Many teachers give cumulative examinations at the end of the semester. The only rationalization I can conjure is that most are masochists who want to find out how much knowledge they failed to impart on their students.
As I prepared for one of these opportunities for failure, I began thinking about the semester past. How would I tally such a bizarre and exasperating four months? And most importantly, who do I owe kudos to?
If you’re trying to equate anything about this semester, you most certainly have to make an acknowledgment of the summer’s events. JLO, The Queen, Bloody Mary and the rest of the gang (Chancellor James Oblinger, Chairman of the Board of Trustees McQueen Campbell and Executive-in-Residence Mary Easley, respectively) made the summer far too easy to ridicule. It was an editorialist’s dream. Corruption, scandal and secret e-mails are juicy as far as this page is concerned. For making my summer more enjoyable, the whole gang receives some well-deserved thanks.
Meanwhile, on Hillsborough Street, a motley crew of crazies with construction equipment annihilated what was once a wonderful place to mingle with the homeless. My sense of optimism wants me to believe in the multi-million dollar state-funded project, but the countless pairs of mud-caked shoes in my closet and the business owners who’ve complained to me about lost revenues paint a different tale. Perhaps I wouldn’t be as bitter if the crossing locations didn’t change every other hour? Apologies, I’m regressing.
I know most of you are sick of hearing about Talley; I am also. But two of my favorite moments of the semester — definitely kudos-worthy — occurred during the week following the Student Government fee referendum.
The first of which was the SG meeting right after the fee referendum, where student senators – who, we should note, don’t have any power anyway — rejected the will of the students and rubber-stamped Chancellor Jim Woodward’s fee “recommendation.” It would be an absurd error not to congratulate Woodward on hi-jacking the fee process and the Student Senate for its valiant activism on behalf of students. Of course you understand my budgetary limitations better than I do; that’s why a very tiny fraction of the student population elected you in a glorified popularity contest.
The real story from that timeframe, though, was the protestors at the subsequent Student Senate meeting. Many failed to get their facts straight and seemed to miss what the referendum stood for in the larger scope of the fee process, but the student revolt was a warming sight for a cynic who is too used to apathy amongst students. In particular, I want to thank the student who used his allotted three minutes to read from “Finnegan’s Wake.” Forcing the senators to sit and endure three minutes of Joyce’s cacophonous masterpiece read aloud was priceless. Having talked to Student Body President Jim Ceresnak afterward, I can assure you that even he appreciated the humor in it.
And last, but certainly not least in my sights and sounds of the fall semester, I need to commend the gentleman who stole the neon clock from D.H. Hill Library. It takes an ethereal sort of bravado to stroll out the front door of the library at 10:30 p.m. carrying a giant clock. You’re an idiot for thinking you could get away with it, but the comedic value — especially if you’ve had the pleasure to see the surveillance video of the event –earns you kudos.
It’s not that there weren’t positives this semester; the football team did beat Chapel Hill after all. But I don’t really want to think about the job market — despite the positive news from November — or the pitiful state of the University’s finances. Hopefully during your exam week you can take a minute to laugh and remember that the end is almost here, and the holidays are just around the corner.
