Arts in ReviewCourse oddities befuddle students

Course oddities befuddle students

This article was published on January 24, 2018 and may be out of date. To maintain our historical record, The Cascade does not update or remove outdated articles.
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January tends to lull us into a false sense of security. It behooves the wise student to look ahead in their course syllabus to get an idea of what they are in for. Having done so, however, nothing could have prepared the students of these classes for the strangeness they uncovered.

As of this writing, Professor Wylie Jameson, who teaches Philosophy 222: Applied Postmodernism, has yet to show up for a single one of his classes. He has given no reason for his absence, nor has he cancelled classes, apparently expecting his students to make the journey to campus, and sit in a room for three hours with nothing to do.

Jameson has assigned copious amounts of course readings, and this is where the strangeness intensifies. None of the assigned readings appear to have anything to do with the course material, and some of the resources are downright inappropriate. One so-called article turned out to be hardcore pornography that infected students’ computers with malware, causing the computer to emit vulgar noises, even when turned off.

Professor Georgia Remmington, who teaches Anthropology 304: Applied Anthropology in the Field, believes in hands-on experience, and “total cultural immersion.” ANTH 304 gives students a chance to travel abroad, and experience different cultures. This year’s students are excited for the journey they are preparing to take, but one former student is warning people to get out while they can.

According to Chad, who was a student in last semester’s class, Remmington’s teaching strategy is to throw students in the deep end, and pull out the ladder. After bringing her students to the small African nation of Uluri, Professor Remmington ditched her students, and grabbed the first flight home, leaving her students to their own devices with no money, no supplies, and no instructions on how to proceed.

Less than half of last year’s students have made it back to Canada, and most of the remainder have dropped out of contact. Those who failed to report in by semester’s end were given a failing grade, although one student got special credit for briefly becoming Uluri’s president.

The fine arts department is a place where risqué content is to be expected sometimes, but Professor Goodfellow raised eyebrows when it was discovered that every single one of her VA 101: Figure Drawing classes would feature a live nude model. This would be controversial enough as it is, but for the even more peculiar fact that there will be only one model used for the entire course, and that model happens to be Goodfellow’s husband.

However, this pales in comparison to what is happening in VA 166: Mixed Media Arts, taught by Professor Eliphas Crowley. The list of art supplies students are expected to acquire contains various tools and ingredients that are obscure, expensive, and/or hard to come by, including rectoscopes, and Marianas cuttlefish ink. Many of these tools, and the projects they will be used for, are components in dark arcane rituals, according to Hypatia Nightcaller, a student of the class who claims to be knowledgeable about such things. Manipulating students into performing black magic without their knowledge or consent is bad enough, but making them pay for expensive sorcerous reagents out of their own pockets is an atrocious abuse of student resources.

The sciences aren’t any better. The much-anticipated Robotics 200: Intro to Assembly course has some hidden depths that many find disturbing. The fact that the teacher of the course, Professor Cecil Merrywhether, insists on being called Doktor Disaster by everyone should be a red flag.

Attentive students of Robotics 200 noticed that what appears at first glance to be a series of simple assembly projects, when taken together will construct a “Giant Killer Death Robot of Doom,” according to the syllabus. The syllabus also contains highly detailed plans to use the robot to obliterate the city of Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. When asked for comment, Doktor Disaster only replied, “They will pay, they will all pay.” In addition to the ethical issues, students and faculty have commented that a project of this magnitude is beyond the realistic scope of a four-month, 200-level course.

The wise student should always read their entire syllabus and class schedule. Those who don’t may well end up caught off guard by surprises like these.

Image: Wikimedia Commons

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