Underwood, Scotch, and Wry

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Underwood, Scotch, and Wry Page 8

by Brian D. Meeks


  “Did you give her the launch codes?”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. That isn’t why I called, but good for you. No, I just had a conversation with a student.”

  “Really? You generally don’t like to be bothered outside office hours.”

  “It was on Twitter.”

  “Who was the student? Is she a hottie?”

  “I have no idea, and it was a he.”

  “Craig?”

  Arthur laughed, “I don’t think so. I hadn’t really gotten the point of Twitter until now. It seemed like a mindless stream of links and inane comments, but, if one wants, one can have a discussion. It is like email or texting, but one doesn’t know who is going to show up.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I asked how people were doing and got some replies, but one of them led to a brief back and forth about school, and the student sent me a link.”

  “What sort of link?”

  “To a blog post he read for his homework. It is a comparison of Snooki and Toni Morrison.”

  “That sounds hilarious. Was it good?”

  “That’s what he said, and I don’t know. I haven’t read it yet.”

  “What’s your Twitter handle?”

  Arthur told him. A moment later he had another follower. Arthur asked, “Why do you want to follow me? Don’t you get enough of my abuse?”

  “Apparently not, but now if you RT the link, I can read the post.”

  “You’re going to read it?”

  “Sure, it sounds funny. It sounds like the sort of thing you’d write.”

  The words were like a fire alarm going off. Arthur had meant to tell Eric that he had written something but had forgotten. Now, in the light of day, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to let out his secret. “I’m going to go and give it a read.”

  “Me, too. Tweet at you later.”

  Arthur hung up and started to read.

  Waxing UnLyrical

  April 4th, 2011

  “Snooki v. Toni Morrison”

  “I don’t know Snooki. I can say with confidence that I would prefer to be beaten about the head and shoulders with a block of hardened, aged Gouda than to watch ‘The Jersey Shore.’ And yet, I feel like I want to write a lengthy rant and mock her and the show because of my perceptions. That would be unfair.

  “It was announced that Snooki will be speaking at a major college on the east coast. She will be receiving $32,000. I applaud her for getting the gig. Toni Morrison, the first black woman to win the Nobel Prize in literature, will also speak. She will receive $30,000.

  “I have not read anything by Toni Morrison, so I know as much about her as I do Snooki. Shall we take a look at the two of them?

  ‘If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.’

  -Toni Morrison

  “I love that quote. It makes me want to read more of her work.

  ‘Everybody google it because that’s why the water is salty. Fucking whale sperm.’

  -Snooki

  “I am not a marine biologist, but I think she may have been misinformed. I must admit I didn’t google it, though, so I reserve judgment. (I hate that Microsoft Word won’t recognize ‘google’ as a verb. Stupid squiggly lines of judgment. I digress.)

  “1-0 Toni Morrison takes the lead.

  At some point in life the world’s beauty becomes enough. You don’t need to photograph, paint, or even remember it. It is enough.’

  -Toni Morrison

  “I am a photographer, so I can’t imagine NOT photographing it, but I suspect she is right. It is a fine quote regardless.

  ‘I don’t go tanning anymore because Obama put a 10% tax on tanning. I feel like he did that intentionally for us, like McCain would never put a 10% tax on tanning because he is pale and would probably wanna be tan.’

  -Snooki

  “Rachael Maddow and Glenn Beck can suck it! This is the sort of in-depth political analysis that this country needs to drag us out of this terrible recession and help choose our leaders.

  “1-1

  ‘As you enter positions of trust and power, dream a little before you think.’

  -Toni Morrison

  “This seems wise beyond my ability to comprehend. My gut tells me it’s genius, but I suspect that only the Dali Lama can truly appreciate the quote. I’m sure there are layers and layers to this simple idea. Well done, Toni.

  ‘I don’t eat friggin’ lobster or anything like that. Because they’re alive when you kill it.’

  -Snooki

  “Maybe she is a marine biologist? Maybe she is a distant cousin of Yogi Berra? Still, the point goes to Toni.

  “2-1

  ‘We die. That may be the meaning of life. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives.’

  -Toni Morrisison

  “A solid entry. Clearly Toni can tell Snooki is on the ropes. Did she pull her punch?

  ‘Even though we’re tiny bitches I don’t give a shit. I will fucking attack you like a squirrel monkey.’

  -Snooki

  “I didn’t see that one coming, but I laughed. ‘Monkey’ is always a funny word. Point to Snooki.

  “2-2

  ‘Along with the idea of romantic love, she was introduced to another--physical beauty. Probably the most destructive ideas in the history of human thought. Both originated in envy, thrived in insecurity, and ended in disillusion.’

  -Toni Morrisison (The Bluest Eye)

  “I can see why she won a Nobel prize. That is some fine wordsmithing. Let’s see what Snooki has to say in response.

  ‘I am tanned; I like being tanned, BITCH!’

  -Snooki

  “It was a surprisingly close match, but in the end Toni won 3-2.

  “Aaaarghhh…No. She didn’t! Toni Morrison is a national treasure; Snooki is not. There isn’t a score card in the galaxy that would read 3-2; it is 5-0 every time. I made it close to keep you reading and for that I apologize. Ms. Morrison won a Nobel in literature; do I need to say it again?

  “I won’t mention the school that deemed Snooki to be $2000 dollars more valuable than Ms. Morrison. Nor will I bash Snooki further as I would gladly take the money, too. I will, however, berate the dregs of society that decided to place a greater value on Snooki than Toni Morrison. I am sure the students will think it is great, because they are the generation who made Snooki, in their own image.

  “I hope Toni takes her Nobel Prize, melts it down, and fashions a club for beating the stupid out of the attendees. Or at the very least, goes squirrel monkey on them.”

  Arthur loved it and tweeted to the student, “Thanks, that was fantastic. A good find, indeed.”

  Another tweet landed on his screen from Eric: “LOL.”

  Arthur may have been living in the past, but even he recognized that shorthand.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Dean Mary Shingle waited outside President Grosvenor’s office. His previous meeting was running twenty minutes late. She hated to be kept waiting.

  The door opened, and four, old, white men in dark suits spilled into the outer office. Their mood was dour with a hint of bourbon and entitlement. After they filed past, President Grosvenor said, “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Mary. Please come inside.”

  He didn’t offer her a cigar or drink but merely motioned to the chair. “How are things going with our little project?”

  “Well, it isn’t working out like I had planned.”

  “No, it certainly has not. We are eight weeks into the semester, and it is a disaster. Have you seen today’s student paper?”

  “Not yet. Why?”

  “There is a rather lengthy article about SMS 301. It seems Dr. Byrne has not wilted under the pressure and has, by their account, flourished.”

  “I’m as surprised as anyone.”

  “I quote, ‘The class has been generating a lot of buzz and not just on Twitter and Facebook but among the student bo
dy. Last Wednesday, 145 students showed up to hear the lecture, which is impressive considering there are only 104 people enrolled in the class.’ It goes on from there talking about some of the blogs the students have created. It seems one student’s post on global fuel prices got picked up by CNN.”

  “Really, CNN?”

  “Damn it! Dr. Byrne has become more than just a drunken blight on this university’s sterling reputation. He has left his stain on me.”

  Mary didn’t know where he was going with this. “I understand. I’m upset, too. I was so looking forward to being rid of him, but what can I do? We can’t fire him for doing a good job.”

  “He isn’t just doing a good job; he is becoming a goddamn hero. Yesterday, registration began. Do you know how long it took for SMS 301 to fill up?”

  It was obviously a rhetorical question, so she shrugged.

  “Twenty-three minutes. At 8:23 all the slots were taken. Never in the history of this school has a class been so popular,” he screamed and slammed the paper down on his desk.

  “I guess we underestimated him.”

  “I guess I underestimated you!”

  “That’s not fair. I’ve kept a close eye on him, but...”

  “Do you know who those men leaving my office were?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “They are on the search committee for a major Ivy League school, and my name has just moved from the long list to the short one.”

  “Congrats, so does that mean his success is helping?”

  “No, that is not what it means! They are going over every detail of life here on our little college campus with only one goal: to find a reason to knock me out of the running. They are aware of Dr. Byrne and asked why I hadn’t handled the situation sooner. I’ve explained that he is on the way out, but now I need to make that happen. Do you understand?”

  “I’m not sure I do. What do you propose I do? He obviously isn’t going to get the bad reviews we need to make a claim he has failed. It looks like the plan is dead.”

  “Mary, you are a fine administrator, but your creative thinking prowess leaves a bit to be desired. There is more than one way to skin a drunken, tenured professor.”

  Mary said nothing.

  “If we can’t get him for poor performance, what else might we have at our disposal?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know. I thought we had him at the beginning of the semester. What are you suggesting?”

  “Think Mary. You know our charter and bylaws better than anyone.”

  Mary did think, but she was in a poor mood after all of his abuse. Nothing came to mind.

  “Have you considered the morality clause?”

  “I have not,” she said. Her voice changed, “But you may be onto something.”

  He let her think. The wheels were turning, and it would be better if it was her idea.

  “The morality clause is perfect. This weekend, with everyone in town for homecoming, the game, and the chances that we will win on Saturday, will make it a festive time.”

  “Yes, go on.”

  She started to pace, “While it is surprising how quickly he has adapted, he is still the same Philistine he was at the beginning of the semester. If Arthur is out drinking - and why wouldn’t he be? - and with his rising popularity, then it is more than likely that he will find himself in a situation that is utterly inappropriate.”

  “My thinking exactly. How do we use that bit of information?”

  “If someone posts pictures from the debauchery that I’m sure will ensue Saturday, then there is a very good chance we may see him involved.”

  “Yes, but is it really wise to leave it up to chance? I mean, we know he will be out among the students and alumni, but what if nobody happens to take a picture at the right time. What if it isn’t posted?”

  “I see your point.”

  “Louis Pasteur said, ‘Fortune favors the prepared mind.’”

  “I should make sure there is someone keeping an eye on him with a camera phone.”

  “That sounds like some excellent preparation.”

  “I have just the person.”

  “I don’t need to know any of the details. Perhaps you’d like a cigar for later,” he said, holding out the box of Cubans.

  Mary took one, gave an understanding grin, and left. She thought as she walked out the door, “Finally, the chickens are homecoming to roost, Dr. Byrne.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  Arthur, walking with purpose, was flagged down by Eric, who asked, “Where have you been?”

  “Is that an existential question?” he replied but didn’t stop walking.

  “I haven’t seen you at the Pit in ages.”

  “I think it’s been four days.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I said.”

  “I’ve been refusing to admit I have a problem and have instead chosen to gradually cut back on my social drinking.”

  “How’s that treating you?”

  “Slow and steady, my friend, slow and steady.”

  “What about this weekend?”

  “Homecoming? I’ll be undoing all the good work I’ve done and then some.”

  “Seriously, though, what have you been up to?”

  “Just hanging out in the virtual worlds of social media.”

  “You’re taking this class far more seriously than you should.”

  “I’m embracing the future, and you would be amazed how much stupid stuff there is to make fun of online. I’ve got to get to a meeting with my TAs.”

  Arthur entered the study room at the library. It had become the de facto meeting space because he didn’t like the lighting in the normal conference room.

  “Morning, everyone, let’s get started. I want to begin by asking if anyone has read Susan’s post she put up last night?”

  Susan blushed.

  “I’m assuming the silence means no. I read it this morning over breakfast and I’ve got to say it’s fantastic. In the last few weeks your writing has gotten razor sharp. I want to highlight your post during tomorrow’s class.”

  “What’s the post about?” Kurt asked.

  Arthur said, “Why don’t you tell them, Susan?”

  “I wrote about the battle between Apple and Samsung from the point of view of their most loyal fans.”

  Kurt said, “Great idea.”

  “Thanks.”

  Arthur said, “It was both thoughtful and funny. I didn’t know you had that in you.”

  Susan shrugged.

  Arthur continued, “I’ve got an idea for the mid-term paper. I think we should have everyone write about their experiences with blogging and give three pieces of advice to people who want to give it a try.”

  Wen asked, “How long will the paper be?”

  Arthur said, “I was thinking a thousand words.”

  Wen asked, “Are they going to turn in their papers or post them on their blogs?”

  Arthur didn’t answer. He paced a little and asked, “I hadn’t thought about that. What do the rest of you think?”

  Lawrence said, “If we let them post on their blogs, some students may just take the ideas from their friends.”

  Arthur nodded then said, “Couldn’t they do that anyway?”

  “Yes, but it would be much easier.”

  A. said, “If we had them all post at the same time, say an hour before class on the day it is due, that might solve the problem.”

  “A., good idea,” Arthur said. He asked, “Is it overkill?”

  Wen answered, “It seems like almost all of the students have really gotten into blogging.”

  Lawrence added, “If I had a chance to do that for my mid-terms, I would have loved it. The paper feels less like an assignment and more like creating something of value.”

  “Susan, you have anything to add?”

  “I like it,” she said with a thumbs up.

  “Okay, that is settled. Next, tomorrow I want to talk about building followers or, more accurately, the incredibly s
tupid hashtag ‘#TeamFollowBack.’”

  A. asked, “Why is it stupid?”

  “I’m glad you asked. I’ve been noticing when I check on some of the more prolific students on Twitter that they have built some massive follower bases.”

  “Isn’t that good?” A. asked, looking confused.

  “I believe it is a mirage. I’ve checked the Twitter streams of many people who have the hashtag #TeamFollowback in their bios. Most of what they are tweeting is completely self-serving. They don’t, as a rule, retweet nor do they have genuine conversations. They do friend follow Friday and seem only to be interested in getting a really big follower number. What does that tell us about people who preach #TeamFollowBack?”

  Kurt said, “That they’re self-centered.”

  “Yes. Will these paragons of self-promotion become a fan of your blog?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe,” Kurt said.

  “No, they won’t. They are the devil. They are chasing multi-level marketing dreams. They don’t have real friends and likely only bathe when it is absolutely necessary. They don’t get Twitter. #TeamFollowBack folks don’t understand that the goal is to build a community by helping others and then, if one is lucky, they might have earned the respect needed for a retweet.”

  “That seems harsh.”

  “Harsh would have been to point out that these dregs of social media really were the reason their parents divorced and have likely caused global warming by exhaling C02. They should die.”

  Wen said, “You can’t tell some of your students they should die.”

  Arthur gave a sigh and said, “I could, but your point is valid. I shouldn’t. I’m not really thinking about our students, though. I focus my wrath on the quote-unquote social media gurus who have 50,000 fake followers.”

 

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