April Fool’s Issue: Application Essay: GW is the best. College. Ever.

Reader’s note: This story is satirical in nature and published in a spoof issue.

I’m a tool. An incredibly big tool. I really want to go to GW. It’s not because I have brownnosed teachers since pre-K. It isn’t even because I starred in three renditions of “Fiddler on the Roof” in the same year in adjoining suburban Jersey school districts. There’s more to it than that.

It really is with great pleasure that I am able to apply to this prestigious, 52nd-ranked university. I have taken a keen interest in this premier academic institution for many years. I’ll be honest, at first I thought I was looking at Georgetown. But once I saw the

flash intro on the admissions Web site, I was hooked. During my illustrious high school career, I even went as far as to look at The Pussy twice weekly. Their editorials perennially blasting all aspects of GW life seem unfairly critical.

After visiting the scenic Foggy Bottom Campus – with its small-town, rustic feel – and talking to the students, I realized that The Pussy gives the University too much flak. Their sub-par journalism and sophomoric attempt at humor falsely portrays the GW I learned about from a formal visit to campus last month. The Info Session and DOOMSDAY METEOR tour guides really enlightened me about this village of scholars’ true self.

What follows is the manifesto of how this is the best possible school to attend anywhere in the world – even in spite of the persistent complaints from that rag.

Firstly, many have derided the high tuition there. I, for one, think that cost equals quality. In my AP/IB algebra class last year, we would call that a direct relationship. GW is one of the most affordable schools in the country, the admissions staff told me. And they wouldn’t lie.

From my own research, it seems like Takea Napp, the new president at GW, is a visionary who should be treasured. Being disconnected from and disinterested in the student body is a real advantage. Who cares what the undergraduates think? Clearly, they don’t know what’s good for them; adolescence doesn’t end until you have a Ph.D. in English literature.

My father, the successful Cherry Hill accountant, has always told me that what matters most in life is the bottom line. GW’s administrators know a lot about this, and that speaks to me. They think that it is prudent to have five CVSs in Foggy Bottom. Who am I to question their judgment? Director of Misinformation Terry Schiavo said it best in an article last week: “business customers first and students second.” My father would be proud.

Furthermore, University funds need to be saved to hire more adjunct faculty. Full-time professors, in my estimation, are grossly overrated. My tour guide said the tenured faculty members are “too academic” and aren’t nearly as amenable to extensions on homework assignments. Adjuncts, therefore, are a so-called double whammy of being push-overs plus cheap labor.

Lastly, the dining services at J Street seem to truly brighten the certain je ne sais quis of D.C. cuisine. My Info Session leader explained the flexible hours and how many eateries are open significantly past my typical 8 p.m. bedtime. I was told that students only eat in their dorm rooms on Saturdays and Sundays, so it makes much sense that the student union’s cafeteria is shut down on the weekend. Also, J Street apparently offers vegetarian and health food at a health food venue called Wendy’s. I’m sure it’s different than the ones we have on the NJ Turnpike.

Perhaps, the happiest about is getting a new Blackberry. I got my first one for my soccer-themed Bar Mitzvah, and since then I’ve gotten up to 80 words per minute. When I’m working up on the Hill next semester for my congressman, no doubt I’ll be sending a lot of important e-mails. I imagine I’ll be sitting at RH Bistro with my meth clinic neighbors, sending messages about how HR274 will never pass without earmarks for panda bears.

After internalizing all of the information I learned visiting campus, I’m more resolved than ever in my decision to commit my life to this premier university. My application for Colonial Cabinet is already half filled out, in fact.

Four years from now, I will be enriched from a high-priced school, led by a woefully detached president, taught by part-time day laborers, that is profit-driven through and through. Something really does happen here!

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