A humorous take on the absurdities of higher education and why we spend years studying things that may or may not be useful in real life
Computer Science is the art of making computers do things you didn’t plan for and fixing things they refuse to do. Students spend endless hours debugging code, learning obscure algorithms, and asking existential questions like "Why does this program crash at 3AM?" and "Did I choose the right major?"
You will learn programming languages with names that sound like sci-fi spells, create applications no one will ever use, and suffer the joy of compiler errors that have absolutely no explanation. Sometimes, your best work is discovered by accident when your code accidentally works.
Group projects are the real thrill: one student does all the work, another disappears, and the third mysteriously submits the wrong file. You’ll also realize that Stack Overflow is your spiritual home.
CS is like teaching a literal genie to follow instructions while secretly wishing it would read your mind.
Electrical Engineering is the study of magic smoke and invisible forces that make gadgets work. Students memorize circuit laws, solve equations that make no sense to the uninitiated, and occasionally discover that electricity has a mind of its own.
EE involves long nights soldering, troubleshooting, and pretending to understand why the LED flickers. Professors expect you to visualize current, voltage, and resistance in your head, even though your brain is already full of caffeine and self-doubt.
You will learn to love Ohm’s Law, hate short circuits, and respect the mysterious beauty of a functioning microcontroller. Labs are part science, part magic, and part guessing which wire goes where.
EE is organized witchcraft with math as your wand.
Mechanical Engineering is the science of making machines move without immediately falling apart. You will spend hours calculating stress, torque, and power, then pray your design survives first contact with reality.
ME students learn thermodynamics, fluid mechanics, material science, and why bearings fail at the worst possible time. Lab experiments often involve catastrophic failures, loud noises, and the occasional fire extinguisher.
Group projects are chaotic: one builds, one documents, one questions existence. Ultimately, you’ll learn patience, problem-solving, and how to make metal obey your will.
ME is convincing metal and machines to do what you want, using math, physics, and hope.
Physics is the study of why things fall down, what makes them move, and how to pretend you understand quantum mechanics. Students explore classical mechanics, electromagnetism, relativity, and the bizarre world of particle physics.
Labs involve pendulums, springs, lasers, and sometimes expensive explosions. Students develop the ability to calculate the trajectory of a coffee cup flying across the room, or at least feel like they could if it were part of the curriculum.
Beyond equations, you’ll ponder philosophical questions like "Is time real?" and "Why does gravity exist?" while hoping your exam answers are sufficient for a passing grade.
Physics is predicting the universe while failing to predict your grade.
Chemistry is the art of mixing chemicals to see if something explodes or smells bad. Students learn organic, inorganic, physical, and analytical chemistry while questioning every life choice that led them here.
You will titrate, heat, measure, and clean endlessly. Every reaction teaches patience, precision, and humility. Lab safety becomes a way of life, as minor mistakes can lead to colorful disasters.
Exams test your memory of reactions, mechanisms, and the occasional Greek letter. In the end, you learn the magical secret: chemistry is just organized chaos with measurable outcomes.
Chemistry is cooking with rules, measurements, and the constant fear of explosions.
Biology is the study of life in all forms, from microscopic bacteria to giant whales. Students memorize Latin names, life cycles, cell structures, and evolutionary processes while questioning the relevance of each fact.
Labs involve microscopes, dissections, and sometimes a lingering existential dread as you realize all life is interconnected in complicated and messy ways. Field trips can involve mud, insects, and the realization that nature doesn’t care about your shoes.
Ultimately, biology teaches observation, critical thinking, and appreciation for life, even if it’s mostly about memorizing terms and processes for exams.
Biology is learning why life exists, and why you’re still confused about it on Monday morning.
English Literature is reading, analyzing, and writing about texts that are centuries old. Students interpret symbolism, themes, and hidden meanings, often arguing passionately about what a character “really meant.”
You’ll read novels, poems, plays, and essays, learning to connect them to cultural and historical contexts. Essays are written in dense prose, proving your insights are as deep as your caffeine intake allows.
Debates about interpretation are common, as one professor may insist the protagonist is heroic, while another thinks they’re morally bankrupt. Success requires creativity, critical thinking, and a flair for dramatic over-explanation.
English Lit is convincing someone that curtains in a room symbolize humanity’s eternal struggle.
History is cataloging all human decisions, mistakes, wars, and inventions. Students learn timelines, analyze events, and debate why humans seem to repeat errors despite centuries of evidence.
Research involves reading primary sources, secondary analysis, and occasionally deciphering handwriting older than your grandparents. Essays argue causes, effects, and consequences of events with the seriousness of someone defusing a bomb.
You’ll ponder morality, leadership, and societal evolution, while realizing that human nature hasn’t changed much. Exams test memory, reasoning, and your ability to connect seemingly unrelated events.
History is reading about everyone else’s mistakes to feel better about your own.
Art History is the academic study of visual culture across centuries. Students analyze paintings, sculptures, and architecture to understand historical and cultural significance. Success often depends on creating the most convoluted interpretation.
Classes involve museum trips, research papers, and the ability to describe abstract concepts convincingly. You learn that the value of art often lies more in the explanation than in the work itself.
Grades reward creativity, historical knowledge, and an uncanny ability to make ordinary objects sound profound. In exams, a single clever sentence can sometimes outweigh hours of observation.
Art History is saying “this blob of paint represents existential despair” with confidence and style.
Economics is the study of how money moves, why you never have enough, and how graphs can explain everything. Students learn microeconomics, macroeconomics, and the ever-important art of pretending humans are rational.
Classes involve supply-demand curves, utility functions, and endless thought experiments. Professors love making models that fail to predict real life, but you learn to appreciate the beauty of abstract reasoning.
Exams require analyzing complex scenarios, solving problems, and occasionally accepting that the real world doesn’t match the theory. Success comes from combining math, logic, and confidence.
Economics is making charts to explain why your wallet is empty.
Psychology is the study of the human mind, behavior, and why people act in inexplicable ways. Students learn theories, conduct experiments, and often reflect on their own mental health in the process.
Labs involve observing humans or animals, measuring responses, and occasionally eating chocolate to manage stress. Assignments test your understanding of concepts, statistics, and your ability to guess what the professor wants.
Success in psychology requires curiosity, empathy, and occasionally lying on a couch in a lab pretending to analyze yourself. The real reward is understanding why humans are simultaneously fascinating and ridiculous.
Psychology is explaining human weirdness while simultaneously indulging in your own.
Political Science examines governments, policies, and the eternal question: why do politicians do the things they do? Students study political theory, history, international relations, and public administration.
Courses analyze political systems, voting behavior, and the influence of media. Professors expect analytical thinking, persuasive writing, and the ability to predict outcomes in inherently unpredictable environments.
Success comes from combining facts, theory, and rhetoric to explain why leaders make decisions that seem completely illogical to the rest of us.
Political Science is describing confusing human behavior using fancy words and charts.
Mathematics is inventing clever ways to avoid simple arithmetic while proving the universe obeys rules you barely understand. Students tackle algebra, calculus, statistics, and endless proofs.
You’ll spend hours proving the obvious, memorizing formulas, and learning that X can stand for literally anything. Exams are brutal, combining creativity, logic, and mental endurance.
The beauty of mathematics is the clarity it offers, while the tragedy is realizing nobody cares outside academia. Yet the mental discipline is invaluable, even if your friends pretend they never use it.
Mathematics is making simple things complicated in order to feel smart.
Business Administration teaches the art of using jargon to make obvious ideas sound profound. Students learn marketing, management, finance, HR, and endless PowerPoint skills.
Case studies involve hypothetical companies, imaginary problems, and the art of convincing professors that your strategies will solve them. Internships teach real-world chaos where textbooks barely help.
Success comes from networking, persuasion, and the ability to say "synergy" convincingly. Graduation provides confidence, contacts, and a slight existential dread about the corporate world.
Business is making common sense sound like a $200/hour consulting insight.
Music Theory is the study of rules, harmony, and rhythm—often broken by musicians anyway. Students learn scales, chords, notation, and analysis while marveling at compositions across genres.
Assignments involve analyzing famous pieces, composing original works, and understanding why certain combinations of notes evoke emotion. Exams test both technical knowledge and creative interpretation.
The irony is that great musicians often ignore theory entirely, while theory helps everyone else sound impressive. Music Theory blends logic, creativity, and ear training in ways only partially appreciated outside classrooms.
Music Theory explains why the Beatles were geniuses in terms that would confuse the Beatles themselves.
Higher education is spending large sums of money learning things you may never use, from people who may never use them themselves, all in preparation for a job that may not exist by the time you graduate.
The beautiful part: you gain knowledge, skills, and friendships. The tragic part: debt, existential dread, and realizing the world doesn’t care about your GPA.
You learn to think critically, analyze problems, and survive stressful deadlines while questioning why you chose this path. You meet lifelong friends, mentors, and rivals, all while navigating absurd systems and expectations.
In the end, college is a mix of discovery, frustration, enlightenment, and comedy. The experience is as unpredictable as it is transformative, leaving you with memories, insights, and occasional trauma.
College is a four-year-long group project where nobody communicates perfectly, grades are arbitrary, and you somehow survive with valuable life lessons, even if the experience is absurdly chaotic.