University Life

According to the Chronicle of Higher Education, “Boston University is pausing its removal of…pride flags…from outward-facing windows following weeks of controversy over the practice” (April 6th online).  

The pause results from a creative compromise that has been negotiated with LGBTQ+ groups on the BU campus.  Beginning May 1st, all window-based pride flags will be replaced with banners displaying the Periodic Table of Elements.  BU President Melissa Gilliam notes that “99% of every human being — including every member of the LGBTQ+ community — is composed of 6 elements: oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, carbon, calcium, and phosporus.  The Periodic Table honors ALL of us, and the Department of Justice has indicated that the banners will not violate the current federal prohibition of DEI activities on college campuses. 

“Also, the multi-colored Periodic Table that we will use is designed to capture the rainbow spirit of pride flags.  Let’s face it: gay, straight, or something else, we’re all basically made up of water and a few other substances.  We should focus our attention on that fact and not get distracted by disputes over how we choose to go bump in the night.   

“Just for the record, the response of BU’s STEM faculty to this compromise can be summed up in one word: ECSTATIC.  As the Chairperson of the Chemistry Department told me yesterday, ‘this is going to be the best study aid EVER for our undergraduates who know how to read!’

BREAKING NEWS:  The Trump Administration is suing Harvard University “for every single thing it has done throughout its history,” according to Secretary of Education Linda McMahon.  

McMahon claims that “the elitist, lunatic-left pestilence that is Harvard must be eliminated once and for all, and the best way to do that, short of nuking the place, is to sue their asses from here to Hoboken.”

Among the offenses Harvard is being accused of are the following Top Ten:

1. Residing in Massachusetts, “a state ruled by witches and other Brides of Satan.”
2. Providing vegetarian options at every meal in its dining halls but never offering fried panda.
3. Refusing to accept applicants whose parents took them to Monster Truck shows when they were young.   
4. Prohibiting cheerleaders from Hooters from performing at its intercollegiate squash tournaments. 
5. Sponsoring squash tournaments filled with undergraduate dweebs rather than funding a mechanical-bull-riding team composed of NIL-worthy athletes. 
6. Nicknaming itself the Harvard Crimson when every red-blooded American knows that the “Crimson” label is legally owned by the University of Alabama’s Crimson Tide.
7. Never hosting a Three Tenors concert featuring Merle Haggard, Billy Ray Cyrus, and Travis Tritt. 
8. Declining the President’s invitation to call itself “Trump Harvard University.”
9. Providing ATMs on campus but not offering slot machines, casinos, or paid escort services. 
10. Failing to award Melania Trump an honorary doctorate in Face Science. 

“Inform Harvard that the end is near,” McMahon told reporters.  “We all look forward to the day it wakes up face down in the Charles River.”

 

The Midland College Board of Trustees recently voted to allow two companies to drill for oil on its Midland, Texas campus.  The drilling is expected to generate approximately $20 million in revenue for the college over the next 25 years (Midland Reporter-Telegram, March 2nd online). 

But what about universities that aren’t sitting atop a big ol’ bucket of crude?  Not to worry.  Consider the actions taken by creative administrators at these three well-known institutions of higher education. 

New York University:  The school has given Squeak Supply, Inc. — a New Jersey-based company that furnishes research institutes with rodents for laboratory experiments — permission to capture as many as 7,500 rats per month on its main campus in Greenwich Village.  

According to NYU President Linda Mills, “this is New York City we’re talking about.  We have many, many more rats in our buildings than we have students.  Our motto is, ‘never sit down without checking first’.  Squeak Supply is paying us $3.50 for every rat it retrieves.  It’s a win-win if I ever saw one.”

Yale Law School:  Empirical studies indicate that Yale Law professors have egos that are roughly three to five times the size of the average law school faculty member, including those at Harvard.  Twice a year, medical technicians at Yale New Haven Hospital perform minimally invasive surgery on these professors to drain the excess egonic fluid from their brains. 

“It’s a 15-minute, single-puncture procedure requiring only a local anesthetic,” claims Cristina Rodriguez, Dean of the Law School.  “We sell the extracted fluid to companies that manufacture multi-vitamins for individuals suffering from low self-esteem.  The university makes money, and we end up with faculty members who are much less of a pain in the ass to deal with.”  

Oral Roberts University:  Religious assemblies at the Tulsa, Oklahoma school typically generate enormous amounts of perspiration, as attendees become frenzied, writhing witnesses in the presence of the Almighty.  At the end of each service, worshippers wipe their faces with hand towels that are later cut into squares, laminated, and sold as “wet relics” at evangelical conferences around the country.  

Profits from these expensive collectibles are being used to fund construction of a Tramway to Heaven that will ascend from the school’s North Campus directly to the firmament (completion expected in time for the beginning of President Trump’s third term).   

College presidents, it’s time to stop sitting on your assets.  Get busy.  

The Chronicle of Higher Education reports that legislators in Kansas “want to get rid of DEI offices, end diversity trainings, banish diversity statements, and censor how professors talk about race…in mandatory courses” (February 20th online).  

None of this is very surprising in the current political environment.  What IS raising eyebrows in the Sunflower State, however, is a recent decision by Wichita State University that will enable it to become the first school in the nation where it is legal to claim, “We Don’t See Color.”  

Commencing July 1st, 2026, WSU will only hire faculty, staff, and administrators — and only accept students — who can provide medical proof that they are color-blind. 

According to WSU President Richard Muma, “discrimination on the basis of skin color has been the scourge of humanity since the beginning of time, and WSU is committed to eliminating that scourge.  We realize that mandating color blindness on our campus will be a challenge, since only about 8% of all males — and less than 1% of all females — are color-blind.  But WSU embraces that challenge.  Color blindness is not a deficiency or an affliction, it’s a gift.  Color-sensitive people are Satan’s minions, and our institution will no longer be complicit in the evil they foist upon the world.  As our new school motto proclaims, ‘If you can see brown, yellow, black, or white, you better make sure to get out of OUR sight’.”

Amen, brother. 

TRUE FACT:  In an attempt to reduce grade inflation, the Subcommittee on Grading of the Undergraduate Educational Policy Committee at Harvard University recently recommended that the number of A grades awarded in any given course at the school be capped at 20% (Harvard College of Undergraduate Education website).

Princeton is following a different path.  Indeed, some might say it’s taking the high road: providing students with incentives rather than applying pressure to faculty.  

Beginning in September 2026, a Princeton student who agrees at the time of course registration to accept a final grade of B without complaint will not be required to complete any assignments for that course.  No papers, no exams, no reports, no nuthin’.  

Additionally, if the student is comfortable with a grade of C, he or she will receive 500 shares of Nvidia stock and complimentary tour tickets for 3 different Southern plantation tours:

• Oak Alley (Vacherie, LA)
• Boone Hall (Mount Pleasant, SC)
• Belle Meade (Nashville, TN)

According to Christopher Eisgruber, Princeton’s President, “we prefer to catch our flies with honey — and we have lots of that — rather than vinegar.  It’s the Princeton way.”

Well, Yale.  The whole world is watching. 

 

More than a few faculty members at Old Dominion University were upset last summer when Provost Brian K. Payne announced that they would need to condense their 16-week online courses into 8-week offerings.  They predicted that the shift would not go smoothly (Chronicle of Higher Education, February 2nd online). 

They had no idea how right they were.

Late in the afternoon of February 4th, Dalton Pelf, an assistant professor of English at ODU, sat down in front of his office computer in the Batten Arts & Letters building on campus.  He asked ChatGPT to compress all of the PowerPoint content for his 16-week online course on James Joyce’s Ulysses and Finnegan’s Wake into an 8-week presentation.  ChatGPT responded that the task would “take some time, probably several hours.”  Professor Pelf left the computer running on his desk and went home.

At approximately 2:35 am on February 5th, a massive explosion and mushroom cloud replaced what used to be Batten Arts & Letters.  Fortunately, the building was empty at the time except for a small aquarium tank in the office of the English Department Chair.  Its inhabitants did not survive. 

According to campus police and forensic IT consultants, squeezing so much dense analytical material on Joyce into just 8 weeks raised the energy requirements of Pelf’s computer to the point where a form of nuclear fission occurred, unleashing an atomic-like blast.

Surveying the rubble, ODU’s police chief remarked, “it’s one thing to condense the substance of Dan Brown’s collective works into 8 weeks, but James Joyce?  Give me a break.  That Pelf fella should have known better.”

An interfaith memorial service for Batten’s deceased guppies will be held at 10:00 am on Wednesday, February 11th at the Seafood Station in Broderick Dining Commons.  Phish will perform. 

 

With blue books and handwritten exams returning to college classrooms in the wake of ChatGPT, it was only a matter of time before higher education tackled the challenge of reintroducing students to the art of cursive writing.  As one professor recently put it, “the penmanship of today’s typical college sophomore resembles the splotched and splattered canvas of a Jackson Pollock painting…and is just about as meaningful.” 

Leading the way, of course, is Harvard.  Beginning in September 2026, the first floor of Widener Library will house the Crimson Cursive Center, providing students with intensive tutoring in all aspects of curly writing.  According to John F. Manning, Harvard’s Provost, “elementary schools in the United States can no longer be relied upon to teach young people how to write in cursive, so we’ve decided to do it ourselves.  Our faculty have demanded this.  

“The Center will be open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and will be staffed by elderly monks and nuns from the finest Western European monasteries and convents.  We’re working with the Trump administration around the clock to expedite their visa applications.  If all goes well, we plan to establish an undergraduate major in Calligraphy by the fall of 2027.”

At Vanderbilt University, they’re taking a different, non-blue-book approach.  Students type their answers to in-class exam questions on vintage Smith-Corona manual typewriters (circa 1920) that have been reconditioned but not electrified.  Vanderbilt Chancellor Daniel Diermeier acknowledges that “our classrooms are quite noisy during exam periods, what with all those keys being struck, but silicone earplugs are provided free of charge to any student who requests them.  Trust me, this is a lot easier than teaching Vanderbilt students to write in cursive.”

Wondering if the U. S. is losing its edge in higher education?  Think again. 

 

 

“Feeling Depleted? A Guide to Faculty Renewal” is the title of a recent Chronicle of Higher Education article devoted to re-energizing dispirited college professors (January 7th online). 

The authors do an excellent job when it comes to identifying the four ingredients that are needed for the renewal process, but outdated norms of civility prevent them from fully exploring that process.  It’s time to get real, folks.  The following suggestions for mixing these ingredients are better suited to our Trumpian era.  

TIME AWAY:  Using sabbaticals, spring breaks, and summer vacations to “get away” is for wusses.  Be aggressive.  Inform your department chair at the beginning of February that you won’t be meeting any of your classes for the entire month.  If the chair balks, simply say, “I know where you live and, by the way, how is 5-year-old Timmy doing?  Such a beautiful child!”  Flash a deranged smile when delivering that last sentence. 

REFLECTION AND GOAL SETTING:  Your promotion to Associate Professor was denied last year, with the letter from the Tenure and Promotion Committee noting that you have yet to write a single chapter of the book you claimed to have been working on for the past five years:  “Stirring the Hive: The Revolt of Indigenous Beekeepers in 17th-Century Scotland.”  

Contemplating this insult is the kindling for the fury that rages within you.  It is now time to transform that fury into a measurable objective:  going to the home of every member of the T & P Committee and keying their car.  

COMMUNITY:  Assemble your attack team: that eccentric Math professor who insists on calling people “earthlings” rather than using their names; the Business School lecturer who responds to every colleague’s utterance with a facial expression that suggests the suffering associated with a severely impacted colon; and the alienated server in the faculty dining room who has been disciplined more than once for spitting into the tureen of minestrone. 

CLEAR NEXT STEPS:  In the faculty parking lot, identify the cars you intend to key on Revenge Night.  Double-check their license plates to ensure that no innocents are targeted.  Organize a practice session for the team at an auto junkyard.  Buy camouflage outfits, including ICE-type head coverings, for all members of the team.  Choose a time for the attack, preferably a moonless night between 1 and 3 am. 

Treat the team to pizza and beer on the evening of the mission. 

Execute the mission.

Return to your classes the following month, knowing that there is no challenge in academia you can’t handle. 

And continue to avoid the minestrone.  

 

TRUE FACT:  The 2026 annual meeting of the American Historical Association included a session on “The Reading Problem,” prompted by the significant decline that has occurred in college students’ reading skills.  When you add that problem to the one of ChatGPT-enabled students no longer doing their own writing, we arrive at the question:  What’s a university to do if its students can neither read nor write?

Not to worry, says Florida Governor Ron DeSantis.  In September 2026, Stonehenge College will open in Ocala, a city of over 60,000 in North Central Florida.  According to the Governor, “Stonehenge will be the first college in the country to fully embody the oral tradition of education.  There will be no readings or written assignments — EVER.  Professors will lecture, students will listen, and then students will talk and be graded on what they say.  If a subject can’t be taught this way, it’s not worth learning.

“Plato and Aristotle pioneered the Stonehenge model of voice-based education in England back in 350 BC, and it still works.  As Socrates famously proclaimed, ‘the sparrow’s song at dusk is the vessel that carries all that is needed for an examined life’.

Stonehenge College will join the NCAA’s Southeastern Conference in the fall of 2027, fielding teams in football, basketball, and yodeling.

 

At first glance, the headline in the Chronicle of Higher Education might seem alarming: “Texas A&M Bans Plato Excerpt from a Philosophy Course” (January 7th online).  

But Tommy Williams, Interim President of the school, disagrees: “Everyone needs to calm down.  This is not about Plato or race or gender ideology, and it never has been.  It’s about the fact that this is Texas, and the typical policymaker or high-level college administrator in our state can’t tell the difference between a bowl of refried beans and a bucket of cow turds.  I’m talking about a level of stupid that has to be seen to be believed.  I should know, having served in the Texas legislature for over 16 years and in the role of Texas A&M’s President.  Hell, we couldn’t distinguish between Plato and Play-Doh if our lives depended on it.  Trust me.  

“Here at Texas A&M, we’re all about football, not Philosophy courses. This season the Aggies went 11-2 and made the playoffs; we’re not looking back.  If it’s Plato you want, try the Roasted Lamb Bowl at Wild Pita on Wellborn Road.  I’m told it’s pretty Greeky.”