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PROF. DIFFICULTY

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Joy Sun






An accomplished Professor in the field of Problematics in the University of Confusion, known for his grounds-breaking works in the field of Incompletology and Abandonmentology, was scheduled to have a lecture this afternoon with some of his students who had taken an elective in one of his courses titled Confusiology 1001.
The four students were Ignorans, Dumbfound, Impossiblis, and Profear.
All the students were seated when Prof. Difficulty walked in. But he forgot something and went back looking for it. He had told the students to wait, that he’d be back from the tour of looking for this thing.
And after one clear hour of being absent, he was back, and apologized to his quadruple of students, that he was sorry for having been away and not having found what he went for – his lesson notes – and that he however would still proceed with the lecture titled : Confusive Approach 1. Then, pointing to his students, he said: ‘By the way, what is confusion ?’Then Profear stood up and said “it is the ability not to know your way out.” ‘That was a good one. But can we have another trial ?’ Then
Impossiblis stood up and gave and all-time convincing answer that glided the air with an applause. Said he “it is a terrible disaster without order.” ‘That was it’ said Prof. Difficulty ; ‘a very exciting and correct one. Anha ! By the way…’ But Prof. Difficulty seemed to have forgotten something else. And furiously scanning the entire podium, he finally concluded – ‘Gentlemen and ladies, I need the text to give you the definitions of the theorists of Confusion, such as Amikala Dan and Appolonus Winter, and Air Grips.’ He threw his nineteen keys bunch at Impossiblis, who grabbed it and walked away.
At this point, another female student, Incomposure, came into the lecture room, laughing and lifting her hands as if to excuse the old Professor, then walked near. She seemed to have whispered something to his ear as he bent. Then the old professor sprang up and looked at his watch and said ‘oh, it is time, I see’. And motioning to Incomposure said, ‘Just give me fifteen minutes’, then Incomposure walked out. ‘You see, ladies and gentleman, I have to handle another elective in Indeterminology by exactly 2.00pm and I’ll have to leave then : back to basis. But why is Impossiblis not back ? Well, you see, confusion is an endless way. According to the authorities of Appolonium, the gods that gather the air and the sea salt liver [confusion is a graduated sense of disorderliness in the midst of an unsort arrangement or entanglement]. The unsort Grammarian also defines it as [the havangeance of the dark tunellities], Seem Peter Forwell also calls it [Rotting existence],oh for time…But take this lastly, Harmitance calls it [the stick brint palaver].
When I studied in the University of Disordaton, it was not always possible nor accurate to determine anything – sort for spoilt bias. I graduated out of mercy from the said university with dishonor in Confusiology, and have long since been the only surviving graduate from the college, going on doing wonders.
In our days in school, we tried to calculate the volume of vacuum – not as though molecules were created there - but because we dared doing it and got nowhere. Always understand that in confusiology, you go no where. That’s certain.
I recently carried out a Nobel winning Research in the field of Entanglementology – salutsas. In Entangletology, we try to go no where and try to determine the infinitive possiblility of this – corresas. At this point, Dumbfound raised her hand up high. ‘Yes, can you say something young lady?’ “That sounds like what I’ve been experiencing – trying but always earning an F grade, and from what you’re saying, it seems I shouldn’t even try again.” ‘Exactly. You seem to be catching up this concept, but well only get beyond that’ the old Prof. retorted.
Then Prof. Diff. loosened and flung down his suit at one end of the podium, and the entire students ran to pick it - adjusted his cuffs, and raising his hands up – ‘back to basis.’
‘In the next fifteen minutes, I beg your pardon, fifteen minutes rather, we will be carrying out a derivation called ‘Practical No-where Guarrantee’ in Confusive Approach 1. Here we go.’
The rest was a myriad of writings and cleanings but no one seemed to be getting it, except Ignorans, who was furiously nodding fastly her head. She seemed to be the only one comprehending. Or was it not comprehending that was happening, as the old Prof. had said earlier, or could comprehending be not comprehending, or did they need to fake it or make it or forsake it for the sake of what the Professor had said, or was this the emblem of the confusion? What stage could it be if it was, and what stage was it if it was not or what was happening to them? – She was nodding very seriously and copying along very fastly in something close to the speed of sound. But later on, Dumbfound seemed to be catching the joke as well, some form of education not understood, but to be read by men. She too was smiling, ‘yes, I can see just exactly, Prof. I see exactly. It seems not to be clearer than never.’ “But we seem to be missing a parameter called Inco-ordination- healing one hand and causing the sickness the other hand by consumption distribution”, the Prof. said. ‘No, Prof. someone is getting it, Dumbfound- keep on firing, please – the sour salads’.
‘Like I said’, he continued, we’re particularly stuck some where, and like I told you, no one except myself graduated from the University of Disorderton; I did so at the top of my class with Dishonor.’
At this point, he paced forth and backward, stirring into the air. ‘You must not understand anything in Confusiology – the headmasters seem to be skilled as you can see, but as well, you can’t get out of it.’ By now, he was sweating profusedly seriously, so he pulled his shoes and stood on the platform, so he could get some cold current flow from the terrazzo to his brain from the feet – ‘Confusiology could be very terriblest thing; most terrible if there could be a terry bale least. THESE THINGS ARE NOT IN ANY WAY AMOROUS; THE AUTHOR IS ONLY RELAYING HIS FEELINGS ABOUT SOME PERTINENTLY SAND IN EARTH SHOES.’ So, they copied fastly. Then he paused and said ‘I have heard that most of the great men of great times walked barefooted to have their brains cool so as to be able to pierce the thick fogs of confusion – I stand on that position now.’ Then, walking to the board again, he picked a piece of chalk and wrote the following:
Confusion is the perfect disarrangement of the inner atmosphere in disconcordance with the universe.’
Confusion may not exist till one calls it in.
Confusion is perfectly incontrollable; it is a barrage of seventy thousand deep moans. Believe you me!
Confusion is caused by people. Avoid deem ends all the same.
Confusion is a lack of co-ordination arising from fear. There are no mortal fears though, but spirit personalities making effects.
The fruit of fear, which manifests itself in confusion, is ‘no where. Ok?’
Salvation is the re-ordering of confusion. Believe it headway.
‘You can never graduate from confusion’, the old Professor’s voice was getting stuck and softer. ‘We all cause it, dear. Getting stuck was never in the definition of man. We can stop so far…but an assignment for you – a 99 page term paper on the subject: ‘Confusion is the sin-thirstiness of Fair flop, the grand Emperor of Fair floor’. Slipping tiredly and walking away – ‘to be submitted first thing tomorrow by 2:03 am. The dull spirits of Fair floor will mark it and avoid it. It’s good to buy.’

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