Over the past week, I've learned two valuable lessons: ISIS is for chumps, not champs, and "Final Registration" is not the Man trying to keep me down.
However, I combined the writing skills of my English major and the lying negotiation skills of my politics major to create the ultimate schedule.
My first plan of attack was to blitz e-mail all the professors in both departments.
Professor Shakespeare,
I am a third-year English major with no English classes. The injustice of this atrocity is a juxtaposition with the ingratiated values of a superior University such as this University of Virginia. Please let me know if it is possible to course action.
Professor Cheney,
I can bring a unique experience to your class of veteran Congressional interns. During the summer, when special officers were monitoring the D.C. Metro, I was searched and detained. Perhaps it was because of my foreign and exotic good looks, or the candy I tried to feed the bomb-sniffing dogs. Whatever the reason, I suffered at the hands of those bleeding liberals in the White House!
Professor Jefferson,
Here is a summary of our first paper assignment, which I have written in hopes of being allowed to course action into your class. I have titled it "Dick, Bush, Colin: A Medical Exam Gone Wrong."
Professor Thurmond,
Condoleeza Rice is my role model. Not only is she always fashionably dressed, but her last name is a staple of my daily diet.
Professor Yeats,
Please let me join your poem class,
I like green but not ugly grass.
I write for the school paper,
You'll be impressed later,
When I join the group
And bring you some soup.
Professor Brown,
I recently read the bestseller that you wrote on Leonardo DaVinci. I have a number of questions I'm hoping you can answer. What is the plot of the book? And I tried to look up a "Langdon" at Harvard University and found no such professor. Please explain this discrepancy. Lying is frowned upon by the University Honor Policy.
Of course my heartfelt e-mails are the sole reason I'm currently enrolled in ENWR 110.
When e-mails failed, I moved to Plan B and attended the first day of every class with an open spot.
BIOL 899: I thought the class would be similar to "CSI." Unfortunately, the only thing the two have in common is that biology explains animals, and sometimes there is an animal on the show.
ARCH 101: Real architects don't use Legos.
MAE 355: No, the robots built in class are not used in RoboWar 2005. They're used to "help" people in "space," whatever that means.
PHYE 114: Beginning Rugby cannot be taken twice for credit. Despite my efforts to pass as "Winnipeg Chow," the fact that the teacher is a teammate has foiled me once again!
This too, met with ill results. I had one option left: I merely had to convince others to drop classes, so I could occupy their spots. For first-year Echols students, it was easy. I stood outside new Cabell and redirected them to the music library. I told them WIL stands for Wilnikstorn, located near the University hospital. For upperclassmen, I merely mentioned the notion that the new, stricter ABC man was in "our" class and he had a photographic memory. It wasn't a complete lie. When I sat down in class and looked at the suckers who were trying to get in through more conventional methods, I was in the ABC spot: Already Been Claimed.
Through much wrangling and bartering of goods, I was able to intimidate and seduce my way into many a wonderful course. For those students who have suffered a different fate, I can only offer one word of advice: A couple of Mr. Jackson's can change anyone's mind.
Winnie can be reached at winnie@cavalierdaily.com.