Learn This Lesson

You're probably wondering where that valedictorian speech is, brainiac. Well, here it is. I'm wondering where my check is. I recall that you and I signed something, and I bet you do too, unless you'd like to carry out a fully online renege.

As I, your class's valedictorian, was considering the grave responsibility I had in writing the speech I am currently delivering, I found my pen, nay, my brains silenced. But like the raspberry of Euripides--and this is a reference I have made for the benefit of you classics majors--my brain has sprouted and grown the vines of inspiration, vines that, as my fraternity is well aware, bears winegrapes on account of the drinking aspect.

College. Webster's dictionary defines college as "a work of art that is made by attaching pieces of different materials (such as paper, cloth, or wood) to a flat surface." But let me assure you, class of AD 8078, none of the materials that compose our memories of this, the college from which we are all graduating as I speak, are made of such feeble material as cloth and so on.

It occurs to me that, as your valedictorian, I am the smartest person in our class, but considering the fact that I'm at best of middling intelligence, I can only infer that we are all collectively very dumb. Thank you and good luck, you are so sweet.

It doesn't make sense that a valedictorian can't come up with their own speech. After all, your homely nose has spent the last four years of its life burrowing deeply under such texts as The Trivium: The Liberal Arts of Logic, Grammar, and Rhetoric: Understanding the Nature and Function of Language (Joseph, 2002), Cognition and the Symbolic Processes (Weimer & Palermo, eds., 1974), Four Thousand And One Ways To 'Use' Prasiolite Quartz (Foam, 1810), The Tattvasangraha of Shantaraksita: With the Commentary of Kamalashila (Jha, tr., 1986), Semantics (Lyons, 1977), and Disquisitiones Magicae (Delrio, 1599).

Good thing you're not getting graded on your speech. I'm assuming since the date of this writing is June 5, 2016, that you might actually have already graduated if we're talking about 'uni' here, which so sue me I guess I didn't confirm with you, but high school students graduate around now-ish so maybe there's time. I'm sure you recall the email I got from you that itemized the following of your problems:

Dear Peter,

My name is ********** ***, a student who is about to graduate from ******** and am screwed unless you write my valedictorian speech for me. I was too busy studying to remember that I am the most studious person who's about to graduate from this specific educational facility. Having learned from the essay on your website, A Rough Guide To Your Path To Speechwriting, Stagecraft, and Crowd-Have, I realize this is something I'd just screw up, and that you know all about speech. Having combined these divers considerations, I am willing--hell, dying--to give you a check with the number $***,***.** on it for your trouble. I am graduating next month, on May 20, 2010, so please please get it to me before then.

Yours trustingly,

To resolve everything here, I'm going to copy and paste below an article from the May 21, 2010 issue of the ******** Tribute-Gazetteer, your school's only newspaper:

Big check found in their possession driven to dump

Our school's valedictorian, ********** ***, as a result of totally ruining everybody's important day, has been demoted to a wee kindergartener, and will begin their first day this September. The person who is writing this newspaper article has calculated that, where just a day ago, the promising seventeen-to-twenty-two year old valedictorian was in the class of '10, they are now either in the class of '23 or '27, depending on whether the school we're talking about is high school or college.

T.G.I.F.: Class Dismissed