Two Years In: Liberal Arts Student Still Not Sure What His Degree Is For
Abandoned as an infant high in the mountains of Colorado, James was taken in and raised by a family of marmots. They trained him in the art of satire, but warned him: ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ He didn’t understand the truth of their words until his adopted rodent brother, Donald Trump’s hair, turned to the dark side.
James could only sit by and watch, helpless and appalled, as his evil brother meme’d his way to the White House. Forever changed by what he had seen, James fled to The Netherlands and vowed to always use his powers for good.
Disturbing news out of the University College this week: a local student entering his third year realized with sudden, gut wrenching clarity that he still doesn’t know what his degree is for.
‘I thought I’d specialise at some point,’ he said. ‘Instead I’ve just done a little bit of everything. Now I’m one year away from graduating and I can’t even begin to imagine what sort of job I’m qualified to do. Like, what, am I supposed to be a politician? Trust me, you don’t want me in charge of anything. I’ve supposedly spent the past two years studying politics, economics, culture, and philosophy, and all I’ve learned is that it’s all made up, and in the long run we’re all dead.’
The student observed that many fields of study, from medicine and law, to more ‘financially risky’ options like creative writing or theater have ‘almost painfully obvious’ career paths, while the hodgepodge of social sciences many students at the UC are taking is about as marketable as ‘the plague.’
‘Maybe I should go to one of those major market things I keep hearing about,’ he said.
The Staff Aren’t Helping
The student reportedly found, to his dismay, that the backgrounds of the UC staff are far too eclectic to give him any direction, not to mention a sense of job security.
‘The dean, Hans Van Ees, was in a rock band, and then somehow ended up in corporate governance,’ said the student, rifling through a dossier of lecturers. ‘Wander Jager is basically that guy from Mamma Mia who lives on a sailboat… It just gets weirder from here.’
At this point the student was at a loss, and simply curled up in the corner.
‘Tell me how the transition from rock band to corporate governance makes sense,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t. When I asked him about it, he mumbled something about a ‘favor for the mob’ and then kicked me out of his office. He hasn’t talked to me since.’