About 30,000 people got smarter this week. I'm referring, of course, to all the BYU students who fled campus to avoid the onslaught of Education Weekers, none of whom know where they're going and all of whom walk slow.
Education Week is a time for Latter-day Saints to come together and find answers to such important spiritual questions as, "Could you tell me where the ballroom is?" and "Where the fetch am I supposed to park? Freakin' Timbuktu?"
Dozens of classes are offered on a wide variety of subjects that relate to Mormonism and the Mormon experience. It's impossible to attend them all; here are a few from the catalog that you might have missed.
"Two Wrongs Make a Right: Using J. Golden Kimball as an Excuse to Swear." Elder Kimball, or "the Swearing Apostle," best known for his colorful language and for the hundreds of stories about him, approximately 1/80,000th of which are true, is also an example to all Latter-day Saints who desire justification for their own potty mouths. ("If a man who swears can be a general authority, then swearing must not be so bad.") The class also teaches of lesser-known sinful figures in LDS history, such as Orson J. Jensen, "the Shoplifting Apostle"; and LaVerl Christensen, "the Seventy Who Always Broke the Speed Limit."
"I've Told You a Thousand Times: Exaggeration in Mormon Living." Learn classics like, "Movies that are being rated 'G' today would have been rated 'R' 20 years ago" and "If an employer has to choose between an Eagle Scout and a non-Eagle Scout, he'll hire the Eagle Scout." The class teaches that documentation is unnecessary, as long as you state your position authoritatively.
"The Un-Calling: How to Write So That People Will Think You're a General Authority." Focuses on using just the right terminology and line of thinking to get yourself quoted in sacrament meeting more often than the scriptures, and to have people everywhere referring to you as "Elder" or "Sister," even though you're not a general authority and never claimed to be. Team-taught by Stephen E. Robinson and that "Work and the Glory" guy.
"It Seemed So Real: Letting Your Dreams Help You Sound Like a Crackpot." Nothing spices up a Sunday School class like someone telling about a weird dream they had, especially if it contradicts existing doctrine. Are you a visionary, or just a wack-job? Leave that for the class to decide!
Other Education Week classes being offered: "No Cheerios in the Chapel: The Lesser-Known Teachings of the Living Prophets," "Jello Salad: How Much Fruit is Too Much?," "An Outcast in My Own Ward: What If I Don't Care About BYU Sports?" and "The Colon: Our Favorite Item of Punctuation."
Copyright © Eric D. Snider.
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Comments & Reaction:
My first official "Snide Remarks" column for The Daily Herald! And it's hopelessly insular: If you're not Mormon, you won't get a single joke in this column. Sorry.
One of my favorite things about J. Golden Kimball is that people call him "the Swearing Apostle," despite the fact that he was never an Apostle. He was a Seventy. There's a huge difference, as any Mormon can tell you; to you non-Mormons, it's approximately the same as the difference between the President of the United States and the governor of North Dakota.
By the way, "that 'Work and the Glory' guy," Gerald Lund eventually DID become a general authority.
And another thing: The bit about citing crazy dreams in Sunday School class is reminiscent of something I wrote for a Daily Universe "Snide Remarks" column -- a column that never got published, in large part because of jokes like that.
Education Week truly is a grand event, where about 30,000 Mormons from all over the world descend on BYU campus (school is not in session then) to take classes on a huge range of subjects. Seriously, there's everything from homemaking tips to interpreting Isaiah in the Old Testament. There are classes for teens, too. My parents and a few of my siblings go every year, and they love it. The classes, from what I understand, are generally both informative and enjoyable, which seems like an odd combination.
This column upset people, which is not hard to do in Utah County. I don't know the details; all I know is the editor liked it, but he warned me not to walk through the Circulation Department for a few days, because they were none too pleased with me. I guess people were canceling subscriptions, or threatening to, anyway.
In the meantime, though, about 30 "Snide Remarks" fans sent the editor e-mails, expressing great delight in the reappearance of the column. I was very grateful for that.
The column ran on a Friday; in Monday's mail came this hand-written letter:
My first official angry letter from someone who doesn't like humor, in response to my first official Daily Herald "Snide Remarks." I was pleased to receive it.