How to Impress Your Professor
(and Alienate Your Fellow Students)
- Always refer to Mark Twain as Samuel Clemens, occasionally adding “pseudonyms are for cowards” and only used by those with weak constitutions.
- Memorize 5 to 10 passages in Latin. Recite at random moments during heated classroom discussions. Stare wistfully out the window during all such recitations. If you can make yourself cry, even better.
- When asked a question on any aspect of Virginia Woolf’s canon, chuckle condescendingly, mutter something about Robespierre, and continue reading quietly from any book by John Barth for the remainder of the period. Meanwhile, as class goes on, ignore the physical reality of everyone else in the room.
- Choose any well-known, highly respected piece of literature …learn to hate it.
- When asked your thoughts on any book, reply only with the following statement: “Reading is an intimate experience, and sharing my thoughts on [insert name of novel here] would be akin to allowing you to sleep with my wife/husband/retarded child.”
- Feign excitement for all things Dickens …and mention something about his fur coat.
- Never respond to a question upon being called on for the first time. Rather, sit silently until prodded, then claim you are waiting (like Estragon) for a suitable reply to arrive (like Godot).
- Always arrive to class carrying a briefcase, cane, and wearing a monocle. To check the time, consult only a pocket watch, commenting that the school’s clocks are a few “wiffens” off
- When studying Existentialism, explain to your professor that you will respectfully refrain from all further topical discussions until he, using only arguments framed by the philosophy, can defend the point of such inquiries.
- Always ... (always!) ... refer to your friends as Droogs.