Come and Get Us, China

When I graduated from New York University in 1969, I felt proud. I also felt smarter, having studied hard and learned so much about a wide variety of subjects. Although I was a fine arts major with an emphasis on painting, I still was required to take many non-art courses to earn my degree. I had to read all the works of Shakespeare. I studied World Wars I and II. And I was forced to choose what was then called an elective: either physics or chemistry.

NYU has changed a lot since then, as has the student body. Now a popular class offered is called "Taylor Swift." It's hard to get into it since just about every student goes for it. Participants of the weekly two and a half hour class study not only the young singer's music but also her personal life. Like her feud with rapper Kanye West (who knew?) and who was the mystery man in her song about a scarf he had given her, or maybe it was her scarf that he kept or some such rot, I don't know her music or her dating history. (It's rumored to be Jake Gyllenhaal, but if I had taken that class I would know for sure and have a lot more self-confidence.)

Similar classes at NYU focus on Aretha Franklin, James Brown and Nirvana. I weep every day for the citizens of Ukraine. But I also weep for our perpetually misguided and deeply dumb  younger generations who emerge from their coddled four (or five or six)-year educations knowing little more than they did when they started. The Chinese should just come and get us right now -- we're easy pickins.