“And Then Leopold Says to Molly…….”

The Chronicle of Higher Education recently claimed that Democratic Presidential candidate Pete Buttigieg “plays the piano, loves James Joyce’s Ulysses, and taught himself to speak Norwegian.”

University Life is not in a position to comment on Buttigieg’s keyboard skills or fluency in norsk, but there is no way he has read Ulysses.  That’s because no one has read Ulysses in its entirety since 1967, which is 15 years before Buttigieg was born. 

According to Joyce scholar Sterling Pwesh, Professor Emeritus of English at Bowdoin College, “more people have falsely claimed to have read Ulysses than any other novel in history.  The reality is that a greater number of individuals purchased Michelle Obama’s memoir on the day it was published than have read Ulysses in the 97 years it has been available in book form.” 

Pwesh notes that “what almost always happens is that someone starts reading Joyce’s novel for the sex passages, but then realizes that it’s not worth the endless slog through the narrative in order to get to the juicy parts.  Most would-be readers give up by page 27, and nobody is left after page 60.  Vivid descriptions of sexual high jinks are now so readily available in fiction that Joyce has become superfluous.  Heck, it won’t be long before you can satisfy the majority of your carnal needs by simply going to a local grocery store and shoplifting a box of Post’s Scratch-and-Sniff Shredded Wheat.” (Note: This product should be available in selected locations by the end of 2019.  Check the Post website for more details).  

But doesn’t Ulysses remain a staple in college literature courses?  “Not really,” says Pwesh.  “For one thing, Joyce is an extremely dead white guy, which works against him being required reading in the current era.  Also, no professor would dare assign this 730-page brick of a book in a world of 40-second attention spans.  Once in a while, in my Irish Cinema course, I’ll have the class watch the 1967 film version of Ulysses, along with the 1959 Disney classic, Darby O’Gill and the Little People starring Sean Connery.  The students write a final paper comparing the psychodynamics of Leopold Bloom and Darby O’Gill.  It works pretty well.”

University Life reporters interviewed dozens of Buttigieg’s classmates from Harvard and Pembroke College in England, where he obtained his master’s degree.  None could recall ever seeing him with a copy of Ulysses, even after being shown various covers of the volume in an attempt to jog their memories.  One acquaintance who preferred to remain anonymous remarked, “If Pete had been carrying it around, someone would have noticed.  It’s a pretty fat book, you know.”

Is it possible that Buttigieg has confused Ulysses with Finnegan’s Wake, another Joyce classic?  “Impossible,” says Pwesh.  “There is no credible evidence that ANYONE has ever read Finnegan’s Wake.  This tome resides in hundreds of thousands of libraries around the world, but not once has it been checked out.”

Candidate Buttigieg, the ball is in your court. What say you?

 

Adjunct Faculty, Seize Your Destiny!

Don’t act surprised.

You had to see this coming.

In August 2019, Arizona State University will become the first school in the country to have a part-time President. 

According to Ron Shoopman, Chair of the Arizona Board of Regents, appointing an Adjunct President will further solidify ASU’s reputation as THE innovation leader in U. S. higher education.  “ASU has already staked its claim as the nation’s foremost provider of online education; our number of online students now exceeds the population of the pre-Brexit European Union.  And next year ASU will start enrolling dolphins in its associate’s degree program in Marine Biology, as we enter the Brave New World of non-human mammalian education.   So it’s only fitting that Arizona State should be the first institution to employ an Adjunct President.  The cost savings will be enormous.”

Shoopman makes a compelling case.  Consider the following:

—  The President’s position will be 20 hours per week, eliminating the need for ASU to provide health insurance.

—  The President will share an office with seven adjuncts in the English Department.  The current President’s office will be converted into a “maker-space” lab for students in ASU’s Lego Design master’s program.

—  While a starting salary has yet to be determined, it will not exceed $60,000.  (This figure includes compensation for a four-course-per-year teaching load.)  A one-time bonus of up to $5000 will be awarded if the President succeeds in expanding the Marine Biology program to porpoises, manatees, and igneous rocks within two years.  “This last one is a stretch goal,” notes Shoopman.  “But it’s worth shooting for.  There are a gazillion rocks out there, virtually none with degrees.”

—  The President and Provost will share a parking space, alternating their days on campus during the week.  The Provost, a full-time employee, will work from home on Fridays. 

Shoopman was animated when discussing the rationale for having an Adjunct President.  “Let’s face it, this place pretty much runs itself these days.  We could start an online bachelor’s program in Mouse Droppings Analysis tomorrow and have 250 students enrolled within a month.  It’s like having a license to print money.  Who needs a full-time President with an Ivy League pedigree just to count the bucket-loads of cash flowing in?  Hell, my 19-year-old nephew could do this job, and Corky doesn’t have the brains it would take to turn his chair around and face the ocean if he worked as a lifeguard.”

Applications for the position of ASU President are due May 1st.  You must have a high school diploma and no criminal convictions in the past three years.  Two letters of recommendation are required, neither of which can be from a relative or a pet.  Please send a urine sample in a tightly sealed container along with your cover letter.  (Important: Do not put your cover letter in the container.)  Preference will be given to applicants who can defeat an igneous rock in a best-of-three checkers match.

Thank you, ASU, for advancing the cause of both adjunct faculty rights and cost-conscious financial stewardship. 

 

 

What the PLUCK?

William McRaven, former chancellor of the University of Texas system,  claims that leading an academic institution is “the toughest job in the nation.”

Just for the record, Mr. McRaven has never worked the night shift at a chicken processing plant in Arkansas. 

Law and Order: JHU

It didn’t take long for life to get interesting at Johns Hopkins University after the Maryland General Assembly recently approved a bill that allows the school to create its own armed police force.

Just two days later, JHU President Ronald Daniels announced the hiring of  Avery “Screaming Falcon” Bondine, a 7th-generation West Point graduate who had led a U.S. battalion into Iraq during Operation Desert Storm in 1991.  The retired lieutenant general quickly recruited nearly 100 men and women with military experience (over 80% of whom had received honorable discharges) and began patrolling the school’s Baltimore campus, employing a trio of decommissioned Abrams Battle Tanks. 

His buzz-cut reflecting the morning sunlight, Chief Bondine told a University Life reporter that “when you combine our tank hardware with the firepower of a half-dozen shoulder-mounted rocket launchers and a few surface-to-air missiles, you’ve got the makings of a kick-ass security force.  This campus is going to be safer than a baby kangaroo in its mother’s pouch in a panic room with padded walls.  Hell, you’ll be able to leave a newborn child out in the middle of the Hopkins quad all night, alone, asleep in a crib overflowing with hundred-dollar bills and crack cocaine.  Nobody’s gonna come near ’em.”

As Bondine spoke, he noticed an adjunct instructor parking his car in a space reserved for tenure-track faculty members.  After the instructor left the vehicle, the Chief used his index finger to silently signal an officer across the parking lot.  The officer proceeded to fire his rocket launcher, dispatching the 1996 Toyota Tercel in a spectacular ball of flames that was at least three stories high.

Bondine chuckled.  “Pretty soon we won’t have to worry any more about some self-absorbed pissant with a PhD parking where he shouldn’t.  Hey, young lady, would you like a pinch of Skoal Wintergreen?  You look a little pale.”

Miscreants and low-lifes, take notice.  The Johns Hopkins campus is no longer your playpen.