by Joe Buonfiglio
At the time this tidbit of Absurdist wisdom was crafted, the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill was in high-drama mode over a reprehensible little scandal that caught the national attention of both jocks and eggheads alike. It seems that the fighting Tar Heels got lambasted over the confirmed accusations surrounding decades of fraud and academic dishonesty committed by the esteemed southern academic-institution and college-sports powerhouse with regard to the utilization of so-called “paper classes,” a “shadow curriculum” designed to keep student-athletes eligible for competition. Whether this bogus coursework received such nomenclature due to it being an actual class on paper only, or that it usually required nothing other than a single paper to be turned in that would never be graded for a “lecture class” that never even met, is debatable. And since the distinction is so slight either way, it still renders UNC a detestable villain with a metaphoric black eye so big it should cause some significant metaphoric hemorrhaging.
Or should it?
Thank God only UNC is pulling this kind of intellectual engineering within the ranks of its athletic teams. It must be the only school out there inflating the academic prowess attributed to the participants of its football and basketball programs in order to rake the big bucks into its coffers from out of the pockets of its wealthy alumni, right? That couldn’t be happening at colleges and universities anywhere else in the country, now could it?
Yeah. Right. And the Brits never do a bit of sheep-shagging on a cold winter’s night, there has never been a round of makin’ the ol’ pig squeal along the Cahulawassee River in Georgia a la Deliverance, and no way did my cousin Toddy get hammered and bang that stolen zoo-monkey behind the stack of keg empties at my last Halloween party during th— Okay, we don’t need to go there, but you get my drift.
See, the mistake North Carolina’s flagship university made was in trying to mask this nefarious strategy within the boundaries of a legitimate African Studies Department. That smacks of unethical clandestine behavior right out of the gate.
What they should have done is to be completely aboveboard about it all. If they had openly displayed— No, if they had flaunted it as a department unto itself — designed with the intellectually-challenged dumbasses sparingly populated within, but strategically significant to the jock-itch set overtly in mind — it would have amounted to no more than a 10-second sound bite on ESPN.
In other words, pick up the ball and run with it!
With this public relations stratagem as a foundation, here now are my…
TOP TEN MOST POPULAR CLASSES
from My Prototype
DEPARTMENT OF STUPID-ATHLETES
(A Division of Alumni Development)
#10 — CAMOUFLAGE 101: If you show up to class, you fail. (Pretty simple, really.)
#9 — YOUR PENIS AND YOU: (aka “Your Vagina and You”) Take a picture of your junk/your vaj and post it on the class’ Twitter page. If the professor likes it, you pass.
NOTE: Unattractive genitalia can earn extra credit by dressing the subject matter in costume before photographing … particularly beer-bottle-sized hats left over from your local bar’s Cinco de Mayo promotions. Teacher LOVES the pequeño sombrero Mexicano. That’s right. Work that little churro. Uh-huh. You know what I like. Show your prof-daddy that dancin’ taco. That’s it. That’s it.
#8 — TOWEL-SNAPPING FOR BEGINNERS: In the locker room, snap your towel against the bare ass of a teammate hard enough to make him/her scream aloud. Must be verified by an assistant coach or higher. (Yes, the coach’s word you did it is good enough for us.) Extra credit earned for: A) surprise attacks on the team captain; B) causing actual welting; C) attacks engaged while victim is in the process of taking a dick pic.
#7 — COUNTING TO THREE: Okay, counting to two is acceptable…. … … All right, you can count to one if you don’t use your fingers…. … … Okay, you can use your fingers … finger.… … … Oh, fuck it. You pass.
#6 — SHAPE IDENTIFICATION 101: No, that’s not a triangle. Try again…. … … No, it’s not a square, but you’re getting closer. Take another crack at it…. … … Come on. You can do this. It’s round … like a … liiiiiike aaaaaaaa— No, a football isn’t round. Try the ball from another sport. Go on. You can do it. There’s dunking. A court, not a field. A lot of really tall guys in shorts…. No, this isn’t a trick question. Yes, it’s still round like a type of ball. It’s round like a— It’s round like aaaaaaaaaa— Oh for Christ’s sake, take your hand out of your pants!
#5 — ADVANCED NAPPING: Did you sleep in class? Great! You’re eligible to play in the homecoming game.
#4 — STEROIDS MASTER CLASS: Test positive? YOU PASSED!
#3 — AGENTS OF CHANGE: Okay, again, can you take money or any form of significant gift or compensation from an agent or pro-team representative while you’re playing college sports? … No. Try again…. No, try again…. Nope…. No! Look, just mouthing “yes” instead of actually saying it doesn’t make the answer magically correct. Try again. Can you take money or gifts from agents while playing on a college team? No, forming a Y with your body while singing the refrain from the “YMCA” song doesn’t make it any— Fuck it. You passed. Go suit up.
#2 — INTRO TO “PERSONAL” BIOLOGY: This course consists of eating 25 cheeseburgers, sneaking in on your dorm roommate while he/she is sleeping, dropping trou, sitting bare-assed squarely on their face and engaging in mephitic flatulation. “Wet” farts earn extra credit. Somehow incorporating a Dutch-oven effect gains points toward your future honorary doctorate degree should you eventually attain sports’ celebrity status in the pros.
#1 — THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE WHATEVER AND BLAH-BLAH-BLAH SOMETHING IN SOCIETY: Be careful. This is a weed-out course. (READ: The professor is out of weed. You score him some kine bud; you pass.)
Is this exhibiting a brazen disrespect for the hallowed halls of higher learning and the mostly gifted students who pass through them?
Magna Cum Laude? “With Great Praise?” Honor?
To hell with that! This is college sports, baby! Gotta shake that moneymaker! Making sure our student-athletes get a quality education in college just isn’t on our nation’s radar screen … or coach’s clipboard. Look, the pee-wee leagues supply raw meat up the food chain to the middle schools. The middle schools pump it up to the high schools. The high schools push it out to the colleges. When the colleges can’t squeeze another development dime or merchandising penny out of their student-bodies, they projectile vomit ’em into the pros. The pros grind them up, bang their brains around in their skulls and eventually flush what’s left of them down the societal shitter; it’s all done for my own, personal enjoyment and that of the rest of Spectator America.
So if these “student-athletes” get a counterfeit education while I’m fat and happy watching them on my favorite bar’s big-screen TV as I slam back prodigious amounts of Buffalo wings and swill beer ’til I puke, I don’t see what the big deal is. Hell, it’s not my kid…
… and I’ll make damn sure it never is.
No, I’m sorry. “Erotic Puppetry 101” is full this semester. May I suggest “Intro to Cereal Ingestion”?
© 2014 Joseph P. Buonfiglio All Rights Reserved.