My Folded Rockets Part 2

I know, I’ve heard all the pro-college arguments already. Those people didn’t work hard enough. Finish the degree, a diploma is a foot in the door. What good is a foot in the door when the room’s already packed? The professors are accomplished professionals. Going to a big school you encounter two types of classes.

1) Huge lectures given by PhD’s who don’t give a crap because they’re teaching the most basic part of their field to a group of kids who are forced to take their class.. Nobody wins, tests are a cheat fest, I won’t bother you if you don’t bother me.

2) You have TA’s. People a couple years older than you studying for their own degree and consider teaching you another bump in the road.

I do not claim all professors or TA’s are like this, there are a few exceptional educators here, but they're more scarce than profanity in a Will Smith album. Going to class is listening to an audio book, and getting a piece of paper at the end, proof of purchase, $120,000 in four easy payments. Reading the overly priced textbooks teaches you more than going to class. If I was interested in a subject I’d read an extra book on it, when I asked a TA about it I’d be asked to stay on topic, yeah right he didn’t know what the fuck I was talking about. The quality of people that receive a degree scare me sometimes, this is the future of America? These people who have a hard time spelling and think Wedding Crashers is an intelligent comedy are college graduates? I’m embarrassed to go to the same school as most of these people.

Don’t be stupid get the degree and then follow your dream, it’s only four years, no matter what job you have a degree will get your more money/respect/testicular fortitude. I was listening to the radio one day, the guy was talking about pursuing your life goals and people who set money as their goal live unhappy lives. I look around the bus (where else would I be listening to the radio) people either chatted away on their phones or bobbed their head to whatever bomb musician they were listening to. He said that money comes and goes; some never run out while others can’t get any. There’s one thing that we can’t get more of and will run out no matter what, time. The only time we get is from when we start breathing till we stop, no more, no redos, a crappy time is non-refundable, ask your local dealer for more information. How can we put a price on life? I got off the bus and everyone continued whatever they were doing, I was off to sell my life at $8.50 an hour.

The other week I spent around 11 hours (not in one sitting) writing a five page report on Barack Obama’s American Opportunity Tax Credit. I handed it in during office hours, my TA looked at the title skimmed through it randomly putting checks and topped it off with an A-. Are you kidding me? 11 hours to write, 20 seconds to evaluate, when I asked him what was wrong with it he said, “I never give A’s”…well suck me off and shit on my nipples. I should’ve asked him for $93.50 (minus social security and medicare of course) it seems to be the going rate for my life. All this time I put into this work that will barely pay off, 15% of a 3-credit class, 120 credits to graduate. Hey it could be worse; I could be paying for this.

When does it stop? When do I get to do what I like? Judging by the way things were going, never. The American Dream is bullshit. The only thing I can compare it to is MC Escher’s Ascending and Descending, always climbing but never reaching. Every step you take they tell you it’ll be at the next one, then the next one, ad infinitum. How different is this from life, do good in elementary and middle school then you get to go to high school, you have more freedom and can even choose some classes. Wait till you get to college you can choose all your classes and have more freedom. Wait till you get a job, you’ll work and have more freedom. Wait till you get promoted, you’ll do less work and have more freedom. Where do I get off? When do I finally reach the top? The American dream is just getting promised free candy and then getting violently raped in the back of a windowless van by a guy who goes by the name of a household appliance. Mister, I want out of this fucking van.

Despite this, everyone follows these steps that lead to the molestation of what you used to call a life. I’m calling him out, BAD TOUCH! BAD TOUCH! I see past your lies, criticize the blue collar society? Last I noticed the only difference between you and them was the color. We slave our lives away for the promise of happiness, we delay it now to have it later. Maybe you’re OK with that, but I can’t live my life that way. I have childish dreams of being a writer, comedian or a poker player. Fuck a significant life, your life’s work will just be skimmed through with someone randomly placing checks on it. I’d rather enjoy it, there’s so much this world has to offer. There’s so much to see, cities and monuments, nature and boobs.

Spending four years here, then 5-10 minimum in a company, the idea makes me nauseous. The most important things I’ve learned have been from real people, people who’ve succeeded at life and aren’t forced to teach because they’ve failed. Life is the best teacher, how can we learn if we keep on postponing it? I need out of this system, I sent out my application to the University of Life and am waiting my answer. I’ll try to get to the top on my own because I know I’ll never reach it on these stairs, perhaps a ladder? Getting my degree in Journalism/Philosophy, I’ll throw away this hand, a poker tournament has never been won off of pocket Aces.

My Folded Rockets Part 1

There’s nothing worse than not knowing how to open an essay. You got all the ideas floating around in that noggin of yours, but the part that puts them together is still napping off the suspiciously cheap vodka from last night. Well, here it goes, I’m folding my rockets, I’m going to lay down the best hand I’ve been dealt.

I’m currently a student of a second-tier state university with an over budgeted athletic program, and I go here for free, joy. Boy was I lied to. You work your way through an overly Christian and conservative high school that considers freedom of speech to be on the same level of alcohol, inappropriate for underage use. The kids there are the same, miniatures of their breeders, soon to take their spot as CEO of Stick’N’Anus enterprises. Teachers were apathetic and anyone who could deal with this lot of spoiled children was immediately hired. My comments got me in trouble, my sense of humor was blasphemous, I was promised that if I did well I’d go to a decent college, more liberal, a place where the tiny seed that is my brain could blossom into a beautiful white collar flower. I did what they said. Fuck yeah, I was getting the hell out of there. A land filled with unique people, alcohol and females with questionable morals, smells like home.

My first semester here was like the first time I went to McDonalds. You see it on TV, a place with playgrounds, clowns, mascots of unknown gender and mouthwatering burgers that are plump and ooze with flavor. The 2 story playground with a huge swirling slide that you promise yourself you’ll ride until you puke. And then you go. You walk in knees shaking with excitement. It doesn’t look as good as the one on TV but that’s ok it still looks awesome. You go up to the counter and order your first kids meal with the 4$ you just asked your mom for so you can buy it yourself. You see the obese minorities and lanky teens in the back making your food, everyone in the commercial was attractive…meh who cares.

You get your food and bolt to the playground, not before you run back to the counter because you forgot your orange soda. Wow. Holy shit. This place is awesome. Ball pit, check. Awesome slide, check. Cockpit, complete with plastic bubble and steering wheel, check. You take out your gourmet meal and then it’s all downhill from there. The perfect burger you were promised looks like someone had sat on it and farted, repeatedly. The fries are cold and the toy is a piece of shit. My heart is broken.

At least you still have the playground. You walk in only to be hit by the smell of socks and stale vomit. You run to the slide, that’ll be worth it. You reach the top and that excitement you had when you came in is back. You sit on the edge, fingers cold and heart beating. You let go…and you let go… What the fuck? You’re not moving, you have to push yourself every 5 inches. Your dreams of shooting out the slide at 80 miles per hour, rolling on the mat and finishing in an awe-inspiring pose are dead. Is this really it? Is this really what you promised me?

Besides my major that promised great rewards after 4 years of sacrifice (mechanical engineering) the scene didn’t change much. Being a state school with 71% in-state students the only diversity I found was in the mirror. Everyone had their high school click, everyone went home for the weekends it was basically a 30k a year daycare for young adults, and they’re still kids. Being an honors student in this “prestigious” institution made me feel like a one eyed man in the land of the blind, the problem is I have two. I went to job fairs and talked with alumni. The successful ones needed Viagra for sex and the young ones needed a miracle. Recent grads –if they were lucky enough to be employed- told me that the only had to keep on working hard and do slave labor for 5-10 years before they made senior engineer and could start living the good life. Excuse me? I was promised 50K a year starting salary. Fill one hand with promises and the other with shit; see which one fills up first. 9-15 years before my life picks up, before the promises I’m promised now are fulfilled. Excuse me, but fuck you. I was told to change my major. It’s not about the money; it’s about doing something your passionate about. It’s hard to pick your passion out of catalogue. Change it to something you like, a field where the tiny seed that is your brain can blossom into a beautiful white collar flower. I did what they said. Same shit different asshole.

To those of you who graduated college you’re probably aware of the calls asking you to support your alma mater with a donation of 250$, that’s me on the other line. This job showed me the value of a college degree. Retired without a penny, unemployed, living with parents 15 years after graduation, unemployed, drowning in debt, working in a restaurant, unemployed, drives a truck, unemployed, unemployed…these people went to the same place I did, promised the same things I was, their Aces cracked. Those with enough money to donate made it out of wit; most times there degree had nothing to do with their wealth. What was their secret, how did they succeed where so many failed? What am I doing here? Did I really puke in the shower last night?