Acephalous

Busted!

[The following post was written for mature audiences.  Reader discretion is advised.]

The Donalde caught me cursing, which as we all know I never do.  Well, actually, the Donalde caught my student cursing, which as we all know they never do either.  Then he proved I've cursed before by linking to an unformatted comment in a post that deemed me "insufferable" for writing those visual rhetoric posts you love—or at least the ones that receive the most random positive feedback.  Because he's the Donalde, he fails to realize that I was being purposely insufferable because I'd been called "insufferable," and that I sarcastically answered the question "What the fucking fuck?" with "Q.F.E.F.D."  But alas!  It is not in the Donalde to recognize such things.

However, it is in the Donalde to end a post in which he castigates me for cursing by calling me an "asshat."  He does as well with irony as he does sarcasm and Google: he suggests that I use the word "cocksucker" in private, when I not only use it quite publicly, I think it can be fucking poetry. 

I have just received a very "disturbing" email from a very "prominent" conservative blogger...

...who informs me that my "true" identity is Batman John Casper.  I kid you not: I'm now accused of being the very same John Casper who, a few years ago, tried to destroy my academic career.  I'm not currently privy to the "evidence" against "me," but I look forward to confronting it with great gusto, if only to have the opportunity to reprint this letter from an African-American scholar, because I enjoy white-hot displays of scorn as much as the next historian.

I've got a tremendously busy week ahead of me, so please feel free to update me about future "developments" in comments, via email, or through Facebook. Because this should be entertaining.  

UPDATE: As far as anyone can tell, something like this or this happened. What either or those things may be, your guess is as good as mine.

Teacher to the World, Teacher to None

SEK walks past the library on Ring Road and hears  a student hawking banana splits.

RANDOM STUDENT: BANANA SPLITS! WE HAVE THEM! BANANA SPLITS!

SEK momentarily thinks about how refreshing a banana split might—

RANDOM STUDENT: B-A-N-N-A-S-S! BANANA SPLITS!

SEK does an admittedly grumpy double-take.

RANDOM STUDENT: B-A-N-N-A-S-S SPLITS! BANANAS! YOU KNOW YOU LOVE THEM!  WE HAVE THEM!

SEK does his damnedest not to do what you know he's going to do, but in a moment of predictable weakness, turns around and confronts the hawker anyway.

SEK: You have what now?

RANDOM STUDENT: BANANA SPLITS! ONLY FOUR DOLLARS! B-A-N-N-A-S-S SPLITS!

SEK: (politely) Are you sure that's what you have?

RANDOM STUDENT: BANANA SPLITS, DUDE.  I'VE BEEN SELLING THEM FOR HOURS.

SEK: Successfully?

RANDOM STUDENT: YES SUCCESSFULLY.  BANANA SPLITS! B-A-N-N-A-S-S SPLITS ONLY FOUR DOLLARS!

SEK considers whether he wants to go full-on Larry David, decides against it, and begins walking away.

RANDOM STUDENT: ALL THAT TALK DUDE AND YOU AIN'T EVEN GONNA BUY ONE SPLIT? IT'S FOR A CAUSE.

SEK chomps down on his tongue, lowers his head and continues walking away because him being exhausted and it being Spring Quarter is no excuse for what would otherwise inevitably follow.

Conversations with former students in food courts

FORMER STUDENT: Hey, Scott!

SEK: Howdy, FS.

FS: I miss your class, man.  This [next one in the writing sequence] sucks ass.  I got a fucking [non-passing grade] on the first paper.

SEK: Did you [do everything SEK taught him to do, e.g. revise, revise, revise]?

FS: This prof doesn't make us revise.

SEK: But what led to you earning an "A" in my class?

FS: All the revising.

SEK: So what do you need to earn an "A" in this next class?

FS: I told you, though, this prof doesn't make us revise.

SEK: But how did you earn an "A" in my class?

FS: Revising.

SEK: So how can you earn an in this next one?

FS: I don't know, Scott, that's what I'm asking you.

SEK: But—

FS: You gotta help a brother out.

SEK: One more time: How did you earn an "A" in my course?

FS: I already told you, this prof isn't telling us to revise.

SEK: (shrugs)

FS: (shrugs back)

SEK: (emphatically shrugs while repeatedly overturning invisible cups on an invisible table)

FS: (stares for a minute, turns, walks away) Right, dude, I see what you're saying.  Cups it is, man, cups it is!

SEK: "Cups"?  Come back! (FS moves briskly through the food court)  WHAT IS "CUPS"? 

SEK realizes that standing alone in the middle of a food court yelling "WHAT IS 'CUPS'"? leaves an odd impression on bystanders and walks away muttering something, most likely "What is 'cups'?" under his breath.

I AM PAYING THEM TO DRINK THEIR MILKSHAKE.

Once upon a time, as most of you know, SEK had cancer.  His cancer requires he take thyroid replacement hormones for the rest of his life, but this January his Primary Care Physician informed him that he could not, in good conscience, continue to prescribe said hormones unless SEK saw an endocrinologist at least once a year, so he referred SEK to one who works at the UCI Medical Center.  Because the United States has the best health care system in the world, three months later he arrives at the UCI Medical Center for his appointment.

SEK: I am here for the appointment I have been waiting three months to have the pleasure of attending.

NURSE: Do you have a referral?

SEK: My doctor referred me, otherwise I would not have the appointment which I waited three months to have the pleasure of attending.

NURSE: Let me call your Primary Care Physician.  (dials phone, provides my name and information, listens)  They have no record of a referral.

SEK: Then why am I here?

NURSE: (shrugs)

SEK: Why did I receive an email reminding me to be here today at this time?

NURSE: (shrugs)  We can always restart the process—

SEK: And I can wait another three months to be told there's no record of my referral?

NURSE: Or you can see the doctor (which was becoming a pressing necessity, as SEK was experiencing some of the same symptoms that led to the diagnosis of cancer in the first place—most notably, an uncontrollable urge to nap) and pay out of pocket, straighten things out with your insurance company and be reimbursed.  

SEK:  Fine, fine, this is why the Good Lord invented credit cards.

SEK sees the endocrinologist, who is really quite extraordinary, has a few tests runs and leaves the office to get three gallons of blood work drawn at the lab.

SEK: I have this long sheet of paper covered in X marks and this pad of stickers.  Please steal my blood.

LAB ATTENDANT: Gladly!

The LAB ATTENDANT rolls up SEK's sleeves and withdraws three gallons of blood from SEK's arms.  As the LAB ATTENDANT's affixing the stickers to all the tubes, he says

LAB ATTENDANT: Wait a minute—these stickers have your Primary Care Physician's name on them in addition to the endocrinologists'.  

SEK: And this is a problem?

LAB ATTENDANT: You needed to get this blood drawn at your Primary Care Physician's lab, otherwise you'll have to pay for these tests out-of-pocket.

SEK: (sighs) How much out of pocket?

LAB ATTENDANT: $1,800.

SEK: Fine.  I'll just take these tubes and stickers and drive them to the other lab.

LAB ATTENDANT: You can't do that.  You need a special license to transport blood.

SEK: My blood?  I believe it's called a "Driver's License," and I used it—

LAB ATTENDANT: It's the law.

SEK: (feeling the effects of losing all that blood) So what you're telling me is that I need a special license to transport my blood—

LAB ATTENDANT: As soon as it's outside of your bod—

SEK: THEN BY GOD MAN JUST PUT IT BACK IN.

LAB ATTENDANT: What?

SEK: PUT IT BACK IT IN.  Did I need a special license to drive it here?

LAB ATTENDANT: No.

SEK: But it'll cost me $1,800 to transport it to the other lab in those little tubes?

LAB ATTENDANT: Yes.

SEK: THEN PUT IT BACK IN ALREADY.

The LAB ATTENDANT is surprisingly unpersuaded by the logic behind SEK's argument.  SEK leaves the lab minus the $1,800 pound of flesh they stole from him and THE END FOR NOW.