Wednesday, May 24, 2006

 

Smith College Class of 2000 Dodges a Bullet

Jodie Foster was slated to speak at my commencement ceremony at Smith. However, after rampant rumors of her lesbish ways, she decided that speaking at Smith commencement double-ought would not be the optimal way of maintaining her in-the-closet status. So the bitch backed out, and to replace her Smith brought in Judy Chicago, an obscure femi-nazi artist most famous for her 1970s collection of vagina-shaped ashtrays named for prominent feminist icons, entitled "The Dinner Party":




Seriously, have you ever seen anything more stupid? Smith claimed that Jodie Foster's sudden departure from the much-touted celebri-commencement was due to "scheduling conflicts," and then they hired this last-minute bitch instead. Judy Chicago's commencement speech was essentially a tirade about how "the most pernicious lie" told to my generation is that we could have a family and a career (not both, consistent with the pucker-faced, undersexed bitterness characterizing the good old days of womyn's lib). So we better choose which path we're taking now, because Judy Chicago got shafted by the man, and therefore my class would benefit immensely from her transition lens-wearing voice of experience. This entirely fruitless advice blizzard was followed by an hour of ranting about her mortgage payments. Why did she bother? There's no way I'm heeding the sage wisdom of a bitch with teeth so bad that I've seen better on British people:I was consoled only by the fact that I'd smuggled four bottles of champagne (fringe benefit of shapeless graduation attire) under my robe, and was thus drunkenly able to ignore our commencement speaker's pointless attempts to alter the myth that she is a social outcast who never gets laid. Plus, the day previously, I'd won an award for "excellence in research in microbiology/immunology" (a shoo-in, since I was the only one studying said subjects) to the tune of $600, and I immediately cashed the prize money check and purchased a keg. Since I'd spent the last 24 hours guzzling Natty Light from that keg, and upon hearing the first notes of "Pomp and Circumstance" I cracked the first bottle of communal champers, the message of my commencement speech was the last thing on my mind. Smith could have hired Weird Al Yankovic to provide us with graduation day words of wisdom, and I wouldn't have given a fuck. I certainly wasn't missing Jodie Foster, since I spent this major event getting absolutely plastered.

Now I know what I missed out on in terms of semi-famous, semi-smart commencement speakers. This year, Jodie Foster was able to fulfill her obligations to speak at U-Penn, since she hasn't been getting much well-lauded movie work lately. I finally found out how badly Smith got shafted by Clarice Starling at my graduation ceremony. To my family: I'm sorry that you flew all the way to Assachusetts, only to not witness Hodie Foster sing the lyrics to Eminem's "Lose Yourself."

All the bitches complaining about how Judy Chicago couldn't step to Jodie Foster in terms of unattractive Sapphic iconography should just watch this. For the first time in my life, I'm saying, thank you, Vagina Ashtray! You gave a GREAT speech, and you seemed really smart. By comparison, anyway.


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