’t one of them.

If you’re similar to me you’d rather run a mile in blistered feet carrying a mouthful of snake venom than have to endure a buffalo-sized dose of moustache-twirling, dry-as-the-Serengeti-plains, leather-elbow-patch-wearing academia.

Then let this explanation of something that’s probably never crossed your mind  be your once a year foray into the hallowed halls of what goes by the Braveheart-facepaint- wearing-name of The Humanities.

Prooooooobably doesn’t matter, but there it is.

The truth is out.

Ps. I can confirm that those defamatory suggestions about the letters PHD standing for Pizza Hut Driver, Professional Hole Digger or even Piled High in Debt are completely false. Ok, maybe not the last one but certainly the first two.