The Black Sheep
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• a college newspaper that’s actually about college •
Volume 1, Issue 2 9/13/12 - 9/19/12
Wait List Magic
theblacksheeponline.com @blacksheepUVA
Pierce Bishop wrote this
It is such an annoyingly political time of year. So much jostling for position, constant viewing of figures to see who is in the lead, checking on multiple websites to see the latest moves…yeah, the time of year where the wait list game is at its peak is grueling. But what really pushes some people into a class and not others? The professors, of course. If you think it’s SIS then you’re on the same thing the professors are on (seriously, making a career out of purportedly enlightening the minds of the youth…really?). Yes, we are all aware that they say it’s out of their hands, but somehow you magically get jumped over on the wait list by some person way at the back of the line. Then, there are those people who always seem to be on the wait list but never miss out on being in the class. With no obvious rash of murders, you wonder how they do it. Canoodling? Cavorting? Sake bombs? Professor worship? It really isn’t clear. Now, many of you may think it is always the girls that get in, especially the hot ones. Not really, folks. In fact, most of the girls that get in late like that, if from a questionable liaison, would have gotten in from a Monica Lewinsky- President Clinton situation. Besides, professors normally know better than to be that obviously creepy; they save their creepiness for a different realm (fascist obsession, talk of women beating, their collection of China dolls). Again, they’re professors so they have to keep that “unique” thing going in their lives. No, the way people get in is by brown nosing, sucking up, fawning…you choose the phrase, but you know what it is. This is “that guy” who goes to office hours…the first week. They introduce themselves after the first class to say, “I’m not enrolled in the class yet but I just must take this class before leaving the prestigious University of Virginia. You come so highly regarded by my former professors.” Oh, the seed has been planted. They think, “oh, yes, that’s right, I am renowned across Grounds.” They do that little mental fist pump, but that brown noser has only just whetted the professor’s appetite with their seed. There must be some way to keep the affair going. Boom! Then comes the office hour. Hello again. You may not remember my name but it’s…
Why, it is indeed, my boy. Do you have a certain fascination with him as I do myself? Like no other, professor! I find his depiction of light and space of the utmost intrigue.
No! Of course, I remember you said Professor whatshisname had mentioned my book on…
You are such a fine lad! I’m sorry did you say you were not enrolled before? Let me resolve this post-haste using my magic deSIStifyer.
I’m sorry to interrupt but is that a calendar containing works by Hopper?
Yup, just like that, we all lose. “That guy” just went in and faked a love for an American painter…AN AMERICAN PAINTER. Come
collier’s: towing your life away.
doubly so, if you’re living in your car.
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what’s inside tas 101
An introductory course in managing the grey area between professor and student.
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on, he doesn’t know who Hopper is. He thinks Picasso is Play-Doh for adults and Impressionism is doing his Christopher Walken voice. Nevertheless, dude jumped your spot on the SIS wait list… magically, with actual magic. What are we to do? YOU WILL GET NOTHING AND LIKE IT. Wait, no, worse…you will be banished to a Monday-Wednesday-Friday 9 a.m. Gender Studies class in Cabell basement. You may now embrace your sorrow and irrelevance. Take caution when re-examining your dignity as these contents certainly shifted during the fight to get into the class.
I’ll Try the Next Size Up...
Only after you try another eclair, fatty fat-fat.
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