Ladies and gentlemen, and those who can still hear me after spending all night in that club. That drug cocktail made the 80s look like the 50s didn't it? Good morning! We're all still pretty high.
Today marks a milestone in your journey to both adulthood and temporary sobriety. The times they are a-changing, in the immortal words of your grandparents, and boy do those words still ring true. But these times are not imbued with the hope that comes from righteous social change, inclusive goals and a global view of humanity. Oh no, flower child.
These times are considerably darker and stupid. You will be the first of your generation to graduate in the Trump years, which started, as these things do with a questionable election thanks to widespread interference by a foreign power. But the voters spoke, at least some of them. How many of you voted?
[sparse hands raise weakly]
Well there you go. At least 12 of your classmates decided to wade out of the haze of bong smoke and Adderol to stumble to the polling center on campus. The other 900 of you apparently didn't get that email. Probably for the best, it would've been the wrong polling place thanks to Russia.
Last night I was surfing around Twitter when I came across an article about sex robots. This isn’t something I see every day so I clicked.
It was an article from the U.K. about how sex robots will one day be “better in bed than any human being,” or so says the expert they found, a Joel Snell from Kirkwood College in Iowa. I guess Kirkwood College in Iowa is a hotspot in the bustling future sex robot hypothesizing industry and this is clearly something people in the U.K. are interested in.
As I scrolled down I saw an ad almost immediately for another article titled “Woman wants to be so fat she can’t move,” with an open invitation to click. At this point I paused.
Yesterday a jury awarded Erin Andrews $55 million because someone took nude pictures of her and this morning Kim Kardashian gave it away for free, less any additional ad revenue I suppose from the boost in twitter followers. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think Kim should’ve held out for more money. This from someone who would monetize her skin scrapings if there was an effective way to catch them.
The internet is littered with successful corporate psychopaths with great teeth and substantial jawlines oozing to tell you how to succeed in business for only a modest non-refundable fee. You've seen their infomercials, you've probably bought their books, CDs and DVDs, and, if you're like me, you've got a neat stack of all this crap up in the attic someplace creating great nesting for various mice. Needless to say, it's mostly worthless garbage.
But wait, there's more! Keep reading and we shall reveal to you (without the nonrefundable fee) the TOP 5 SUREFIRE WAYS TO MOVE AHEAD AT WORK, guaranteed!1
Assembled graduates, friends, regents, wealthy donors, far poorer parents, hangers-on, dilettantes, dim-wits, and of course Chancellor Faraday, it is my highly compensated pleasure to welcome you to today's graduation ceremony for the Class of 2015. It has been three years since I've had the pleasure of addressing the student body here at Yalvard.
Many things rush to your mind when asked to give a commencement address. "How large is my fee?" for example. Will I sound like Steve Jobs or Bob Dylan? How do I adequately express my resentment of over-privileged youth while still jamming some hard won life lessons down the gullet of a grotesquely debauched and hung-over crowd?
The answer is you can't. Like Bob De Niro recently reminded another groups of graduates, "You're fucked."
As to the other answers, well let's just say my fee has already financed a debauched week of my own in the south of France and had enough left over to settle the mortgage on my villa in St. Lucia. But I digress. Let's return to you.
You were born in or about 1993, a year that brought us "Sleepless in Seattle," caused Haddaway to ponder "What is love?" and saw the debut of one of history's greatest television shows "The X-Files." You were just babies, but I had recently graduated from college myself, which is merely one of the deeply depressing realizations I had while penning this masterpiece.