And so, with a massive funding short fall to make up, Marshmallow lifts the heavy mantle and wields the axe; clearing away the brambles
and gristle, it’s the Marshmallow Ladyboy Jesus Guide to Saving College Cash. So, get rid of this lot:
The “Irish” Language
Come on lads, it’s been dead a long while. The bizarre trotting out of Gaelic after GAA games and at middle class baptisms is akin to necrophilia. It’s gone. By admitting this, college could save tons of money – a department gone, all the translations gone, and the costly and pernicious Scéim Chónaithe (Irish Accommodation) mercifully gone.
Union Abject useless fucking money drain that college spends a huge amount of time and money ignoring. In order to ensure that our elected representatives are powerless and impotent, college ties them up in endless committees – each stuffed with members of staff, all of whom need to be paid. Cut the pretense – college doesn’t give a fiddler’s shit what the union says or does, only five people would notice if this flaccid parody of democracy was gone, and huge volumes of cash would be saved.
A gigantic waste of time and money, ‘Schols’ exists to fellate the shrivelled egos of a small minority of insecure social rejects who need, crave, and yearn for public validation. As well as massaging their twisted sense of self worth, college deigns to give them food and shelter – out of our pockets. Roughly seventy of these freaks and geeks are ennobled each year, each one another boil on the face of Trinity. She used to be so pretty.
Like woodwork and baking, drama has no place in a serious third level institution. Hego was verbally abused for his decision to cut an acting course last year. The problem was, of course, not that it was cut, but the absurd justification for it – lack of funds. While funds are an issue, the main problem here is one of self respect. A university that teaches drama is like a middle-aged man who plays with trains.
Doddery olds who litter campus, flouncing around dribbling sherry and soft cheese. Trinity only ever seems to offer the recognition of Fellowship to lecturers just as they slip off into a bowel-loosening second childhood. This can be as early as the early thirties in Mathematicians, Philosophers and Theologians.
If we imagine college to be a cake, with the students as a dry medical sponge and the academics as delicious icing, then the administrative services are the plate. They support the whole culinary structure. However here the whole dish appears as a surrealist nightmare; a tiny cup cake balanced in the middle of a colossal sliver platter that stretches beyond the edges of vision.
In this shining world of Google machines and wikitruth, it is more than a little decadent that college exists at all in a physical sense. Trinity’s main campus dominates the centre of Dublin, and is a gross misuse of space and resources. Sell the bastard, we’d be able to clear all the black holes that currently dot TCD’s balance sheet and have enough left to buy a new campus somewhere nice and warm. Like Tahiti.
Much of the expense associated with the running of college can be traced back to a single source – students. Get rid of these parasites. They add nothing academically, are often physically repulsive and there is something morally repugnant about their vampiric draining of energy and resources. Get rid of them and you’ve got it cracked.