August 17, 2005
Back to School ItÂ’s getting
ItÂ’s getting to be that time of year, dear reader. Nervous teenagers are set to amble down the hallways of their new dormitories, whilst their parents follow close behind. Virile upperclassmen hope to get their hands on the nubile first-year ladies. And everyone will soon oversleep his classes.
Yes, yes, itÂ’s back to school time, as sundry low-grade JC Penny advertisements announce. Ivy covered professors are back from their tanning beds and interminable summer holidays to try their hand at bleating about the evils of capitalism.
They’ve just spent the last month in the Bahamas, and now they are prepared to pontificate on behalf of the economically disadvantaged—because it’s a great way to ensure tenure at Yale. No hypocrisy here, eh?
We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” though our school days are long since over, can’t help but get a little misty-eyed when the new school year starts.
Sure, things have changed a bit since we were impressionable young undergraduates (and before we were impressionable young “webloggers”). Back in our day (as the geriatric crowd brays), the female students didn’t dress for class as if they were on a job interview—at Hooters.
And, as we recall, gang rape wasnÂ’t quite as popular. (Admittedly, though, we werenÂ’t in a fraternity, so we may not be the best judges of that.) To make matters worse, you couldnÂ’t study rap music yet.
O, the horror! How did we ever get by without a class on Jay-Z? How ever did we feel like educated people, without boning up on the subtleties of street slang? We’re collectively not sure. But we know it’s “whack.”
Yes, the contemporary college student has it made. Sure, he canÂ’t add, subtract, or multiply. And divide? ThatÂ’s always been the toughest one of the four.
Yet, thanks to the (literally) minutes of work put in by today’s professorate, little Johnny has an uncanny knack for identifying the “dyadic mirror phase,” and he can spy when someone is getting all “phallocratic.” With skills such as these, is it any wonder that India and China will soon outflank us?
Whilst we are in the midst of our academic animadversions, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” aim to inform you that the nation’s return to college will mean our return to focusing on the inanities of college life. Fairly soon, dear reader, we shall announce our August Academic of the Month. The hallowed halls of Berkeley and Cambridge are aflutter with anticipation.
Wherever thereÂ’s a pedagogue carping on the bourgeoisie during his three-hour workweek, we, like the Jackson Five, will be there.
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Back to School
ItÂ’s getting to be that time of year, dear reader. Nervous teenagers are set to amble down the hallways of their new dormitories, whilst their parents follow close behind. Virile upperclassmen hope to get their hands on the nubile first-year ladies. And everyone will soon oversleep his classes.
Yes, yes, itÂ’s back to school time, as sundry low-grade JC Penny advertisements announce. Ivy covered professors are back from their tanning beds and interminable summer holidays to try their hand at bleating about the evils of capitalism.
They’ve just spent the last month in the Bahamas, and now they are prepared to pontificate on behalf of the economically disadvantaged—because it’s a great way to ensure tenure at Yale. No hypocrisy here, eh?
We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” though our school days are long since over, can’t help but get a little misty-eyed when the new school year starts.
Sure, things have changed a bit since we were impressionable young undergraduates (and before we were impressionable young “webloggers”). Back in our day (as the geriatric crowd brays), the female students didn’t dress for class as if they were on a job interview—at Hooters.
And, as we recall, gang rape wasnÂ’t quite as popular. (Admittedly, though, we werenÂ’t in a fraternity, so we may not be the best judges of that.) To make matters worse, you couldnÂ’t study rap music yet.
O, the horror! How did we ever get by without a class on Jay-Z? How ever did we feel like educated people, without boning up on the subtleties of street slang? We’re collectively not sure. But we know it’s “whack.”
Yes, the contemporary college student has it made. Sure, he canÂ’t add, subtract, or multiply. And divide? ThatÂ’s always been the toughest one of the four.
Yet, thanks to the (literally) minutes of work put in by today’s professorate, little Johnny has an uncanny knack for identifying the “dyadic mirror phase,” and he can spy when someone is getting all “phallocratic.” With skills such as these, is it any wonder that India and China will soon outflank us?
Whilst we are in the midst of our academic animadversions, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” aim to inform you that the nation’s return to college will mean our return to focusing on the inanities of college life. Fairly soon, dear reader, we shall announce our August Academic of the Month. The hallowed halls of Berkeley and Cambridge are aflutter with anticipation.
Wherever thereÂ’s a pedagogue carping on the bourgeoisie during his three-hour workweek, we, like the Jackson Five, will be there.
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