Registering for classes is a chaotic jumble that shatters the
spine of hope and punctures the lungs of dreams. In the largest
class in the history of CSU, getting a seat in a desirable class is
a game of musical chairs, sans music and childlike innocence.
However, with the right mix of a sunny disposition and mild head
trauma, you can accomplish anything. Sometimes you can see neat
colors along the way.
Back when space pirates founded the university in 1741,
registration was simple. Teachers were abundant, men were men,
women were women, everything else was violently repressed and
wholesome American values dribbled like melting snow down the
mountainside. It was a lot like living in a postcard, except most
postcards neglect the space pirates.
But the real key here is that classes were smaller back then.
Whether it’s overpopulation or more people attending universities
or deforestation, attendance at CSU has been swelling like a zit on
a balloon. As a collection of great minds and problem solvers, this
overcrowding problem is but one more problem to crush, bug-like,
beneath the gigantic foot of our collective genius. Nothing can
stop us! Nothing!
Current solutions involve raising tuition, which is bad because
college students love money. So do taxpayers – only they’re more
determined about it, so no help there. Other fundraising ideas
included a bake sale and a bachelor auction, but according to a
number I read off of a cereal box, it would take “sixty-bazillion”
brownies to make CSU financially stable again. And you don’t really
need to “auction” bachelors so much as “restrain” them.
No, we’ll just have to learn to cope with increased class sizes
or counterfeit money, which I can’t legally advocate, even if it
was just a silly Euro. Speaking of Europe, we can get an
interesting idea on coping with increased class size from European
countries’ busses and our hamburgers – double-deckers. The class is
crowded horizontally, but really all that vertical space is just
being needlessly wasted. Stacking the decks and students on top of
each other would form a mighty pyramid of knowledge and a fire code
violation of excellence.
There’s also the teacher shortage, or rather, the
teachers-being-stretched-too-thin-age. The underlying assumption
here is that every class needs a teacher to teach it. Naturally,
this is crazy talk. Science has built machines that can read words
out loud, straight from the book. They could even be programmed to
cough significantly whenever they reach a test question, just like
a real teacher always should. Regrettably, the machine wouldn’t be
able to answer questions or explain assignments, but really, who
Now, there’s still the influx of students. We don’t need them
taking up precious, precious seats. The next time you see or lead a
tour group of incoming students, try to discourage them. Mention
that the real reason for water restrictions was to thwart the
rampant gremlin infestation. Tell of the horrors of being hazed by
a gang of tenured teachers. But make sure they spend time in the
gift shop. After all, we really need their money.