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Shu reminded me of this poem the other day. I love it! A Terrible Bullshit Is Born Ted Pauker, i.e. Robert Conquest (1917-2015), "A Grouchy Good Night to the Academic Year," The Penguin Book of Light Verse (Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1980; rpt. 1984), pp. 506-510: (with acknowledgements to W.M.P.) Good night to the year Academic, It finally crept to a close: Dry fact about physic and chemic, Wet drip about people and prose. Emotion was down to a snivel And reason was pulped to a pap, Sociologists droning out drivel And critics all croaking out crap. For any such doctrine is preachable In our tolerant Temple of Thought Where lads that are largely unteachable Learn subjects that cannot be taught. Good night to the Session — portentous Inside the Vice-Chancellor's gown, The personage who'll represent us To Public and Party and Crown. By enthusing for nitwitted novelty He wheedles the moment'ry Great, And at influence-dinner or grovel-tea Further worsens the whims of the State. So it is that, however much we rage, The glibber of heart and of tongue Build ladders to reach a life-peerage From the buzz-sawed-up brains of the young. Good night to the Session — the Chaplain, Progressive and Ritualist too, Who refers to the role of the apple in Eden as 'under review'. When the whole situation has ripened Of his temporal hopes these are chief: A notable increase in stipend, And the right to abandon belief. Meanwhile, his sermons: 'The Wafer — Is it really the Presence of God?' 'Is the Pill or the French Letter Safer?' And, 'Does the Biretta look Mod?' Good night to the Session — what Art meant, Or Science, no longer seemed plain, But our new Education Department Confuses confusion again. 'Those teach who can't do' runs the dictum, But for some even that's out of reach: They can't even teach — so they've picked 'em To teach other people to teach. Then alas for the next generation, For the pots fairly crackle with thorn. Where psychology meets education A terrible bullshit is born. Good night to the Session — the students So eager to put us all right, Whose conceit might have taken a few dents But that ploughing's no longer polite; So the essays drop round us in torrents Of jargon a mouldering mound, All worrying weakly at Lawrence, All drearily pounding at Pound; And their knowledge would get them through no test On Ghana or Greece or Vietnam, But they've mugged up enough for a Protest — An easyish form of exam. Good night to the Session — so solemn, 'Truth' and 'Freedom' their crusader crests, One hardly knows quite what to call 'em These children with beards or with breasts. When from State or parental Golcondas Treasure trickles to such little boys They spend it on reefers and Hondas — That is, upon sweeties and toys; While girls of delicious proportions Are thronging the Clinic's front stair, Some of them seeking abortions And some a psychiatrist's care. Good night to the Session — the politics, So noisy, and nagging, and null. You can tell how the time-bomb of Folly ticks By applying your ear to their skull; Of course, that is only a metaphor, But they have their metaphors too, Such as 'Fascist', that's hardly the better for Being used of a liberal and Jew — The Prof. of Applied Aeronautics, For failing such students as try, With LSD lapping their cortex, To fub up a fresh way to fly. Good night to the Session — the Union: The speeches with epigram packed, So high upon phatic communion, So low upon logic and fact. (Those epigrams? — Oh well, at any rate By now we're all quite reconciled To a version that's vastly degenerate From the Greek, via Voltaire and Wilde.) Then the bold resolutions devoted To the praise of a party or state In this context most obviously noted For its zeal in destroying debate. Good night to the Session — the sculpture: A jelly containing a clock Where they say, 'From the way that you gulped you're Therapeutically thrilled by the shock!' — It's the Shock of, alas, Recognition At what's yearly presented as new Since first seen at Duchamps' exhibition 'Des Maudits', in Nineteen-O-Two. But let's go along to the Happening, Where an artist can really unwind, Stuff like 'Rapists should not take the rap' penning In gamboge on a model's behind. Good night to the Session — a later Will come — and the freshmen we'll get! Their pretensions will be even greater, Their qualifications worse yet. — But don't be too deeply depressible At obtuseness aflame for applause; The louts that are loudest in decibel Melt away in post-graduate thaws. Don't succumb to an anger unreasoned! Most students are charming, and bright; And even some dons are quite decent ... But good night to the Session, good night! Inspired by Winthrop Mackworth Praed (1802-1839), "Good-Night to the Season." | ||
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This of course is my favorite part. | |||
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Whew! As an educator, gotta say, that one leaves me cold. Very cynical, & smacks of Hesiod in the eighth century B.C.: “I see no hope for the future of our people if they are dependent on the frivolous youth of today, for certainly all youth are reckless beyond words. When I was a boy, we were taught to be discreet and respectful of elders, but the present youth are exceedingly wise and impatient of restraint.” As to "where psychology meets education," I see no reason not to apply nearly a century's advances in understanding of the human psyche to the study of how to help all kids to learn. | |||
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sorry dup post | |||
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Amazing! It’s 8:30 am. I woke this morning with a couplet of this poem playing in my head. So, after the usual ablutions, I googled it and went to the first hit without looking at the source. It brought me here. Do you think Kalleh and I might be a teeny bit telepathic? | |||
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Eh, Bethree. It's meant to be sarcastic. I am a lifelong educator as well, and to me it is quite funny. And, yes, I have seen a terrible bullshit birthed when psychology meets education. Case in point: My psych professor at the University of Wisconsin told our class that "everyone always does their best." Really? That is a terrible bullshit! I was silent because I was a "good" student, but my classmate was not. She raised her hand and said, "I can tell you right now, I am not doing my best in this class! Let's just say, she did not Ace that class. | |||
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