August 23, 2004

“The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” Official Back-to-School

“The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” Official Back-to-School Week

Well, dear reader, it’s getting to be that time of the year again. Little Jane and Susan are strapping on their halter-tops and heading back to the University of Upper Western Idaho. Sooner than you can imagine, your little darlings will be extraordinarily intoxicated and making extremely poor life decisions.

And what are we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” going to do about it? We’re glad you’ve asked.

Today’s post marks the first in a week-long series of back-to-school animadversions (or, as college students call them these days, “things”). All this week, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” shall be dilating on the four-year date-rape-a-thon known as “college.” As the sorority gals say, it’s gonna’ be, like, totally awesome.

That’s right, dear reader: For the next five days, our “Hatemonger’s Quarterly” Official Higher Education Task Force shall offer you all kinds of disquisitions on life at American universities.

And, to be sure, there is much to discuss. So, before you send your charming little beer-swiller off to campus, check out our daily musings on the life of the mind. Or, given college students’ aptitudes these days, the life of the libido.

In fact, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” believe that it would be useful to think of this week’s postings as a kind of informal U.S. News & World Report guide to colleges. Except we have an ounce more of credibility.

From tweed-clad professors to nattering about “the discursive Other,” we shall pontificate on all things academic.

Right now you’re probably wondering to yourself: Does “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” Official Back-to-School Week require me to own any fancy equipment? Again, dear reader, we’re glad you asked. Indeed, you’ll need a couple of things handy for this week’s postings. In fact, you’ll need everything the average college student requires: An extremely short attention span; an I’m-Ninteen-Years-Old-and-Know-Everything attitude; and a number two pencil.

So, dear reader, skip class, log on to your computer, and check out this week’s higher education rants. And yes, this will be on the test.

Let’s begin this week’s discussion on all things collegiate with a topic that is near and dear to most students’ hearts. No, dear reader, not calculus. And not philosophy—it’s too bookish. Our topic? Drinking games.

That’s right, dear reader: You have spent well over $30,000 a year to make sure that the fruit of your loins, after a hard day of sleeping through classes, is working on a secondary career as a dipsomaniac. After all, what else do you expect the kids to learn at college these days? Every class deals with race, class, and gender, regardless of their relevance to the topic at hand: Women’s Studies 101 “Racism, Sexism, and Oppression”; Math 222 “Black Feminist Algebra.”

In order to keep their minds off of these dreary topics, today’s university students spend their copious free time attempting to chuck ping-pong balls into plastic cups full of Milwaukee’s Best. In the good old days, Trotskyist and Stalinist students at the City College of New York sparred over the intellectual and political topics of the day. Today’s kids argue about the best way to make Jell-O shots. Altera tempora, alterae mores.

Posted at August 23, 2004 12:01 AM | TrackBack