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College Life
a Breeze at Fictional University
The depression faced
by many Carnegie Mellon students would be alleviated by attending
the University of Psychogenic Fugue. Unfortunately, there is no
hope, as UPF is fictional, and exists only online and in print
form.
If there ever comes a time when you start
to second-guess your major -- when ECE loses its old magic, when
technical writing starts to seem dry, or when you begin to think
that drama students have acquired the stereotype of being brash
and pretentious -- then you might want to consider transferring
to the University of Psychogenic Fugue.
With over 15 majors that each tap into basic, intuitive skills,
you're bound to find your niche. Standard English and psychology
tracks are featured, but this college is best known for its "alternative" courses
of study.
At the dream-come-almost-true University of Psychogenic Fugue, undergraduates can join the Department of Love, founded by a ragtag group of hippies in 1969, or concentrate on the University's Suburban Science program, which has garnered much praise for its outstanding achievement in the advancement of popular culture.
The Department of Culinary Arts teaches chefs-to-be how to make the most of a can opener and an open mind, and a degree in Spirituality is described by the online course catalog (http://www.psychogenic-fugue.com) as "a free pass to the afterlife." The University even boasts a unique major in Glamour, "[for] students who every night dream of [a] magical world full of sexy men and dangerously thin women."
Clearly, the University of Psychogenic Fugue has a course of study for everyone.
Over 375 courses are offered, ranging from standard science and psychology practicums to more atypical studies. The communications curriculum includes such useful courses as "Calling in Sick," "The Angry Letter," and "Women Who Are Larger Sized," a primer in political correctness.
Those in the Department of Suburban Science can register for "How To Be A Carnie" and the more advanced "How To Stand In Line," which meets in a narrow, chairless hallway.
The Department of Travel goes so far as
to offer a "Tripping" class, which "[prepares]
students to enjoy a safe, sane, and enlightening hallucinogenic
experience," placing special emphasis on how to "ward
off bad trips by yelling 'No!' at anything that appears to move."
A fact of particular interest to Carnegie Mellon students: No
Computing Skills Workshop requirement.
Don't think for a moment, though, that the University's rigorous academic schedule comes at the cost of student life on campus. A bounty of organizations provide the social dimension necessary for the development of well-rounded pupils.
Students who actively seek change have the option of joining a group of self-proclaimed Poetry Terrorists, the Future Corporate Raiders of America, or the Language Police.
The Doomsday Umbrella Associa-tion holds frantic weekly meetings for those convinced of the imminent destruction of the world. The University enjoys a thriving Greek system, featuring the world's only chapters of the Omega Men and the Sigma Sigma Rigby brotherhood.
In lieu of traditional athletic teams, students have organized the Dessert Lovers' Club, the Winter Smokers, and the Young Mothers Club. With the approval of a certified UPF headshrinker, undergraduates may even join University-sponsored therapy and support group, including Girls Who Love Horses and Failed Vegetarians Unite.
The University's campus itself is beautiful and sprawling, funded largely by a bi-weekly all-girl wet t-shirt contest, and students living on campus can rest assured of their relative safety.
The number of love crimes reported has gone down significantly in the past year. The University staff is currently working tirelessly to bring down the level of crimes against nature, and only 1.5 maimings have been announced in the past 10 years.
No arrests have been made, so the school's record remains pristine in the eyes of the law. The University is nearly ideal. Just one problem: As its name implies, the University of Psychogenic Fugue isn't real. A note at the bottom of the website reads, "The University of Psychogenic Fugue is a complete mythology. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or things is purely coincidental."
Further navigation of the site reveals the fact that the college exists solely on computer screens and in the form of a book, available for only $14.95 from Meteorite Press. T-shirts, bumper stickers, window clings, latte mugs, and even a fake diploma are also for sale.
The brainchild of people with some serious free time on their hands, The University of Psychogenic Fugue is only for students to dream about. There are currently no (reputable) real-world institutions that will exempt final exams if the professor expresses earnest concern that none of his students will be able to pass, and no other college issues credit for "Reaching Bottom."
Still, despite the disillusionment with Carnegie Mellon that will inevitably arise as a result, the website is well worth a few moments of idle attention. Check it out while you're toiling away at the dull light of your monitor, writing reports, and doing research for your own classes, which, lamentably, do not include "Any Day Can Be A Fun Day."
