UK administration recently announced further cost-saving measures to help the university get through these tough economic times. I caught up with President Capilouto on his gold-plated yacht, the Skrilla II today to get the scoop.
As a white-gloved servant brought us martinis, Capilouto explained the newest strategy.
“Basically,” he said, “we realized that all these Teaching Assistantships we offer to graduate students are a money-suck. They are redundant. I mean, if you have one TA who knows how to teach, why would you pay for hundreds of TAs? It’s just like my nose: I have one that smells and breathes just fine. Why would I pay to have a second nose attached to my head?”
As he spoke, his servant was served a martini by a second servant. I asked Mr. Capilouto if this second servant was redundant in the same way as having a second nose would be redundant.
“Don’t be ridiculous. My servant can’t serve himself! Ergo, he needs his own servant. What’s redundant about that? Obviously, my single nose can smell itself—see?” He said as he engaged in a brief demonstration of hard sniffing.
Asked who served drinks to Servant #2, Capilouto sighed and responded, “His servant serves him, of course.”
“But we’re getting off track,” the President went on. “The point is, we have solved the problem of wasting money on all these TAs, and it’s quite simple, really. What we are going to do is have one TA teach all of the undergraduate core classes all at once.”
When pressed about the logistics of this (i.e., whether the One TA would have many different sections, etc.), Capilouto had a simple explanation.
“All of the students will gather in Rupp Arena in the morning, and the One TA will lead them all through a carefully crafted, accredited course on EconoMathePhilosoSocialLiterature. The One TA will bring them all and in the darkness bind them…to their homework, I mean.”
Asked whether the One TA can expect a pay increase for the increased workload of teaching and grading the work of about 3, 600 students beyond their original 25 students, Capiluoto snorted. “Of course not! We haven’t increased what we pay our TAs since the late 1980s. We’re not about to start now. Frankly, in these times, I think the One TA should be happy to have a job at all. That TA will teach 3,600 students, and will receive $12,000 before taxes, and will be quite happy with it. Or else.”
I then inquired as to what other strategies had been considered.
“Well, we thought about asking some of the tenured faculty to teach some classes, but we didn’t want to interrupt their research, which is really fascinating, and a great source of income to the university. Also, some have serious allergies to teaching.”
Pressed for details about what research he found most promising, Capilouto reported that a prominent Scatologist at UK was deeply engaged in a comparative analysis of turds from car salesmen and turds from UK’s own administration to determine who is more full of shit. To garner public interest in and support of this work, Capilouto announced that two turds would be on display in the lobby of Patterson Office Tower during the month of May: One from President Capilouto himself, and one donated from a car salesman at Lexington’s own well-known Don Jacobs dealership.
“It’s really exciting to watch the students handle my feces and the car salesman’s,” Capilouto said. “You can almost hear the gears turning in their brains as they try to figure out which of us is more full of crap. This is the kind of research that is going to send us straight to the Top Twenty!”
Asked how students have been responding to this news, Capilouto seemed to think there was widespread support for the measure.
“Think about it: you’re a freshman, you’ve got all these requirements to fill, and all these classes to choose from…it’s confusing! We’ve streamlined the process, so that students take one class each semester for the first two years. When they get through that, they are the world’s first experts in EconoMathePhilosoSocialLiterature, and they are ready to pursue their majors for the next two years.”
At this point, President Capilouto had to run to a meeting with “some anonymous donors who are very, very important in coal around here,” but he asked me to remind everyone to make sure they get a complimentary handful of his crap from the POT lobby before heading out of town for summer.
“One last thing,” he called out over his shoulder as he sped off on his gold-plated jet ski, “Make sure you mention how much money I’ve saved the school by donating my turds to curious students instead of wasting water on flushing them!”
By Derpy Dee