universal knowledge

I’m often overcome by the sensation that literary styled academia could be infinitely less grand than it appears. That it is in actual fact common sense smeared with bullshit arrogance and elitism. I feel as though the ivory tower academics are working with a backward logic, attempting to aggrandise what the layman already knows. I’ve got this bizarre feeling that I already know a damn lot of what I already need to know. Perhaps this is teenaged world-beating, mortality-deluded conceit, but nonetheless, maybe the trick to earning this all-hallowed degree is just trudging through the bullshit on the way to some sort of self-realisation. Now that I’m almost half-way through my studentship I’m deeply concerned that I’ve turned the wrong corner. That I stood at the cross-roads of my life and someone gave me a bum steer. I could be traversing the Earth! I could be campaigning for obscure social causes! I could have opened a public ale house in the sticks and be serving ice-cold beverages to whatever soul-less alcoholic wants them. However! Luckily for myself I’ve bought into the propaganda that suggests even an illiterate, arse-scratching, behemoth missing-link can be a doctor, a lawyer, an astronaut. I’m not worrying that I’m crap at university, that I’d rather fuck or drink myself into oblivion, because (whenever I see fit) I can better myself through other means along with all of the other hopeless miscreants! God bless the system!

Seeing as university, for me and the majority of my peers, has thus far consisted of the time between the vomiting, I fear for the future. With a (hazy) knowledge of the recent past I’m forced to imagine our future doctors dressed as pandas, our veterinarians dressed as KISS and dear sweet engineers dressed as, well, themselves. Is everything really going to be alright? Of course it will: we’ll drink and fuck our way through our supposed pain (exams and the like) and manage to slowly evolve into well rounded human beings. This is a system that I can’t help but appreciate. A process of (for some, possibly most is) degeneration turns into socially acceptable beings. Three, four, ten years of studying (drinking, fucking, petty demeanours) and we come out of an institution with a degree strung around our neck and our mittens sewn to our jackets.