College Students—The Movie

As well nigh every American well knows, movies about college life are a dime a dozen in Hollywood. Although such films seldom rise to the level of the merely viewable, darn near all of the big studios pump out more and more of them. Revenge of the Nerds, A Love Story, Road Trip, &c., &c.: They’re complete crap, but the powers-that-be produce them at a quickening rate nonetheless.

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” figured that we might as well cash in on the popularity of this feculent filmic genre. Hey: Since the movie studios are going to hand us lemons, we might as well make money. Or something.

We mean, come on: The logic is impeccable. If the likes of Tom Green can get rich off of this detritus, why can’t we?

Yet—heterodox fellows and lasses that we are—we figured we’d give the tired college flick a bit of a twist. Instead of inevitably pertaining to undergraduate love and high jinks, our picture takes on the real college student. No saccharine plots about scoring with that super-hot chick from biology class for us. Nah: We, like our friends in the rap world, “likes to keeps it real.” Word.

First, our movie is a documentary. Not, we should say, an ineluctable box-office boom, but potentially promising nevertheless. After all, Michael Moore’s films do quite well, even though he never troubles himself to research them. Or tell the truth.

For no good reason, we have titled our film with an obvious tip of the cap to the movie The Unbearable Lightness of Being, based on the Milan Kundera novel of the same name. We call it The Interminable Sense of Entitlement, and we think it fits the typical college kid quite well.

Do you hate 19-year-olds who think they understand how the world works far better than those with more experience and basic literacy? If so, you’ll savor our film. Do you detest the obnoxious sense of privilege that students at private colleges demonstrate on a routine basis? If so, you won’t stop loving our movie.

Just think of the possibilities: In the first scene, a sophomore fraternity member ambles to his English professor’s office, still a little bit tipsy from his raucous time of boozing and fornicating the night before. Catching the attention of the distracted pedant, he complains, “Uh, Mr. Professor or whatever, I just don’t understand why I got a B- on my paper. It was only three pages short, seven days late, and on the wrong topic. What gives? Is there anyone I can complain to about you? Man, you are such a buzz kill.”

Oh, we can see it all now: The lazy, mal-educated, stupid, cocksure, dipsomaniacal, sex-obsessed, drug-crazed college kid as he really is. This ain’t gonna’ be no John Hughes picture.