By Donald Testa Sr., Professor of Engineering Queen’s University
Quick, what’s 529 divided by 23? What’s the matter, forget your 23 times table, you miserable excuse for an engineering graduate? Solar calculator not working because you’re in the dark? Spare me your sob stories, you pussy.
An engineer should be prepared to make calculations like these at any moment. You’re not cut out for this line of work. I can slide rule your ass under the table.
Back in my day of schooling, the only adding machine in the world was under Nazi control. But you didn’t see me complaining! The Allies still marched on Berlin, and their artillery trajectories still rained hot burning shrapnel love on old Jerry & Co., with minimal collateral damage. How did they do it, you ask? I should slap you for your insolence. The slide rule, imbecile!
I must say, old bean, they sure don’t train engineers like they used to. Being allowed to bring a calculating device into an exam is sacrilege. If you cannot determine the square root of 5 in your head, you deserve to be shot. In fact, the Faculty used to enforce that rule literally until 1939, when the blasted Liberals came into power. There were so many bodies in the examination hall after the first year calculus final, you’d think you were at Dieppe. On the plus side, the university had to employ extra custodians to clear out the corpses, which created jobs. Forgive me, I tend to drift off-topic in my old age.
But what remains sharp as a bayonet is my ability to solve complex trigonometric equations with nothing more than my platinum slide rule, and the volumes of trig tables burned into my memory. You are lucky if today’s young engineer can recite his 18-times table! Elementary! I say, if you wish to call yourself an engineer, you should be able to design a bridge on the back of a napkin.
AutoCAD, shmottoCAD.
I ask you this: if you were stranded on a tropical island, and your calculator washed ashore ruined, how would you begin to plan your dramatic escape? Slide rules do not cease to function when dropped in water! I bet you never thought of that, you bumbling buffoon. How would you calculate the displacement of your raft, to ensure it stays afloat given the weight of the coconuts required to sustain your famished and broken personage? What size should you make the sail to maximize thrust? Today’s engineer would not know where to begin.
But when your cruise ship sinks and you manage to swim to your tropical atoll, you will mark my words, and will thank God you had me for a professor.
Do they sell engineering degrees at the tuck shop these days? How else would you explain the plague of so-called scientists that will eventually clog up our country’s social welfare net, who cannot count past ten without the aid of a calculator? You make me sick.
Nurse, bring me my medicine.
