For years it rained vagina on chemistry
professor Jeffrey Beach, but with recent grade inflation, his students no longer exchange sex for better grades.
"When I joined this faculty in the 80s, the Chemistry Department was legendary for its trade in sex-for-grades. On Day One, I went to my office,
flipped on the lights, and saw four naked people in the shape of a water molecule," explained Beach. "I wasn't sure if it was beautiful," he added, "but I was sure that it felt right."
No longer able to release the sexual
energies deep in his loins, Beach's sexual frustration has begun to show in his work.. He has published a series of papers on the theoretical and physical possibility of Love Potion #9. In the classroom, students have witnessed Beach putting two hydrogen bonds together
in a slow, haunting manner.
"It's weird, and I'm not comfortable
raising my hand in class," said one student.
The sex-for-grades revolution began
in the "Heavy Petting" 60s, when the average grade was a 3.0 and syphilis
was a specter on the high school horizon. Eager students would wear flowers in their lapels and be up for any sort of sexual adventure, with or without the Rolling Stones playing softly in the background.
That era was followed by the "Mostly Petting" 70s, and by the "Guess what? We're still Petting" 80s. Professors saw increased demand for sex as average GPAs fell to 2.4.
But the 90s saw a meteoric rise in GPAs without the aid of sexual favors. Some, unable to cope with the loss, transferred to Vassar.
With decreasing demand came increasing competition among faculty for the most attractive students. At its peak, the anthropology departments recruited students with offers for free monkeys.
"We lost a lot of good monkeys," said Professor Wilfred Niles, Hopkins Professor of Biological Anthropology, looking wistfully at the now-empty cages outside his window. "I can almost
feel Bo Bo's feces on my face again. I just hope he's happy in my student's
backpack, or wherever he is."
"Women, grades, chemistry, it's all the same," muttered Beach, absentmindedly
fondling his model of glucose.
"I hate them all."
Beach's office hours are Wednesdays
3-5pm in Mallinckrodt 307.
