Minding It

DISCLAIMER: This post is either slightly or extremely vulgar, depending upon the width of the relativity field which emanates from the gyroscope that is your mind. If you are put off by that sort of thing, then might I perhaps suggest something a bit more pleasant: cat videos.

It completely boggles me, bewilders me, befoggs me, to hear incredibly intelligent individuals who get stupidly/absurdly good grades at University claim that they don’t mind school. This, I have come to understand, is complete bullshit.

Of course they mind it. They mind it about 2.0 something’s more than someone who receives grades that are less than savory. They mind it like one would mind the gap, or mind the pointy spears at the bottom of the gap, or mind the boiling hot oil that is being poored upon them from above as they make their way across said gap in order to penetrate an impenetrable object or pregnate the impregnable or even on the rarest of occasions: possib the impossible.

But how much does one, anyone, mind school?

Human beings are instruments which require complex and simple systems of measurement to go about the rest of their lives measuring things.

One often finds themself when alone measuring random and seemingly unconnected things, like the size of their financial accounts and investments, the amount of Cheerios in a bowl, the amount of cookies in a jar – with the lid on and with the lid closed – or the color of Shrödinger’s Cat’s fur, or indeed whether or not it had fur at all. Did the car even have a name? What would have happened if you had put a piece of buttered toast right-side-up underneath the box? Would you have created the very first uncertain antigravity generator? This, as would be known to the vast multitudes that study the art of the Internet meme if indeed they have thought of it yet, to rival the simple antigravity generator which is achieved by putting a cat [which always lands feet-first] atop a piece of toast [which always lands buttered-side-down].

One can also quite often find himself measuring the size of his penis, and wondering how big that asshole Keegan’s penis actually is, or if his girlfriend is just lying to him when she tells him that size doesn’t matter and that she’s not actually cheating on him.

Perhaps more often than that, one can find herself measuring the size of her breasts, wondering why one hangs just slightly lower than the other one, or whether they are indeed at the age of 20 going to grow any larger. Or one might find herself measuring the size of other girls’ breasts – as they are rather more visible than male genetalia, and therefore far more stress-inducing – and comparing herself to them, wondering how Stella’s got so fucking big as if overnight. Stella says they’re real, but you never know about that girl.

So, you see, one can find themself at the mercy and whim of whatever measurements that humanity has deemed necessary to continue in its ridiculous attempt to classify the world.

In the case of whether or not one minds anything at all, or rather minds nothing at all, the measurement is difficult to come by. One can say, for example, that the degree to which one minds something is in the scores and marks that they receive throughout their natural life. If one receives a gold medal at a horse race, does this signify that the contestant minded the affair? Or does it signify that the horse minded it? This is entirely unknown, because the word of a horse jockey is about as reliable as the broken arm of an armchair in a sex dungeon.

In the case of whether one minds school, one could say that the GPA, or Grade-Point-Average, is a significant and time-honored measurement that accurately predicts how amazing someone will be in the marketplace beyond the confines of the University.

This is also, in my humble opinion, complete bullshit. But it is a measurement of something. I don’t exactly know what- and I’m not sure that anyone, anywhere, knows exactly what it is that the GPA is measuring. I mean… really measuring.

We can go along in our lives pretending that GPA actually matters at all. If this is what sort of person that you’d like to be, then you can go party with those assholes standing around the water cooler at the Bush Center laughing and secretly lying to themselves and the world about how they didn’t mind school.

However, if you prescribe to the idea that the GPA is an extremely antiquated form of measurement which is entirely inaccurate as to the intelligence of the individual in question, then join me in becoming one of the few people who actually can admit that they do mind school.

I may not care for the concept of GPA, and I may get absolutely poor, shitty grades – but I do mind it.

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