Rage Against the Baby-Making Machine, or The Problem with America's Youth, aka THEIR PARENTS
I am midway through my first semester back in school since 1993. Having been surrounded by 66,000 beacons of hope for the future (at our nation's largest public university), I've decided what's wrong with America's youth: It's their parents.
Put on your Kevlar underpants, kids: This is going to be an 8.0 magnitude earthshaker on the Richter Scale of hate-generating offense. (Fortunately for me, Pat still hasn't fixed the comments section - but that doesn't mean you can't spam my inbox). If you are a parent and would like to retain some small shred of regard for the author, I suggest you stop reading now and click on over to hotchickswithdouchebags.com for some mindless entertainment (but only if you're sure your precious progeny isn't featured therein).
If you would like to learn how to arrest America's inexorable slide into a bleating wasteland of sheeplike zombies, read on... but don't say you weren't warned.
No Child Left Behind succeeded because they dumbed down educational curricula so far that it managed to collect even the knuckledragging bottom feeders of our inbred hinterlands (and I'm looking at you, Wasilla, Alaska). In our quest for accountability without ever having to hold anyone actually ACCOUNTABLE, we have raised a chucklehead class of "taught to the test" morons incapable of forming a coherent thought that cannot be expressed in a 160-character text message. (OMG!)
Not a day goes by in my chemistry class, lecture or recitation that one of the coddled pudding-heads doesn't raise her hand and ask, "WILL I HAVE TO MEMORIZE THIS FOR THE TEST?" And not a day goes by that I don't puncture my own tongue with my incisors to restrain myself from saying, "HEY DUMBASS, MAYBE IT MIGHT BEHOOVE YOU TO LEARN SOMETHING FOR A CHANGE RATHER THAN YOKE YOURSELF TO THE ANCHOR OF MEMORIZATION IN THE FAINT HOPES THAT YOU CAN ACE THE MCAT AND ONE DAY PULL OUT MY APPENDIX?"
This is why I want to go to med school, my friends - SO I CAN PULL OUT MY OWN APPENDIX BECAUSE I DON'T TRUST THE NEXT GENERATION TO DO SO. GIVE ME A STICK, A PAIR OF NAIL SCISSORS AND A BOTTLE OF WHISKEY. I'LL BE FINE, I PROMISE, BECAUSE I SURE AS HELL DON'T WANT TO HAND OVER THE ELEGANT MACHINERY OF MY INNARDS TO THE LIKES OF WHICH THINK IT'S OK TO HURL AT CARS OFF AN OVERPASS BECAUSE THEIR PLEDGEMASTER TOLD THEM TO DO SO... AND CAUSE A MULTI-INJURY ACCIDENT. See here for full story... yes, it's true. I saw the accident on my way to class.
And let's just make this crystal clear: These FUTURE LEADERS OF AMERICA were hurling milk DURING RUSH HOUR on cars below because their pledgemaster told them to do so... and if your Delta Sigma Phi pledgemaster told you to jump off that bridge? Well, I for one would be standing on the sidewalk waving pompoms for the sake of the gene pool, but I will just pause to say, "YOUR PARENTS PAID YOUR PLEDGEMASTER THE EQUIVALENT OF THEIR 45TH ANNIVERSARY RETIREMENT CRUISE BALCONY CABIN UPGRADE FOR HIM TO BE YOUR FRIEND." Yeah, that's nice... but then again, that's what happens WHEN YOU ABDICATE YOUR PARENTAL AUTHORITY TO VIDEO GAMES AND YOUTUBE BECAUSE YOU DON'T WANT TO DISCIPLINE YOUR SPAWN BECAUSE YOU WANT TO BE THEIR FRIENDS... AND IN DOING SO CREATE CHILDREN WHO EXPECT YOU TO STAGE A PARADE WHEN THEY MANAGE TO WIPE THEIR OWN ASSES AFTER A NASTY CASE OF GASTROINTESTINAL UPSET.
Here's a clue, parents, YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE YOUR KIDS' FRIENDS - YOU CAN PAY FOR THEM, SEE AFOREMENTIONED PLEDGEMASTER. Oh wait, that's a circular argument - your kids have no friendship skills because you're a shitty parent, ergo you buy friends for your kids... and they choose said pledgemaster to be their friend... and he tells them to vomit milk from an overpass onto oncoming cars causing multiple-injury collisions... which only means one thing:
YOU SHOULD SUE THE FRATERNITY. The lawsuits haven't come yet, but I'm laying 3-2 odds. Any takers?
Hey, maybe your kid won't be so stupid - maybe he'll be a Sigma Chi and will break down wooden pallets and shove them into his frat-house chimney and light it aflame... not in any attempt to demonstrate an exothermic reaction but because HE'S TOO FUCKING STUPID TO REALIZE THAT HE MIGHT INCINERATE HIS PAID-FOR BUDDIES AND THEIR CHOSEN ABODE!!! Read the story here...
Second lawsuit, double-or-nothing - any takers?
And by the way, these geniuses scored an AVERAGE 66 on our second chemistry exam. My standards of excellence did dip, as I came in with a sloped-forehead 80. Fortunately, Dr. Younger-Than-I gave us each 4 extra points, so I still have a B, and the FUTURE OF AMERICA now has a 70, or a C. Oh and by the way, Dr. Younger-Than-I will substitute our LOWEST score with our HIGHEST score... and I still have a 96 in my back pocket.
Back in the day, a 70 was a whisper from a D... and a 66 was a D-minus. Our next test is Monday, November 10 - and oh by the way, Baby Mama brought her knitting to class yesterday. She didn't take notes. She knitted a scarf... now, where are those nail scissors? My appendix is tender.