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Faux Outrage

Literally the most important blog in the universe since 2010.

Monthly Archives: November 2001

ATTENTION young people of the world: Old people think we are stupid.

There are a few reasons for this paradigm of thought.  I don’t say “new paradigm” because I doubt this train of thought could be considered a paradigm shift per se (God bless AP American History).  Anyway, I digress like a mofo.  First, and I’m only speaking to the teenagers here, let’s be honest with ourselves.  We are stupid.  But that’s not the point!  The question is this: Where do old people get this (albeit correct) idea that we are dumb?  I am almost positive that they have not yet been able to find a copy of our top-secret underground magazine entitled What Teenagers Think and Do: How To Piss Off Your Parents, so that can’t be the issue at hand (Get it?  Issue at hand?).  Who is at fault here, then?  I’ll tell you who: Our wonderful Teachers and Professors (and TA’s for that matter).

Now don’t get me wrong here (as getting me wrong would perhaps send our green Earth into a beyond-chaotic tailspin into infinity), I do believe that teachers and professors (and yes, even TA’s) represent an underprivileged minority in our society who are doing their best to educate our nation’s youth (pronounced “Youthes” if you consider yourself to be an aristocrat and/or “English”).  However, there are two problems with the way our classrooms are being run today.  First, and I understand this is a blanket statement that does not apply in all cases: Students aren’t spending nearly enough time in class.  Second, much of our time in class is what I like to call “wasted”.  In both of these instances, I place the fault on the instructors.  Allow me to explain my case (very poorly and with a pinch of oregano a dash of lemon).

In almost every class I have ever participated in, the instructor insists on asking a rhetorical or unusually easy question and demanding an answer each and every time (For example: “If you were a slave in the South during pre-Civil War times, how would that make you feel?).  Although each student (who is not high, drunk, high and drunk, or deaf…or deaf, high and drunk) in the classroom knows the answer to this question, the students, based on an unwritten student code, cannot answer.  If a student does answer, he alienates himself from the group, insinuating to his classmates that he is perhaps the one man capable of answering such a question.  At the same time, if he does not answer, he alienates himself from his abilities, as his instructor will think that he does not understand the question.  Obviously, most of us would rather be alienated by our teachers rather than our peers.

That being said, in most situations students band together, not answering the rhetorical or easy question at hand.  This wastes time.  In my many years of “being learned”, I believe I have spent an estimated 6 months, 15 days, 17 hours and 31 minutes of my education time (ET) in total silence (TS) due to the presence of a rhetorical or ridiculously uncomplicated question (RRUQ).  We could put this time to better use, no?

I noticed all throughout high school that teachers had become immune to actually receiving answers to their questions.  For example, when teachers would cross me in the hall, they would say, “Hi Zach, how are you?” and continue walking.  They don’t wait for an answer, they don’t even pretend that they are interested in an answer.  This is a phenomenon I like to call “Utter then Sputter”.  They utter a question and then sputter away.

It also happens to be a pretty cool name for a cartoon.

People have been asking me why I haven’t written in a long time. Well people, if that is the  real generalization in which I should refer to you, the word is out: I’m lazy. I’m not so much the “It’s a waste of energy to move my bare foot from the freshly spewed molten lava” kind of lazy as much as the “…but I just washed my Capri Pants last week!” kind of lazy. I’m sure you see the difference. If not, please see me after class or at least before the next exam.

Now, I’ll be honest with you (as I like to be honest to my seven loyal readers—some of whom, and I hope these rumors are true, check my profile each and every day in hopes of seeing a new unread witticism waiting in the wings.  By the way, you guys are freaks). Anyway, I was getting ready to be honest, right? OK.

First of all, this column has absolutely no direction whatsoever.  Can I call it a column now?  Or is it too soon? I never know.  Anyway, I’ve been out of the game so long that I don’t even remember how to play. Props to my absolutely favoritist first cousin in the whole world Alison (whom I love) and my biggest fan Pat (#!) for annoying the living crap out of me to write anew.  So here it is.  Basically, what I’m trying to say is: If what I write sucks, it’s not my fault. It’s theirs.  I can’t help it if I’m famous.

Don’t hate the writer, hate the fame.

I digress.  After many years trying to stereotype people, I finally have figured out the difference between the millions upon billions of people in this world.  In the spirit of Halloween, I give you the following.  There are two types of people in this world:

People who trade Milky Ways for Snickers and people who trade Snickers for Milky Ways.

Of course, you have your exceptions, those who could go both ways, depending on how old they are and how much they’ve had to drink that night.  But those people are few and far between (and quite possibly aliens).  And please spare me the crap about Butterfinger being a separate but equal category.  That’s crap and you know it.

Personally, I’m a Milky Ways for Snickers kinda guy.  Always have been, always will be.  So what’s the difference between these two groups of people, the groups that I say definitively divide our entire solar system?  Um, hello?  Nothing?  Could it be more obvious?  It’s just candy, what the hell do you want?  I said it was a clear distinction, not a clear meaningful distinction.  Get off my back.  And give me your Snickers.

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