I'm really happy colleges offer psychology courses. Ever since my housemate Mark took Psych 101, I have been lucky to learn day-in and day-out how many afflictions trouble me. For instance, Mark once stopped a conversation to point out how my comment indicated I had childhood trauma. When I replied this was in no way true (we had only been discussing if we should inform the rental company about the gas leak), Mark hugged me for 10 minutes and kept repeating, "I'm here for you." This wouldn't have been so awkward had I not been naked.
In another instance, Mark approached me and said, "Chris, do you remember how you said that occasionally you aren't hungry? Well, we just learned there are these things called 'eating disorders'..." I then had to explain how not eating occasionally does not indicate anorexia. After I missed breakfast the next day, however, Mark staged a massive intervention, which was awkward not just because he invited my parents and entire extended family, but also because I felt I was perpetuating the situation by turning down his fried pork skins. But let's be fair; those taste like badly-flavored air.
At least Mark doesn't charge us for his errant advice. He constantly brings this up. "Most doctors would charge you $900 for this visit," he once said as he diagnosed my friend Matt with post-traumatic stress disorder because Matt's mom had, when he was five, left him at the mall for 20 minutes. "Take these pills," he went on, handing Matt a pack of orange tic tacs. "You'll feel better in the morning. Also, never go to a building with people again. And avoid sunlight at all costs." Mark has since learned the difference between a mental disorder and vampirism.
I exaggerate here, but I do find it funny how students in psychology classes frequently relate our actions to textbook disorders. I may look tired, but that doesn't mean I'm depressed and should take Prozac. It means I should stop spending the entire night finding creative ways to turn infomercials into drinking games.
Psychology students, though, are not the only people who like to discuss their newfound academic knowledge. Sociology majors are also infamous for this. Every sociology major I know loves to quote Michel Foucault. In case you haven't heard of him, Foucault was this great 20th century sociologist who wrote both books about power and the theme song for 'Gilligan's Island.' This is a little-known fact, but it's what launched his academic career.
For instance, one of my friends, a sociology major, once ranted about how the movie "Wedding Crashers" is just a blatant echo of Foucault's interpretation of Bentham's Panopticon. The problem with his argument was that it didn't make sense. Nobody really knows what Foucault was talking about. He's one of those great thinkers -- like Plato and the guy who wrote "Anaconda 2" -- who are so smart they can say whatever they want and be hailed as a genius for it. For example:
Plato: Life is like a cave, in the sense that, um, it is full of bats.
Albeit, who am I to speak of pretension? I'm an English major, so I feel obliged to correct people when they use words incorrectly. This pomposity often gets me in trouble:
Spanish person: Buenas dose? Mucho Vienna. El tento.
Me: Actually, sir, I believe it's pronounced 'pineapple.'
I have a bad habit of pretending I know more about the English language than anybody in the room. This is not actually the case, as I am prone to mispronounce any word longer than one syllable. This pretension means I run into difficulty when around another English major. In an act not unlike two men of comparable strength seeing who can lift the bigger continent, we are forced to have a word knowledge battle:
Her: What's the definition of caterwauling? Go.
Me: The cry of a cat. Crepuscular. Go.
Her: Twilight. Winskintology. Go.
Me: Ughgh ... [Picks up Australia].
Regardless of who wins, I am sure these mini wars perturb my friends, especially since I live with eight engineers, whose knowledge of obscure words is limited to 'keggerator.' Speaking of adequate nourishment, I'm going to grab some food. If you see Mark, please tell him this. For if I have to see another fried pork skin, I'm escaping to some Middle Eastern cave, even if this means settling in with the bat community and marrying Betsy, their princess.
Chris' column runs biweekly Mondays. He can be reached at shuptrine@cavalierdaily.com.
Read More
It’s okay not to be okay
By Mai Hukuoka | 4 days agoWhether talking to a friend, a loved one or a professional, it is so necessary, and human, to need more than you can provide for yourself.
Taking a break at Tangerines Kitchen
By Charley Thomas | 5 days agoWhat the restaurant somewhat lacks in ambiance, it compensates for in tasty dishes and prompt service.
Virginia Policy Lab — a hub for student-led policy action
By Katherine Haden | December 9, 2024Students propose their own projects and collaborate with other members to research their issues of interest, brainstorm solutions and write policy proposals.
