“I can’t believe I’m really here.”
Janet spun slowly in the middle of the campus square, taking in the stately presence of her university surroundings. Backpacks, cell phones, and iPods swirled around her as she gaped at the ivy-covered brick buildings. Janet could practically feel the intellectual energy being sent and received on the other side of those walls, and the nape of her neck tingled at the prospect of participating in the exchange.
Her daydream came to a crashing halt when Janet was knocked to the ground with a thud.
“Oh, excuse me! I’m so sorry.”
Shaking off her surprise, she took the strong hand offered to her. “Hi, I’m Paul,” said the All-American square-jawed smile at the other end of the arm. Janet blushed and managed to fumble a response she hoped had included her name.
Paul was a sophmore in Kinesiology and a walk-on tight end for the football team. Janet mentioned her interest in biology and physiology. “I love to learn about the magic of God’s creations,” she beamed.
Paul winked in response and broadened his smile. “I think you’re gonna like it here, Jan.” Jan. How adult! She was feeling more grown up already. “Hey,” he continued, “we’ve got this little social club meeting tomorrow night, a mixer to introduce freshman to life on campus. I’d love to see you there.” Paul handed Janet a simple flyer for an event titled “College 101″ and strolled off with a half-salute wave back at Janet. Jan. She was Jan now.
——— CH. 2
Jan made her way down the narrow corridor towards room 308, her place of residence for the next year. As she got closer, a repulsive, vaguely familiar smell invaded her nostrils. She reached the open door of room 308 and was deeply disappointed to discover that the stink was emanating from her new home. Splayed out on one of the beds was a girl who seemed to have lept out of a Woodstock documentary — she was greasy and unkempt with hair in all the wrong places for a female.
The girl was deeply immersed in a book entitled “The Best of Female Erotica,” and Jan felt a cold shiver as she stared at the sinful lips dominating its cover. Jan set down her bag and caught the attention of her roommate, who introduced herself in a growly voice as Martha. She asked Jan if she wanted a smoke.
“I don’t think we should do that in here, do you?” Jan warned. Martha rolled her eyes and took out some kind of homemade cigarette. As she lit it, a new kind of odor invaded Jan’s nostrils. As the old one became overpowered, Jan realized where she’d smelled it before: from the homeless people begging on street corners near the highways of her home town. She got queasy at the thought, and the new stench wasn’t helping.
“It’ll be fine,” Martha assured her. “Anyway, this is the kindest of the kind. You want some?” Jan shook her head. “Come on. Everybody in college does it. It’s like a rite of passage.” Jan felt uncertain. She squeezed the cross under her shirt for guidance.
“I don’t like putting unnatural chemicals in my body, thanks,” Jan said. Martha giggled, “It’s totally natural, silly. God’s own creation put right here on this Earth for our enjoyment. C’mon. One puff.” Martha leaned over and extended the tip of the cigarette to Jan. Jan looked at it and hesitated. Well, I squeezed my cross, Jan thought, and right then she mentioned God. Plus, she said it was kind. Maybe this is a good idea.
Jan stuck her head forward, put her lips against the sticky end of the cigarette, and inhaled. She shot backwards with a sharp cough, and suddenly she realized she had just smoked marijuana. She shook her head vigorously, trying to clear the fog rolling in, but darkness overcame her. Jan passed out at the foot of Martha’s bed.
——— CH. 3
Vague dreams of hands running all over her body left Jan tossing and turning, and when she awoke, the sun had already set. She was alone in her room. In her bed. Wearing no clothes. Jan pulled the covers tight to her body in fear. What happened to me after I smoked that pot cigarette? Jan started to tremble, but soon another wave of the potent drug overcame her and sent her back into a fitful sleep.
——— CH. 4
The next day, Jan awoke feeling surprisingly refreshed. Yesterday already seemed like a distant dream. As she showered, Jan resolved to be firmer in her convictions. Just because she was alone at college, that was no reason for her to abandon her morals.
Her first class was Introduction to Religious History. Janet sat down in the front row, eager to deepen her faith and arm herself with more facts about Jesus.
Shortly after the top of the hour, a craggy professor with permanent scowl etched between his ears strode into the room. Without a word, he extracted a Bible from his coat pocket and held it up. Janet lit up at the sight of the holy book — that is, until the professor threw it on the floor and desecrated it.
The next hour was a horror-show of obscenities directed at the Bible. Hateful terms like “myth” and “ruse” piled on top of lies like “exploited by men” and “no different than the Koran or the I Ching” bombarded Jan’s ears until she couldn’t take it anymore. She scooped up her belongings and bolted out of the class in tears.
——— CH. 5
A salad in the cafeteria calmed Jan considerably. She reflected on how Mom and Dad had warned her that there would be some dangerous propaganda presented to her, and that maybe college wasn’t right for their baby girl. She’d talked up her ability to overcome these obstacles to her parents, and now it was time for her to walk the walk. Just because some stupid old man had lost his way, that was no reason for her to stop listening to her own soul. She even managed a smile at the thought of his impending damnation. Surely that thought would help her get through the semester.
Next up was a Poli Sci class, and Jan felt relief at the prospect of discussing concrete ideas, things we all believed in — checks and balances, 3 branches of government, and the power of freedom that America brings to the world.
Her hopes died a quick death. “Class,” sneered the long-beaked professor with ice-water eyes, “I want you to write an essay on why George Bush is a war criminal, and I want you to turn it in by the end of the period.” He chuckled to himself in such a way that Jan nearly threw her own Bible at him. I’ll show you, thought Jan. And she proceeded to write an essay on why Saddam Hussein was a war criminal, proving once and for all that we were right to force democracy on Iraq.
Unfortunately, the cartoonish onslaught of terminally-degreed evil continued from her Biology instructor, who gleefully described her burgeoning partnership with terrorists and taste for genocide.
——— CH. 6
After running the gauntlet of her schedule, Jan was exhausted. Was this trauma what passed for higher learning? How could this much conspiratorial hate and open war on our culture thrive so strongly within our own borders? “And why are all these other kids going along with it?” she said aloud, smacking her delicate fist on the bench on which sat. She eyeballed a gaggle of idiot girls giggling past her. “Are you all that stupid?!” She shouted. They gave her the crook eye and flitted past.
Jan stormed back to her room. Just as she grabbed her lamp to throw it in disgust, she noticed the “College 101″ flyer lying next to it. Hope, after all. Surely Paul and his friends would show her how to cope with all this extremism. Then she felt a soft hand on her shoulder.
Jan whipped around and came face-to-open-mouth with Martha, who was moving in for a deep kiss. “Come on, girlie! It’s time for phase 2 of your college education — lesbian loving!”
“Ewww!” Jan shoved Martha back and pulled out her cross. Martha recoiled in loathing and Jan scurried out of the room.
——— CH. 7
As Jan bolted through her dorm’s front doors, she ran straight into a tree trunk, also known as Paul’s strapping chest. “Hey there, Jan!” Paul said with his dimpled grin. “Now it’s your turn to run into me.”
Jan brushed the hair out of her face and managed a smile. “Are you on your way to the meeting?” Paul asked.
“Yeah. Yes. Yes, I am, thank you.”
Paul offered his arm and Jan took it, relieved to be in the company of sanity and chivalry once more.
——— CH. 8
“Thank you all for coming,” Paul began. “I know the first few days of college can seem overwhelming. Most of you have probably already had a few experiences you’d rather forget, am I right?” The hoarde of freshman seated in front of him laughed their agreement. “I know you guys are looking for two things, a way to relax and a way to cope, am I right?” The crowd, with Jen front and center, called back affirmatively. “Then let’s get to it, shall we?”
With a hoot and holler, everyone around Jen stood up and started stripping off their clothes.
“What are you doing?!” Jan shrieked. But it was too late; she was already surrounded by dozens of naked bodies slithering against one another. Not even her interest in physiology could make this abomination tolerable.
Jan curled up into a ball and rolled away from the blossoming orgy, and when she sensed open air, she popped up. Unfortunately, it was right in front of now-nude Paul sliding his penis into the exit door of another co-ed. “Oh, Jan, isn’t this everything you dreamed of when you came to college?”
“You– it– that– that’s her behind!” Jan yelled.
“I know! It’s anonymous anal sex night tonight, which happens to be my personal favorite. Here, before I forget, take this.” While violating the rear entry of his squealing prey, Paul managed to pop a pill in Jan’s agape mouth. Out of reflex, Jan swallowed.
“Oh god! What have you done to me?”
“That was the morning after pill, Jan. Sure, we’re in medias res, but we play it extra safe here in our satanic sex orgy cult!”
“You mean…” Jan’s eyes widened. “You mean I’m not gonna get pregnant if I have sex tonight?”
“Well, technically we’re supposed to keep it in the butt anyway, but you can never be too careful. So, yeah, party on!”
Suddenly, Jan understood. She was free now, free to give herself to the dark side without consequence. Yes, she was her own woman now, and that woman was ready for some anal.
Jan dove into the pile of people, hungry to pursue her college education.
——— CH. 9
One after the other, black suits and dresses filed by the closed casket. Resting atop it was Jan’s high school graduation picture.
Later, her mother took the podium in front of the somber attendees.
“When they pulled my little girl’s body from the wreckage of the building, I knew. I knew she wasn’t one of the victims. I knew she was… she was…” Jan’s mother dabbed at her nose. “I knew she was the suicide bomber.
For months, she’d acted nothing like the beautiful angel I raised. She paraded her– her girlfriends in front of us, she Fed-Exed us her childhood Bible soaked in urine, and she said… she believed in global warming. Our daughter was already dead. We knew it was only a matter of time until she took others with her.
For decades, the liberal media and entertainment industries have seduced our children with the idea of college. They’re led to believe it’s a necessary part of the path to maturity. But I ask you, all of you, once you learn that Jesus is in your heart, what else is there to know? Why send your children to hedonistic death camps for their souls to be corrupted by terroristic gay filth?
Don’t make the same mistake we did with our little Janet. Children are too precious for this world. We ought to shelter them from it as much as possible.”
In the audience, a young girl’s eyes began to twinkle in wonder.
——— CH. 10
Outside the funeral home, the girl walked to her car hand-in-hand with her mother. “Mom?” she asked. “College isn’t really that bad, is it?”
The mother stopped dead in her tracks. She dropped her girl’s hand. And she screamed.
If I had money, I would give you some right now.
If only college was really like that. (And good job highlighting the farcical “marijuana is much stronger today” canard.)
Chapter 10′s totally a Jungle Fever reference, isn’t it?
I miss college.
Man, I really should have gotten out more.
That was beautiful, man (weeping)
College. All I have are the memories and the books they wrote about my time there.
Tom Wolfe’s gonna sue you for plagiarism.
The link from this entry inspired the following conversation with my husband this morning:
Husband: “What the fuck is up with Virginia Woolf?”
Me: “Uh?”
Husband: “With all the crazy Jesus stuff.”
Me: “… Uh?”
Husband: “You know, the return to modesty and your virginity is a special snowflake.”
Me: “… … … Do you mean Naomi Wolf?”
Husband: “Oh, yeah, Naomi Wolf!”
It’s a step up though. When I met him he kept confusing Virgina Woolf with Elizabeth Taylor.
earlier today i was flipping radio stations and stopped on some christian channel to listen to this woman ranting about the horrors of college and encouring people to buy this book. and then this afternoon, i read this post. weird.
[...] The Christians who foster misinformation about ID and zygotes and Islam are no better than the ancient fanatics who attacked the Library of Alexandria. Now, though, they lash out at colleges and academics. They work tirelessly to get ID in school and Jesus in office. They fight science, destroy choice, and wage war on intellectual curiosity. If they had their way, the fundamentalists would plunge us right back into the darkness. [...]
I never knew Jack Chick had a blog. Outstanding.
hunh. i thought my college was special, but i guess this stuff happens everywhere. it’s kind of fun, if you get past the whole “dying at an early age in service of the Dark Lord” thing.