[Note: The following is excerpted from the valedictory address made by graduating senior Leslie K. Normal at the Commencement of the Class of 2033.]
"Yes, now is a time for reflecting, as we, the first graduating class to fulfill all seventy-six of the new distributive requirements, prepare to leave this hallowed place. Why, I can remember when we were all just first-year automatons, and the Administration -- blessed be Their Name -- had just broken ground on a new parking lot for the Trustees, having recently demolished another student dorm. Unfortunately, the Administration could only house six percent of all students that year, but wasn't that a pretty parking lot?
"Indeed, we certainly have learned a great deal during our time at Freedman University. I recall one afternoon my junior spring, as I was walking across the Dartmouth Campus -- I was coming from a meeting sponsored by the Administration to raise awareness for students of Brazilian-Pakistani descent, when I decided to visit the Student Museum. I was particularly interested in seeing the new Greek System Exhibit that had just opened, commemorating a dark time in our university's history, before the advent of the Anti-Sexist, Anti-Racist, Anti-Homophobic, Anti-Xenophobic, Anti-Alcoholic, Anti-Biological Omni-Species Social Dwellings.
"Anyway, I was on my way to the Museum when I realized that I would be passing the Pelton Boxes, so I thought that now would be as good a time as any to check and see if I'd gotten any mail. I entered the Hop, and suddenly felt my stomach stir with hunger, so I decided to order a fried lardburger ... it was only twenty-nine dollars back then. I figured, I've got seven thousand dollars of mandatory DBA to use -- might as well get to it!
"Just then I heard a familiar voice call out my name: 'Hey Leslie!' I turned to see my good friend Chris Simple, who had just returned from an FSP on Saturn.
"'And how was your trip?' I asked Chris.
"'Great! I may have secured an internship with the Philip Morris Waste Disposal Re-Maintenance Group.'
"'Really?' I said. 'And what do they do?'
"'Well,' said Chris, 'ever since we started dumping our garbage into space, there have been all kinds of environment repercussions, and since I'm a Creative Writing major, they thought I'd be ideal for doing some work in their Semantic Re-Interpretation Division ... you know, the propaganda wing.' Needless to say, I was thrilled to see that corporate recruiting was alive and well at Freedman U.
"Well, I was anxious to get to the Museum before it closed, but, as you might have guessed, I got sidetracked again, this time on my way out of the Hop. 'Good afternoon, Leslie unit!' someone shouted to me. It was my favorite teaching assistant, Matrix-31!
"Matrix-31, or M-31, as it was known to its friends, was, of course, the computerized artificial intelligence who taught my cognitive dissonance seminar via the AnesthesiaNet. M-31 also functioned as a robotic Safety & Suppression Officer, and was currently making the rounds on campus, arresting various students for sugar and caffeine intoxication.
''How's it going, M-31?' I asked gamely. 'Did you catch the Oscars last night? That Emilio Estevez is such an old codger!'
"'Affirmative, Leslie unit. How proceed your studies?'
"'Oh, fine,' I answered. 'I'm just taking a little break before I get to work.'
"'Negative, Leslie unit.' M-31 began to beep and buzz, red lights flashing on its titanium-cranium. A metallic tazer emerged from its abdomenal carriage. 'You will begin your studies now!'
"Thin bolts of blue lightning shot out from M-31, hitting me directly in the chest. I fell to the ground. When I emerged from my unconscious stupor, I realized I had been transported to a large white room whose walls were made entirely of foam rubber. I tried to move, but soon found that my arms had been bound in a stifling white straightjacket.
"Obviously I'd been taken to Dick's House.
"And as I was nursed back to health at Dick's House with daily injections of Prozactin-Thorazinan-Melatonican, I began to understand what this university is all about. My fellow seniors, we must not fail to ignore our individual worth. Never forget that Freedman University is a financial machine, and we are merely its well-oiled cogs.
"Excelsior, Freedman!"
