Monday, February 24, 2014

We're going to try that Google game again.

This time, with better instructions.

1.  I post a picture of Google autocompleting a search query. 

2.  You answer any of the search query questions with your own snarky, creative answer in the comments.

Here is me performing step 1.

Here is me pretending to be you performing step 2.

Yes, I want you... to show up to class and realize that if I stop in the middle of lecture to stare at you for ten seconds, then it means that I've just asked you a question.  Pay attention, dumbass!
Nicely done, if I do say so myself.  Now, the rest of you get down there and have at it.


  1. "Does my professor like me?" (or hate me or know I like him.....)

    NO! None of us do. Wanna know why? Because "liking" is irrelevant in an educational context. Because I DO NOT want to be friends with you. In fact, there is mounting evidence that us disliking one another might actually work to YOUR advantage!

    So stop worrying so much about being "liked" and just do the work assigned to the best of your ability. Because, in the end, if I am doing my job properly, you will never, ever know for sure WHO I LIKE (or hate) in the class because every single student will be treated the SAME.

  2. "Does my professor know I like him?"

    Ideally, not.

  3. I don't hate you, I don't want you (well, except in the sense of Ben's reply), I don't really care if you like me or not (in any sense), but/and I'm prepared to like you (in a mild, somewhat impersonal sort of way) if you have, and express, an interesting idea, or even an interesting question. Really, it's up to you, and it depends on the quality of your work (and your behavior). Shocking, I know.

  4. I "like" you in the sense that I wish you well in general and share with you some human fellow-feeling. It's nice, but entirely unnecessary, that you like me too. Some of you, however, I really don't like. You make demands on my time beyond what is necessary for you to learn the material ("can I do extra credit?" "can I turn this in late?"), you lack all awareness of audience or the existence of others outside of yourself ("Did we do anything important in class?"), and you seem to think that I am your servant or secretary rather than an expert in my field whom you have access to in order to learn something ("Do you have a stapler?"). Why should such noisome behavior be "liked"?

  5. Oh, and any "wanting" of you that might for the briefest moment occur when I first see you disappears the minute you open your mouth or turn in a piece of writing. Twenty year-old people are attractive, granted. But it takes more than a pretty body for me to "want" someone, and any adult professional who "wants" a student, particularly an undergrad, whether romantically or as a "BFF," should probably seek therapy. Even if you were a genius of unprecedented brilliance, you just don't have the life experience for me to find you more than momentarily attractive, and a very brief moment at that. So, sorry. Those chili peppers are all for nothing.