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July
13, 2007
Spiderman
Goes to College
See Spot
Run. See Fred Run. See Fred Run Like Hell. Go,
Fred, Go
by Fred Reed
I love it. Comic books. We're now using comic
books to prepare kids for
.
Guess: First grade, you're thinking, right? Not
a bad idea, really. Give kindergarteners Little
Lulu comics, maybe Casper the Friendly Ghost, and
they'll be reading by first grade. Good idea. In
fact, any number of kids invented this approach on
their own. They learned to read, and there wasn't a
damned thing the schools could do about it.
But no, that's not it. We're using comic books
to prepare high-school graduates for
universities! So help me. Honest.
You've heard of Kaplan, which sells prep courses
to subvert the SATs. You know, vocabulary lists,
drills, that kind of thing. If you are too witless
to have acquired a vocabulary by graduation from
high school, you memorize a bunch of those word
thingies with all those, like, letters in them, and
forget them the day after the test, but you're
in.
Which is what the universities want.
Universities are about tuition. The money of the
barely sentient spends as well as any other, and
there are more of them. Like all businesses, the
schools, if such they are, want to expand their
customer base. They want to spread the wondrous
radiance of cultivation over the autistic, the
anencephalic, and perhaps the dead, who might be
taught by channeling. Pets, arthropods,
outcroppings of rock. Furniture. Rosy O'Donnell.
George Bush. The potential clientele is large.
Empty space, perhaps.
As it turns out, who would have thought
it, some kids don't have vocabularies, and largely
don't have brains, and either can't read real books
or would rather be poisoned, and consequently are
totally incapable of study in a university. Thus
the pressing need to get them there. It doesn't
make economic sense that a university should lose
twenty K a year because some wretched prole can't
read Dick and Jane.
Unfortunately for higher education, there is the
tiresome pretense that we have standards. We don't,
of course, but we have to act like it. So Kaplan,
sneaky rascal that he is or they are, peddles comic
books -- only we now call them "graphic novels" so
you can't tell they're comic books -- to fertilize
the vocabularies of the borderline retarded.
"Gosh, Green Lantern! Do you think the Dark
Cloud travels by metempsychosis? Some mysterious
evil form of palengenesis? Or by omnibus?"
OK, OK, I made that up.
From Amazon: "Kaplan's SAT / ACT Score-Raising
Manga series features an assortment of today's most
popular graphic novels (narratives related through
a combination of text and art), with the most
important and frequently seen words that show up on
the SAT and ACT exams highlighted throughout the
text of the story. Definitions are on the margins
surrounding the graphics, and words are in talk
bubbles and sidebars describing the action."
Hey, look, there are possibilities here. I'm
thinking Thomas Aquinas with talk-bubbles. "There!
That will settle the Manicheans!" Or, no
doubt, Womanicheans. His or Hericheans.
Theiricheans.
"Narratives related through a combination of
text and art"? If I wrote anything so
condescendingly fatuous I would slit my wrists.
Comic books, gang, they are comic books. This,
it is hoped, will get the alobitic into the
remedial programs of a profitable pseudo-university
from which they will graduate without knowing what
planet we live on. Mawd Alghighty. Wouldn't it make
more sense simply to issue a diploma at birth and
charge the parents a hundred thousand inflating
green ones?
Here's my plan. We reform the schools on the
testing-out principle. We do this by offering a
series of examinations. Supposedly, despite a lack
of evidence, the schools exist to impart certain
things, such as an ability to read. That they want
to do this can be questioned, given that they often
don't, and many of the teachers barely can. Never
mind. If a kid can demonstrate that he has
achieved, by whatever means, whatever it is thought
necessary that he achieve, you give him a
diploma.
Put it this way. If a kid passes the test for a
GED in the fourth grade, he's gone. Leave the poor
devil alone. He can spend the next eight years
educating himself, drinking beer, or sleeping.
The bright inevitably learn on their own anyway.
The schools just get in the way. My step-daughter
Natalia is your standard Smart Kid, Mark I: Ivy
brains, not a prodigy, Nobel unlikely. She comes
home from school and pastes bits of colored paper
into projects, like a New Guinean playing with
glass beads. The schools here actually aren't bad,
being long on substance and short on gummy
propaganda, but they aren't aimed at the highly
intelligent.
Then, like all such kids, Nata proceeds to read
voraciously, omnivorously and without
discrimination, without aim or plan or reason. It's
a book. Books are to read. She has gotten that far.
What is it about? That's why you read them, to find
out. Aristophanes, Mario Puzo, junk, literature, it
all goes into the maw. This is normal for Smart
Kids. She would come out much better with books and
without school than the other way around. No dimwit
comic books, though.
"Holy coprolite, Batman! Godzilla, that
repellent blackguard of a saurischian theropod is
envenoming Tokyo with his mephitic exhalations!
Let's give him a taste of our Batarangs!"
The same principle of testing out would work for
the universities. Why not devise a comprehensive
test of collegiate material? Why pass a poor
defenseless soul in puzzled late adolescence
through four years of infernal darkness in some
thumbsucking adult daycare center? A rape
conviction leads to less time in durance vile. More
dignified, too.
However, note that the Graduate Record exams are
not a reliable instrument. We need something
better. This, from the site of the Educational
Testing Service, which administers the GREs: "The
achievement gap refers to the different levels of
academic performance of students from different
racial, ethnic and economic backgrounds. ETS is
committed to narrowing the gap through innovative
research, products and services."
Since ETS has no contact with students, it can
narrow the gap only through jiggering the test,
which it does. But if we had an honest testing
service, it would eliminate the need for
universities in many fields.
But wait. Here is the heart of my splendid plan.
The smart, who should go to a university, if we
still had any, can test out and do something
useful, or usTtheeless, with their lives. It's
their call. The rest -- coelenterates and below,
say -- will be sucked up by a process of
Kaplanation, like Mississippians being Raptured out
of the Delta, snakes in hand, and put in
universities. A robotic vacuum-cleaner will suck
wallets out of pockets as they arrive on campus.
Everyone will be happy. No?
Wild thought: I don't understand the idea of a
vacuum clearner. Aren't vacuums clean by
definition? Still, a federal program to educate
vacuums would be a good thing. Instead of merely
letting them run the universities.
Reed
Archive
Copyright 2007 by Fred Reed and reproduced here by
permission of the author.
About
the Author (by the author):
Fred Reed is a Marine combat veteran, police
reporter, amateur biochemist, former long-haul
hitchhiker, and part-time sociopath living in
Mexico. Fred, a keyboard mercenary with a
disorganized past, has worked on staff for Army
Times, The Washingtonian, Soldier of Fortune,
Federal Computer Week, and The Washington
Times. He has been published in Playboy,
Soldier of Fortune, The Wall Street Journal, The
Washington Post, Harper's, National Review, Signal,
Air&Space, and suchlike. He has worked as a
police writer, technology editor, military
specialist, and authority on mercenary soldiers. He
is by all accounts as looney as a tune.
Visit the "Fred
on Everything" website to read his previous
columns and sign up for his regular e-mail
feature.
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The essays in A Brass Pole in
Bangkok, are sometimes wildly funny,
sometimes deadly serious, always merciless
in their unmasking of the pretenses and
charlatans of society. Fred, a former
Marine, subscribes to no ideology ("an
ideology is just a systematic way of
misunderstanding the world") but
exuberantly wreaks havoc on practically
everything, and delights in everything
else: the psychotherapy swindle, squalling
feminists, race racketeers, damn fool
wars, red-light districts in Asia, and
tequila fests in Mexico, where he
lives.
A
Brass Pole in Bangkok: A Thing I Aspire To
Be, by Fred Reed
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Buy Fred's new reprehensible book,
Nekkid In Austin! Another
collection of Fred's collected outrages,
irresponsible ravings, and curmudgeonry
from "Fred On Everything" and some
innocent magazines that, he says,
foolishly published him. Wildly funny,
sometimes wacky, always provocative essays
on the collapse of America.
Nekkid
in Austin: Drop Your Inner Child Down a
Well, by Fred Reed
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