Posts Tagged Classes

What I’m Expecting Next Fall

We can all smell it in the air. It’s a weird smell of blazing heat and money being wasted into the fiery pit of death also known as the Federal Reserve. If you’re not completely broke and still a college undergrad, there is still hope and change in store for you. That was a complete lie but here are some tips to make sure you are at least somewhat prepared for your binge drinking endeavors next semester.

First thing’s first. You will be reading this under the assumption that you have partied hard all summer and your liver is nothing short of a shriveled raisin. Once you have established a nicely defined, high tolerance for alcohol, you’re half way there. Remember the essentials to a successful college career. Binge drinking on evenings before exams is always a great idea to wake up refreshed and ready. So make sure whatever is left of your summer is spent carefully calculating how much Ramen soup is needed to get rid of that amazing hangover and upset your stomach just enough to puke thoroughly into your 2nd Floor bathroom toilet due to the absurd amounts of salt neatly packed into this plastic package sent from God.

Which leads me to my next point. RAMEN. It’s cheap, tasty when mixed with seven fluid ounces of Tabasco sauce, and can ruin your night instantly if you don’t have a cup of water ready by your side to down all that sodium that just infiltrated your stomach like it’s hungry for the Dead Sea. Actually, forget what I said. Get yourself a Meal Plan so you’ll be able to wake up the next day.

You’re not prepared for college if you didn’t do your summer research and reading. Your brain needs the necessary exercise to get itself ready for the total of ten days you’ll be doing actually work the entire Fall Semester. Hence, your summer should have been spent researching the perfect way to make Jungle Juice; the most exquisite way to down a can of Keystone Light without having to puke at the awful, watered down taste of urine packed into an aluminum cylinder; the best way to throw that pong ball and assure yourself that you’re not intoxicated despite the fact that your ball just hit your partner two feet next to you in the head.

Notebooks are important to bring with you to school. Sadly enough, there is some work involved with this whole “I need a piece of paper telling my employer that I survived academia but we all know that’s a complete lie.” I suggest spiral notebooks. Or you can remind yourself that it’s 2009 and get yourself a laptop, preferably not a Mac because I like two buttons on my mouse. But for all you Mathematics majors, may whatever divine entity out there have mercy on your soul, go for a marble notebook. But if you’re a political science major, just don’t show up to class. You just have to accept that socialism is a good thing and apply for a government job because that’s all that will be left once you graduate.

Remember to prepare to look simply dashing at those frat parties. Nothing defines class like torn jeans and a t-shirt that has some strange colloquialism on it like, “Damn, I look good.” Clearly, the girls just love that stuff. Ladies, remember a taser gun. Partying in flip-flops is also classy. Having the feeling of either puke or spilt Keystone or both on your feet really hits the spot when your best friend just told you “you’re the man.” Just be prepared for that pop quiz in American History 101 the next morning. And by next morning I mean Tuesday.

For those of us with fears of Communism and Che Guevara, be sure to avoid the Art History building and more than two-thirds of the student body. For those of us young, idealistic undergrads who believe in uber-taxation, simply walk into the political science department. Campus conservatives may want to invest in anti-socialism repellent (my favorite brand is Ron Paul), while campus liberals may want to dye their hair purple and green, and wear checkered jackets that scream out “I look like a vagabond but this is a great way to tell me apart from the opposition.”

Finally, be prepared for roommate quarrels and in-room catfights. My best advice to you is to find a nice corner in your Campus Center that’s just discrete enough to hide your face into that Organic Chemistry textbook when things get heated. Or you can videotape all your arguments, post them on YouTube, and laugh about it with your roommate several hours later because Housing was “too busy” to move one of you into another room.

For all those entering their first or continuing year of undergrad this September, good luck to you all and remember to have fun. But most importantly, remember to get yourselves good grades because there are no do-overs here. This time it actually counts.

Roy Antoun will be entering his Junior year at Rutgers University this September. Find him on campus for more valuable, sarcastic advice.

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My Sophomore Year

Well, what have we learned? Rutgers, it has been one hell of a year and, my God, what a hellish ride it has been. Sophomore year at Rutgers taught me that the Supreme Court is made up of nine assholes who sit around a bench all day and talk about Paris Hilton and how she should dictate American social law. This past year has taught me that the free market has failed and socialism is now universally acceptable. Soccer moms are incredibly annoying. Jesus was a magician. The Jews control the Middle East. General Motors is more important than your mom. And the world is going to end in 2012.

In all seriousness, this transitional year taught me that people are incredible naive and stupid. Let’s start with my move-in back in ancient September when the dinosaurs still walked the earth and having 2 gigabytes of RAM was semi-decent. Being surrounded by the Black Forrest of Germany, also known as Cook Campus, I meandered my way around the Starkey Apartments (also known as the housing projects) in search for gold and magical rainbows but found, instead, outlets of marijuana smokers and a colony of centipedes and ants that like to hang out in my bathroom and living room walls. Fair enough, I said to God the Great Magician; I shall test my wits and strength to overcome this hoard of insects that come in the form of hippies.

I apparently took classes my first semester of Sophomore year. This was news to me.

[American Constitutional Law]
It was during this semester that I allegedly realized that the law is allegedly manifested out of the minds of someone who allegedly looks like my late alleged grandfather. Allegedly. This modern day story of mythological titan Prometheus can be found in Article III of the Constitution according to the Court decision of Reality vs. Prometheus and Bob et al (Which was an amazing Cartoon Network skit and if you don’t think so or don’t know what I’m talking about, you have no soul). The Court ruled in favor of Prometheus and Bob because “Reality was too much of a hassle and required way too much common sense,” stated Justice Souter. And that’s why he left the Court a few weeks ago.

[History of Colonial America]
I also learned during this first semester that southern white men used to bash their slaves with the butt ends of their muskets and make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with their native counterparts. Land clearance was dealt with the simple question of “Do you have a flag?” Natives adequate replied with “Powhatan” whilst the Europeans circled native forts, set them ablaze, but were still able to call each other “bros” at the end of the day.

[Comparative Public Policy]
I learned that public policy in other countries is sometimes determined by what is best for the people. Public policy in this country is determined via coin flip. Should the coin magnetically land on heads, we turn to socialism so we can be more like our European counterparts. Should the coin accidentally land on tails, the coin flips over due to the laws of magnetic physics and we still get socialism. It either case, the government still makes you bend over.

[American Foreign Policy]
American foreign policy is also determined via coin flip. Heads means America tells France to bend over. Tails means America tells France to bend over a little further. However, when America just so happens to, say, toss the coin away, it invades Iraq. In either scenario, Sarkozy still bends over. Conclusively, American policy in general is very sexually oriented because we are a country founded by European prudes who lacked any form of sexual etiquette and we are now unleashing 250+ years of sexual repression. It was taught this way in the class- I swear.

[War, Peace, and the Military]
Taught by the most amazing senior citizen I know, this class taught me nothing about war but everything about Social Security checks and medication for the elderly.

[Medieval Kings and Queens]
I’m going to end my story of the Fall Semester with a class that never ended. If I had to define “waste of time”, this class would somehow fit into the definition. I would rather sit through a lecture on Keynesian Economics than learn about what King was screwing which Lady at what time of the year because her menstrual cycle was shifted by Charlemagne’s sudden urge to rape Lombards.

Then came second semester, when I woke up. As my giant wings erupted from the depths of massive amounts of partying and one night stands in the Fall Semester, I consumed the air in a vat of fiery goodness. Not only did I enjoy a wonderful winter in Brooklyn, but I also loathed coming back to the State of New Joisey and nothing-but-highways. Hating absolutely everyone and everything that moved in this wretched state (if you would call it a state- more like land mass for New Yorkers to throw warehouses in), I proceeded to tackle a new set of classes that supposedly gave me the necessary knowledge to make it in life. LOL.

The Spring Semester taught me that, despite my uber heterosexuality, it is sometimes acceptable to have academic man crushes because it’s just part of being awesome. It’s totally not gay because it’s academic masturbation; sitting in front of a computer screen reading PDFs of Laitin and Trevor-Roper really hit my weak spot. This semester also taught me that Law School can equal death and so can writing for the Centurion. You know… those evil stares people give you when they know you write for right-wing propaganda journals. They just stare at you from their pompous swivel chairs with the letters “Barack Obama” engraved onto their foreheads. Those same letters that have never been removed because these damn hippies in the Cook Campus Center refuse to bathe.

Speaking of which, have you ever walked into the Cook Campus Center only to have a bunch of Ecological Biology majors (whatever the hell that is) slowly twist their aching necks into the light. And they just stare at you, like you’re some new, unwanted blood that just stumbled into the Science Tribe. And as you sit down on one of those couches and take out your history or politics book, you notice that their skin starts to flake and their eyes begin to turn red. How dare you read anything that isn’t Organic Chemistry!? And while you turn the pages in your book, you feel so uncomfortable because now they’re huddled in their packs, encircling your undesired presence, just waiting for you to take one wrong breath and BAM! You realize you’ve been clubbed over the head by some shriveled up Indian kid who hasn’t seen the light of day in 57 hours with an 800-pound Bio-Tech Engineering text book that cost more than his entire family is worth back in India.

Anyways… to the classes I took in my Spring Semester.

[Introduction to International Relations]
Bismarck was a boss. That’s really all I needed to learn from this class besides the fact that the UN is made up of a bunch of over privileged Harvard or Oxford graduates who want to “make a difference in the world” by travelling Africa in UN helmets and pepper spray. Yea, the flower in your hair and pepper spray is going to stop a Russian T-72 tank from trampling your hippie ass. But the Cold War is over and now we have bigger problems on our plate: Terrororistssss and Asians and bears, oh my!

[Culture and Politics]
Ok, where to begin. If I learned ANYTHING from this class, it’s that Jesus probably rode a dinosaur into Jerusalem and that Serbia is the alleged center of the universe. But I beg to differ because that’s clearly Brooklyn and not Serbia because Brooklyn has one thing Serbia does not: Guidos. Culturally speaking, Guidos and piece-of-shit gangster white kids from Bay Ridge are necessary evils in the world to show the sane remnants how lucky they are to have fully developed brains versus their social counterparts. And clearly, culture is always changing because these Guids (not “GuidOs” because I don’t have enough respect to call them by their full derogatory names) will come in different colors like green and magenta twenty years from now after they get skin cancer from all their tanning.

[Law and Politics]
Ok, take my explanation of “American Constitutional Law” and apply it to a class with 450 students because Rutgers wants all students to experience the Stadium Expansion, especially in the classroom.

[American Political Theory]
Americans have nothing better to do than argue over who has the better looking home. Some Americans get jealous while others are apathetic because they have better things to do with their time, like excel in life and not worry about Marxist class struggles. We also studied Victoria Woodhull and the woman’s vote in this class. Hey, want to hear a joke? … women’s rights. LOLOL! ROFL!@#@&*

[Interest Groups]
BEST FOR LAST. When you clinically cannot read or write I really think your teaching privileges should be taken away from you. This class to me is comparable to the Batan Death March. It was a painful, slow exile into nowhere, because at some point in the class, the student inevitably says, “No, [insert professor name here], I do NOT care about your “epic” endeavors into the world brothel known as the White House. No, [insert professor name here], no one cares about Johnson & Johnson because we know we aren’t religiously privileged with lawyerly skills like you. And lastly, [insert professor name here], no, we do not want to hear about how you drank with Congressman so-and-so till four in the morning because that is just creepy.” And come to think of it, if this guy wrote policy in Washington DC, it’s no wonder that this country is so screwed up.

After my dragon breath bequeathed the air, I looked around me and saw everything on fire. The world was in the same chaos as I first found it in. It was then that I realized there are a lot of stupid people in the world and many of them include students, professors (ie: those who cannot realize that there is civilization outside of Washington DC), politicians, ex-girlfriends, or any person who feels that they have the moral authority to take it upon themselves to tell people how to live. I don’t tell people “how” to live; I just exploit their stupidity so hopefully they will take it upon themselves to change their idiotic behavior on their own.

This is the conservative political thought and this is the history I like to study. Why? Because it’s REAL. Yea, it’s ugly, and rash, and evil, and maniacal, and heartless, but I am not your mother. To those of you reading this going, “My God, he’s going to hell,” I’m an atheist so I guess I’m just going into the dirt like the rest of you. And to those of you reading this going, “Haha LOL He’s so funny LOL! I’m totally not like that! LOL!” you are precisely the idiot I am talking about.

Life is nasty, cold, brutish, and short; it’s kind of like a gigantic game of Diplomacy. Between the classes I took this year and the people I met, I’m thoroughly convinced that humanity has gone and is continuing to go down the toilet.

I wonder what Junior year has in store for me. Whatever it is, it better not be hope and change. I had way too much fun making fun of you ingrates all year. Yes, those “I love America and I’m totally ignorant to the rest of the world” people. Yes, those “I gave my girlfriend my testicles and will probably never get them back” people. Yes, those “Who was Bismarck? I never heard of him!” people. It’s because of people like you that I have something to look forward to every day. And that is making fun of you. May God, or Zoroaster, or some other made-up divine spirit help you with your life because I sure as hell cannot.

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