By: Amrit Randhawa, SFU Student
In the realm of professing, our first species, the Non-Animus, gives the least fucks. Ancient philosophers theorized that human beings are comprised of two parts: body and soul. The Non-Animus’ soul says students can kiss their body’s ass. They arrive late to most lectures while admonishing lateness from students. The Non-Animus severely punishes late assignments while taking half the semester to grade them. Despite writing grade-threateningly poor instructions, they insist on “university-level writing.” Truly, the Non-Animus represents academia’s greatest hypocrite. Likely, tenure empowers the Non-Animus’ infuriating laziness.
Professordom’s fussiest fellow, the Anal-Retentor maintains low-level control through strict, authoritarian order. One can immediately identify the Anal-Retentor through their 45-page syllabus-magnum. This policy dossier dictates everything from email etiquette to in-class bowel movements. You will shit your pants before the Anal-Retentor accomodates your mid-lecture scatological needs. If their PowerPoint presentation fails to load, then the Anal-Retentor exhibits truly frightening bloodlust. Even TAs may feel the Anal-Retentor’s wrath; indeed, the Anal-Retentor verbally flogs their counterpart over the merest lesson plan hiccup. Fair warning: probability dictates that the Anal-Retentor hides undergraduate cadavers in their office.
Not to be confused with the Anal-Retentor, the Ultra-Tedium possesses the unique power to induce narcolepsy during lecture. Indeed, the Ultra-Tedium wields power so potent boredom itself falls asleep. They speak in monotone lullabies and add 10 pounds to your eyelids. The Ultra-Tedium often spends 40 mercilessly boring minutes on the preamble’s preamble. Invariably, the Ultra-Tedium ends lecture by saying, “We’ll cover the remaining material next week.” Then, next week, the Ultra-Tedium begins lecture by saying, “Okay, so moving on from last week’s material . . .”
The Gawawad Dayum:
With brains and beauty, the Gawawad Dayum represents God’s gift to professorship. This professor produces panic when they cold call drooling students. And, no, the lecture hall floods not; those are puddles of nervous sweat. But heed our warning: keep it in your pants! The Gawawad Dayum spent an entire life being hot. They will not divorce their partner for some mouth-breathers who watched Spongebob Squarepants; they will suplex horny novices for breakfast.