Thursday, October 22, 2009

Hallucinogenic Potpourri Offering. A New Feature?


There is really no way to explain what it's like to be a moderator at RYS. Here's some mail we've read this week. You tell us what to do with it.


  • I like how the top of the chocolate dipped cone at our cafeteria is soft and the bottom is hard. It's like two treats in one. When I was in college we didn't have that kind of luxury. it's no wonder I can't fill a 9 am class anymore.

  • Are you my teacher?

  • My students call me Daddy, and I really like the way it makes me feel. It's not sexual and all that, but I am a paternally interesting being and I believe it's too their credit that they recognize it.

  • I'm hardly able to tell the difference between the things I'm supposed to be able to quanity the differenvce about. Anymore. It will not be long until the retirement cookie.

  • Where did you get that big head that makes you think our problems don't relate to you and your smackdown buddies? You're going to get ours one day.

  • How does this work? Can I send you what my students say and you can provide me what I'm to say back to them?

  • I think I'm the guy who wrote that post you were asking about. Can you send it back to me because I can't remember what it was I said.

  • You made up a phony name for me, but gave me a city very near where I live. I don't think that's very funny. It's certainly possible that someone in one of the cities nearby will recognize the quality of my language and might put two and 2 to gether to see that I'm the one who wrote all those complaints. I think you should change my name and the city, and then don't even use a city that is nearby, or that has the same letter. Or better yet, just use made up city names like Oshkosh or something, because then nobody will find out, and really you're whole goal isn't to get professors in trouble is it, I mean, you're trying, so don't get me wrong. But when you call someone someone from something then that something has to be unrelated to his geographical place entirely, a different town or city, or just like I said make up names.

  • Tell everyone that being gay is way harder than being a woman. i can't believe how much time you give to your readers who complain about how hard being a woman is. Try being gay I always say to them. That's the hardest. There's no place for gays in my college, and it's not a military or college, just a regular one. And I'm ostracized for so many reasons, being gay being the main one. I can't believe you don't have more gay readers who write for you. The closet is a dark place, and it's hard to teach in here. You should write more about that and what that's like, about being gay in America and being a professor who's gay, not just a woman.

  • When I started teaching, I was the same age as my students will be now after they finish their undergraduate careers, but now just twice as old as I was then, when my father passed on the day of my high school gradation.

  • I learned I could drink gin out of mitten during lecture and still take good enough notes to get an A in the class. All of a sudden, the horrid professor who was at best a pompous ass, made sense via alcohol.

  • Could you please put me in another section of Computing 101 so that I don't have class until 5 p.m. on my birthday?

  • Do you realize that there are 118 days left until the Moman solstice, and that what that will mean to any of us and our ability translate messages and symbols into real careers, even when the job market is as bad as it is; it's still time to use whatever energy the universe gives us and make it work for us. 117 days, actually, now that I refer to the newer calenders.

  • Gulp. Gulpa gulpa gulpa. Do you eat the muffin? Does the muffin eat you?

  • Rather than bore you with my students and their problems, I'm just going to tell you why you're all fucked up. How do you like that? Turnabout is fairplay, my friends and you're about to be visited upon by a hallucinogenic potpourri of such misery. I hope you have your jockstraps on, because the people at Google are going to hear about the shit you're doing on their website.