You’ve got it right, Mind Gamer. There aren’t any more details that make it less bad. The people were simply stupid. The idea that someone could have ‘paedophile’ as their job title never struck them as odd.
The event came after a few weeks of hysteria where people were ‘outed’ as paedophiles. A national newspaper printed the names and street addresses of a number of convicted paedophiles and threatened to print more each week until the Government introduced a law equivalent to Megan’s Law. There were several cases of mistaken identity. One innocent man had his house wrecked because he wore a neck brace and the local child molester had been pictured wearing a neck brace. The fact that the innocent man had a completely different face and was visibly much younger than the paedophile did not seem to trouble the mob.
Here’s an article about the paedophile/paediatrician incident. What made it even more stupefying was that Private Eye, a satirical magazine, had, a week or so earlier, produced a cartoon with a person running from an angry mob yelling back at them “I’m a PAEDIATRICIAN!”. Prescience or what.
Anna Quindlen wrote a column once on the occasion of the death of the family dog; she mentioned that a friend told her that when she was little, she believed that dogs and cats were the same animal, but dogs were male and cats were female. Anna found this view “entirely credible.”
I’ll bet I know how he (she?) ended up thinking that.
The Seven Years’ War in the mid-18th century is sometimes referred to as the first world war, because there was fighting in Europe, the Americas (well, North America anyway), Asia, and off the coasts of Africa. Fairly paltry next the big blowup in 1914, but probably the widest ranging war in world history up to that point.
Your student probably heard a professor refer to the Seven Years’ War as the first world war and confused it with the First World War we all know, the one from 1914 to 1918.
Still a remarkable bit of ignorance. I think most 17-year-olds would place WW1 in at least the right century.
This story is appropriate, given that today is Pearl Harbor Day. A few years ago, I was watching “Animal House” with my boyfriend, his roommate, and the roommate’s girlfriend. The scene where Belushi asks “Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor?” comes on. Boyfriend, roommate, and I all laugh. Roommate’s girlfriend asks, in all seriousness, “WAS it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor?” Ack.
Got another one: a few years ago my girlfriend, then in her 20’s, asked me what year the Russians landed on the moon. (In her defense, she was born in the early 70’s.)
When I was a kid, we had a… lovestruck and undiscrimating dog, and a passive, do-what-you-want-to-me cat that would have reinforced this misconception.
Of course, Paris isn’t in France. It’s in Las Vegas. I’ve been there. Applied for a job there, actually.
It’s really nice. There’s the Eiffel Tower, and when you go inside, the ceiling is painted sky blue, with fluffy white clouds so you can pretend you’re outdoors, and the pits all have canopies over them, which kind of gives them a sidwalk cafe/table games feel. Everybody says stuff in French to you- when you buy in at the tables, the dealers say “Bon chans” to you as they give you the chips. Oh, and there’s the mall- lots of really cool shops, and if you go all the way through, you end up at Bally’s.
Oh, and if you hang out outside at the right time of day, there’s these guys who play trash cans and trash can lids like drums, it’s really cool.
Paris in France. Really.
Next you’ll be telling me the Monte Carlo is in Monaco…
Picture a slightly bored Drain Bead at graduation rehearsal, only sort of listening to the woman up front with the big microphone.
Woman at front with big mic: Parking is available in the lots at the French Field House and St. John Arena, as well as the stadium and dorm lots. Show your mortarboard to the parking attendant and he’ll give you a special temporary pass.
Student in front of me, in hushed voice to the guy beside her: What’s a mortarboard?
There’s a Paris, MO. There’s also a Versailles, MO. Guess how it’s pronounced? Yup, just how it’s spelled. Ver-sales.
I suppose that makes sense. Uncultured, but still somewhat logical Still, I’m constantly amazed at the number of people who don’t know about the other Versailles. You know, the one way way over to the East? Did stuff during the war? Managed to get a treaty named after it?
