So I had my graduation ceremony last night. I got an Associate’s Degree from a technical school for computer networking. I really didn’t want to go to the ceremony and listen to someone rattle off names, most of which I’m unfamiliar with, for a couple of hours. I didn’t want to be on a stage in front of people. I didn’t want to wear an itchy, hot, robe and a dress shirt with a strangulation tie in the middle of the Louisiana summer.
I didn’t have a choice, though. “No ceremony, no degree,” they said. Dress code strictly enforced. (The dress code also required women to wear dresses, which I thought was pretty fucked up, too.) Oh well. At least I bought a clip-on tie. It was hideously ugly, but was one of the only ones Wal-Mart had. Plus, at $6.95, it was a pretty good deal. The clip kind of showed on top (boy, I’m all class, eh?) and I could never get it quite straight, but it beat the hell out of a real tie, which I don’t know how to tie anyway. I’ve only had to wear ties twice in my life and my dad tied them both times.
Anyway, yeah. Graduation prayers. That’s what this rant is about. They’re fucking bullshit.
First I had to listen to a girl’s speech thanking Jesus for carrying her through high school and letting her graduate with “a two-year old child and another on the way.” (Pause for thunderous applause from largely Christian audience.) Never mind that it wasn’t Jesus who let her put the dick down long enough to study, but rather her own damn self, but fine, give the credit to someone who died 1950 years before you were born. Whatever. I don’t care.
She went on to say that she “thinks everyone here would agree” and rambled on about the wonder and inspiration of Jesus. Well, no, you blithering fucking idiot, not everyone here does agree. One of us is sitting here vigorously shaking his head “no” as everyone else cheers.
As annoying as that was, though, it was her speech, and, while it may have been ignorant tripe, it wasn’t a prayer. Her assumption bugged the hell out of me, but I don’t think she should have been prevented from merely thanking God and saying stupid shit.
What did bug me, however, was the benediction, the first words of which, of course, were “Let us all bow our heads in prayer.” I didn’t. I wouldn’t. Fuck that. If it made me stand out, oh well. I didn’t care. They were the ones using the First Amendment as toilet paper, not me.
About halfway through the prayer, my mortarboard cap, the inside of which was marked “sure fit,” popped off my head onto my lap. I snatched it up and tried to put it back on, but it popped off again… and again… and again. By this time, the people around me were starting to chuckle.
“‘Sure fit,’ my ass!,” I exclaimed, just loud enough for the gigglers to hear. That changed the giggles to laughs. I smiled. I’d had trouble with the cap at home, so I knew it would probably pop off eventually, but I really couldn’t have picked a better time for it to happen. Maybe God was on my side.