Oxbridge Graduates Mostly Very Annoying
Two of the most important places on Earth, Oxford and Cambridge Universities, have discovered that their graduates are mostly very annoying, obnoxious, and full of themselves for no good reason. The administrators of both universities are reportedly making changes to their syllabi in an effort to prevent students from becoming insufferable twats.
On the chopping block are several of their most popular classes, including such stalwarts as “Evaluating People: The Oxford Way,” and “Propaganda and Social Engineering: From Those Who Really Know How It’s Done,” and of course, the most vital of all, “The Golden Rule: Never, Ever Sound Wrong, No Matter What.”
Oxbridge students have taken to Facebook to express their disgust, pumping out hundreds of dazzling last-minute essays peppered with tendentious facts and semi-relevant references that successfully convey an apparent aura of knowledge.
“Not since General Custer’s inefficient use of cavalry formation has there been such a patent example of mismanagement,” said Percy Peregrine, an Oxford history student. “Where am I going to get my pride and personality from now?”
“Nelson Mandela was once in prison,” said another. “That’s how I feel.”
We spoke to one of the faceless wraiths from the mysterious society in charge of both institutions, The Darkened Cave, about their recent decisions. “Yes, I do feel for the little ones,” he rasped. “They strive and toil for so long to gain a place here that they’ll do absolutely anything to prove it was all worthwhile, no matter how much reality they need reinterpret or flat out ignore in order to do it. But reality is there, and it must be suffered.”
Currently, students at an Oxbridge mage-cradle learn vital techniques to help them navigate through life. One very popular class covers all the questions one should ask another person when first meeting them, including “what school did you go to?” and “which college did you go to?” and “which professors did you have when you went to those colleges and schools?” It is widely considered to be the backbone of a good Oxbridge education, without which society could not function. “If I didn’t have that introduction to socialising,” said Percy Honeysuckle, reader of music, “I wouldn’t have been indoctrinated with an abstract hierarchy of irrelevant minutiae for me to classify people with. I may as well live in America.”
Percy Clumplestiltskin agreed. “How am I going to know when to tell my anecdotes about the dopey English professor who drank King’s Ginger liqueur out of a suede knapsack and said some vaguely funny things occasionally? I’m going to have to try something else entirely, like relating to people.”
According to the wispy, ominous shadow-fiends who proposed the cuts, they are merely attempting to accelerate the inevitable. “Eventually,” they hissed, “after a period of twattery typically lasting five years after graduation, our alumni start to realise that merit and value also exist on other parts of the planet completely independent of Oxbridge magic. This initial shock, totally alien to all they have been brought up to believe, then frees them up to realise it is not really necessary to sound right all the time; in fact, it’s quite annoying. We just want to bring this inevitable wisdom forward a few years and teach our students how to be people, rather than some sort of rabid, dialectical psychotic.”
Percy Snapcrackle, PhD student, was not impressed. “If I can’t win an argument just by saying I went to Oxford then what was the point?”