Roughly 38,153 people are going to be pretty upset at Harvard in a few weeks.

Harvard University announced that 40,246 students have applied this selection cycle.

According to the school's newspaper, The Harvard Crimson, it's the fewest applicants in three years. So far, the school has already accepted 825 students in December as part of the "Early Action" program, while "Regular Decision" students will learn their fate on March 26th.

An estimated 5.2% of students gain admittance each year. Using some quick math, that means a total of 2,093 will receive their golden ticket for life.

Don't feel too badly for the remaining 38,153 who find themselves rejected. I'm sure many will make do with the plebeian masses at Yale or Princeton or--dare say--even Columbia.

Speaking of Patterson, Bill O'Reilly is no longer a collaborator on children's books.

Last November, for reasons that probably have physicists, psychologists, and spiritual leaders the world over still trying to figure out, James Patterson released a children's book with former Fox News lothario Bill O'Reilly.

Titled Give Please a Chance, it focuses on one of Patterson's pet peeves: manners.

Yet, for the upcoming October 2017 release of Patterson's next book about good behavior, Give Thank You a Try, Patterson has gone it alone.

[[[GASP]]]

That's right. We're in the dawn of a new era. James Patterson actually managed to write a short story (albeit for kids) completely on his own. I know global warming is affecting weather patterns, but hell might have just frozen over as well.

The other significant matter is why Bill O'Reilly is missing from Give Thanks a Try. Was it because of the scandalous reports that got him fired from Fox News? Does O'Reilly have an aversion to graciousness and saying "thanks"? What's the story here?

The Washington Post reached out to Patterson, who refused to comment.

But when declining, did he politely say thanks?

J.K. Rowling shares some rejection letters--after she already was published.

Harry Potter author J,K, Rowling released on Twitter two rejection letters she received from publishing houses--after she had already created the world of Hogwart's and wizardry.

The only catch? She wrote under a pseudonym: Robert Galbraith.

The novel was Rowling's second adult book, The Cuckoo's Calling, which was released in 2013 under the fake name. The letters being made public were in response to a fan's Twitter question if there were any rejection letters Rowling would like to share regarding Harry Potter. Rowling claimed those were in a box in the attic (sure, right), but she had others--the Robert Galbraith letters.

One publishing house, Constable & Robinson, wrote Rowling at the time that the business "could not publish [Cuckoo's Calling] with commercial success." As if being rejected wasn't bad enough, Constable & Robinson tell 'Galbraith' that maybe "a writers' group or writing course may help" with feedback. That's right. Go back to school for a course. That's the equivalent of an intellectual backhand, full of knuckles and dismissiveness.

"I wasn't going to give up until every single publisher turned me down, but I often feared that would happen," Rowling explained.

The joke was on Constable & Robinson and other varying publishing houses, as the book was eventually accepted by Sphere, an imprint of Little, Brown, & Company. Once the world knew it was Rowling and not Galbraith writing the book, it went from the 4,709th bestselling book on Amazon to number one, as well as spawned two sequels.

As for Constable & Robinson, the reason they aren't a super commercial success and J.K. Rowling is is because Constable & Robinson is run by...Constable & Robinson.

Maybe there's a publishing course they can take that might help.

Applying to college? Are you an "L-B-B" or maybe an "R-J"?

It's that time of year when colleges and universities are beginning to comb through applications for the coming fall semester.

Combing is a bit more precise than it is in reality. So how do schools really decide whom to accept and whom to reject?

Well, according to NPR, there's no universal rhyme or reason. NPR sat in at a small conference room at the College of Holy Cross (where all the students rejected from Boston College end up) while an admissions team of three looked over a small sampling of 23 applicants already narrowed down from a larger pool. This admissions team gave each student's application roughly two minutes before making a decision.

And how does Holy Cross motor through those 23 applicants? With acronyms. Per NPR:


They'll spend about two minutes on each before deciding whether to accept or deny admission, or place the application on hold.

To speed things along, the committee uses a lot of jargon, like "L-B-B" for late blooming boy, and "R-J" for rejection.

If it sounds like they're cutting corners, know that before the committee meets around the table, each application gets a close look from two of the members.


Yes, because "rejection" with 3 syllables is so much wordier than "R-J" and its 2 syllables.

Of course, there's no specifics about how close a "close look" actually might be. That's part of the mystery of it all. A close look could be three minutes! That's 50% longer than the two minute examination!

Remember that years from now when your former college is looking for a donation.

So, in essence, colleges are stalking you and you're lying to them.

The New York Times reports that colleges and universities have stepped up their game to stalk prospective students' Facebook, Twitter, and social media profiles--and are using that information in their application decision making.

In response, students say they're manipulating their online presence to portray a positive presentation (in hopes of being accepted to college!), while maintaining a secondary social media presence with false names, so they can be themselves (in hopes of being nasty to that fellow high schooler killing their popularity!).

It's a weird courting ritual filled with obsession and lies.

It's like The Bachelor, but with fewer roses.

Man finds 106-year old message in a bottle, refuses to open it.

Steve Thurber was walking along a beach in Tofino, British Columbia, when he stumbled upon a green bottle sealed with a letter inside. The letter, slightly unfurled within said bottle, has a date of September 29, 1906, signed by an Earl Willard, who was sailing from San Francisco, California, to Bellingham, Washington--and that's the extent of the clues of the message inside.

Records show the oldest message in a bottle ever found is from 1914--which Thurber's bottle would best by eight years--but Thurber has no desire to open the bottle and read the letter. Nope. None. The letter remains in the bottle, unread and unloved.

Why? As he told Global News, "I guess it is a chance thing that you find something that somebody sent out into the water. I mean, even if it was a year later or ten years later, but a hundred years later is just unreal."

I think Thurber is kind of missing out on a couple of points here:

1.) The act: Earl Willard threw a bottle into a ocean with a letter inside, hoping some day someone would find the bottle and read the letter.

2.) The letter: A letter's only purpose is to be read. To not read a letter negates a letter's entire purpose and existence.

So a hat-tip to Steve Thurber for taking a stand and killing Earl Willard's 106-year old dream! Nicely done!*




*Sarcasm

Donald Trump wants to buy the New York Times.

HA.

See, it's funny because it's ridiculous.

Taylor Swift gives the shaft to a school of deaf kids.

For weeks now, Taylor Swift has been holding a contest among schools--all schools--for her to hold a concert.

During the entire duration of the contest, the Horace Mann School for the Deaf led in total votes. Sure, this was largely created out of a groundswell of funny-ha-ha people at Reddit and 4Chan. But a contest is a contest, and the Horace Mann School won the contest going away. Even the principal at Horace Mann said he was happy to have Taylor visit and play a concert at his school.

Well, Taylor doesn't find it funny, nor does she like deaf children apparently, because she's shafting the Horace Mann School and visiting the runner-up school, Harvey Mudd College.

Mind you, the rules don't state where the votes must come from. Nowhere does it say the votes must come from the school itself. Hence, this is where the groundswell for Horace Mann comes in.

Oh, don't worry though--Taylor sees a PR nightmare way before you do, so she's donating $50,000 cash and $10,000 in musical instruments to the Horace Mann School in hopes you don't hate her for ignoring special needs kids.

$10,000 in musical instruments to deaf kids. That's like giving blind people an array of Rembrandts to look at and claiming you're dedicated to those with a lack of sight.




Oh, in case you're wondering how fair Harvey Mudd College's voting was--the school has 771 full-time students, yet somehow generated tens of thousands of votes that were all on the up-and-up according to Swift's management team. Riiiiight.

HAVE A GOOD DAY!

I don't cry from greeting cards or get choked up on Youtube videos of puppies. But I do have a soft spot for Charles Kuralt. (Aww, pudgy, dead guys! You could just squeeze their cheeks!)

It's been months since I went down Nostalgia Highway with Chuck, so let's revisit. In case you forgot, Kuralt was a photo-essayist, known for his folksy demeanor that looked at the kinder, contemplative side of life.

Or, in this case, looking at Joseph Charles, a gentleman from Berkeley, CA, who waved to people every morning for over 30 years, wishing them a good day:

Looks like the moody lady at the 2:15 mark is thisclose to doing a one finger salute. Pretty sweet looking helmet though.

California college professor walks out of class when students don't supply snacks.

George Parrot is a professor, and he has priorities. Teaching is his second priority. Snacktime is his first.

George is a psych professor at Cal State, Sacremento--the northern California doppelganger of Fitchburg State. As part of his requirements, students take turns supplying snacks to the entire lecture hall. No snacks = no George. He walks out and refuses to teach--which is what he did to a class recently when no snacks were supplied.

Not just any snacks, too. George wants fruit and veggie platters or homemade baked goods. Nabisco products and pre-packaged products might warrant him leaving class, according to his syllabus.

On the plus side, George says he does this because...
1.) It creates team building. (Meaning everyone hates the kid who brought the baby carrot snack platter.)
2.) It stops students from being sleepy in class. (Sugar rush!!!! Wooooo!!!!)
3.) He doesn't require a $200 textbook.

No $200 textbook sounds appealing...until you spend $300 on a veggie plate from Whole Foods. I bet you need hummus or some french onion dip, too. Maybe a nice cheese spread. Probably some drinks, napkins, plates, too.

Sounds like George has Harvard tastes on a Cal Sate budget.

France bans ketchup in school and college cafeterias.

In an effort to show they're not down with love handles and early-onset heart attacks, France has banned ketchup in academic cafeterias, including at colleges and universities. Their reasoning is that it's packed with sugar and really not worth the potential headaches.

According to Jacques (you just knew he had to be named Jacques) Hazan, president of the Federation of School Something-or-Another in France, "We can't have children eating any old thing."

Thankfully, France still allows all kindergarteners two fifteen minute smoke breaks per day.

Philip Levine was named poet laureate of the United States.

A worthy honor, no doubt.

But let's look at comments from average Americans left at the bottom of the AP news story (typos all their own):

Says a guy named Jim from Wisconsin:
Why is this a paid position? In fact why do we need some dude being the national poet? The position was created in a time when the Art & Culture events were not widely available. We have thousands of poets every day blasting through the Ipods and MP3's. Time to retire this position in the name of cost cutting. If I want a left wing poet, I toss on some Bob Dylan or Neil Young. If I am in a right wing mood, out comes the Ted Nugent with a little Cat Scratch Fever poetry. If I am in the party wing mode out comes the AC/DC poetry.

That's right. The Ipods.


Says a guy nicknamed Geomonster:
A poet laureate? This administration would have done better with a Fairy tale laureate.No matter the political party,why in the world do we need a Poet laureate in the first place?Give me a break, a poet laureate!.What exactly does a poet laureate do for 35 grand a year?.Does he hop out of bed in the morning and get right down to the serious business of writing poetry?
OOOH,I better write some good poetry(if there is such a thing) today or the president will fire me.
Not one second should be spent on lunacy like this while the country is on the verge of bankruptcy.

Or maybe we just need a poet laureate to remind people posting comments on online news stories not to use periods after a question mark or exclamation points.

Professor Robert Kasmir is a very literal heckler.

George Washington University accounting professor Robert Kasmir was honored at halftime of a recent school basketball game for his financial contributions to the university.

After halftime, Kasmir apparently decided to shun every stereotype of professorhood and got himself thrown out of the arena by the referee.

According to the Washington Post, Kasmir didn't like a foul call against a George Washington player, and really let the ref have it. Cover your kiddies' ears, because this professor is a live wire:

     "Basically, I told the ref he was the worst ref I'd ever seen and he wasn't worth
     the $1,600 dollars they were paying him and that was it," Kasmir said. "And then
     he ejected me from the game....I think the official should never be allowed to officiate
     another game in the Atlantic 10, in college basketball, in the United States."

Ooooh, snap! That's grade-A trash talking right there. If Kasmir keeps this up, he might mock the ref's putrid 401(k) and lack of a diversified investment portfolio, too.

Sign language? That's mano a mano.

Often I'm accused of not knowing half of the things coming out of my mouth when I talk. Not so. I'm just naturally this lovable.

But Reader's Digest is pretty certain all of us are pretty lost on everyday speech. They have a list (never shall an arbitrary list pass my judgment unseen on here) of 24 Things You Might Be Saying Wrong. The fact they say "you might" suggests they're not even sure themselves.


Some of the 24 things:


1.) Saying Could care less
     When you mean Couldn't care less.

Well, maybe I could care less. Do I care that there is another Twilight movie coming out eventually? No. But could I care less? Maybe. Give me a second to think about it.

...

Yup, I could care less. I realized there was a smidge inside me that cared. In a few minutes I'll have cared less.

2.) Saying  mano a mano
     When you mean man-to-man

Apparently adding vowels to English words doesn't make them suddenly turn Spanish. This is a huge blow to your drunken Uncle Frank and his yearly stereotyping of Spaniards at Christmas dinner.

Mano means "hand" in Spanish. You've been telling people you want to talk hand-to-hand, kind of like in a Bruce Lee movie, minus the bloodshed and karate chops to the neck.

Now, granted, you might be suggesting to someone you want to reenact scenes from Enter the Dragon. But there's just a good chance they want to talk though.

3.) Saying Try and
     When you mean Try to

The issue? This is wrong:
"Uncle Frank is going to try and make rude jokes."

What's correct?
"Uncle Frank is going to try to make rude jokes."

But what Reader's Digest doesn't realize is that maybe Uncle Frank wants to accomplish two things. Maybe he wants "to try" rude jokes as well as "make" rude jokes. In which case, not only is Uncle Frank very stubborn, but he's single-handedly shaming the English language in a wide variety of ways.

4.) Saying Supposably
     When you mean Supposedly.

Reader's Digest says:
Supposably is, in fact, a word—it means "conceivably"—but not the one you want if you're trying to say "it's assumed," and certainly not the one you want if you're on a first date with an English major or a job interview with an English speaker.

As an English major myself, I've savagely mocked my first dates for the most imperceptible of differences in words.

You say you have a lisp, eh?

5.) Saying Beg the question
     When you mean Raise the question

Now this is just English acting snooty. It's stuff like this that makes math people hate us.

Quibble No.2: Facebook Follies

((pretend there's a photo here, a friend posing with me, a friend we'll call Pepper))

The caption should say:

Pepper and I

or

Me and Pepper / Pepper and me

?

It's me, not I.

Really.

But everyone says--

No. It's me, not I.

At least when it comes to photos or when I'm breaking up with you.

"Not favorable"? What--am I dealing with Roger Ebert here?

I've posted a few accounts of the easy (or difficult), simple (or tortuous), and cheap (haha..ha......ha) grad school application process.

Now, the letters of acceptance/rejection have arrived from various schools.

But let's not be weepy on the rejections. Life's too short. Alas, it's not short enough to write a blog entry about it.

First up: Boston University!

Rejection letter: In five sentences, someone named Rebekah Alexander whispers sweet nothings to me. And by sweet nothings I mean she says "nothing" is offered by BU in as sweet a way as possible.

Here is her entire letter in full, with my notes in the parentheses:

Dear Mr. Cuff: (a colon instead of a comma is never a good sign)

The Committee on Admissions has carefully reviewed (thank God--I was worried they'd be nonchalant about it) your application for admission to the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences. I am sorry to inform you (sounds like I'm getting medical tests back) that your application has not been approved. (Rejected. "Rejected"--it's okay to say the word. Otherwise it sounds like I've been denied a credit card.)

The number of people we can admit each year for graduate study is quite limited. (Limited amounts of actual people? But thanks to Twilight, vampire admissions are at an all-time high.) Unfortunately (she seems really broken up about this), because of intense competition (alright, I get it, I'll slip you a $20), we must in many instances deny admission (reject--it's okay to say the word, really) even to highly qualified candidates. (Might I change your mind if I told you I was only moderately qualified? It's worked for former presidents of the United States.)

We appreciate your interest in Boston University (and to think, I would have bought you dinner) and regret (hey, no regrets--just go ahead and accept me and we'll pretend this letter didn't happen) that the decision on your application was not favorable.

("...was a huge thumbs down.")
("...was changed from favorable to not favorable after Charles Schwab said your stock price was overinflated.")
("...was runny and lacked a touch of sea salt and oregano.")
("...was, gotta say, not too pleasant.")
("...was a little less than enthusiastic because Dancing with the Stars came on the tv in the office and we all got a little distracted.")
("...was favorable, but then we realized your application was stuck to some guy's from a private school. So, we made sure to accept him, and then we sent you this lovely letter.")

Sincerely, (well, at least they're sincere in their rejection)
Rebekah Alexander

She did actually sign it. Or at least had some assistant fake it. So, that's a personal touch. I do appreciate that.

Really now, did Boston University get sued by a disgruntled former applicant because they once used the word "rejected"? It's okay, BU--you can use the word. I'm a big boy. More than that, I'm an English major. My brain kind of works like a thesaurus, so I sort of notice when you're beating around the bush using euphemisms.

Now, Boston University, here's some basic advice for future rejections to grad school applicants:

1.) Use the word "rejection."

2.) Can't use the word "rejection"? Why not sass the letter up? See, not all applicants you reject will be as jovial as me. So, why not be creative. Try these various words in a variety of ways when rejecting people:

rebuffed        (for white collar applicants)

abandoned    (like a puppy!)

denied           (sounds like a verbal slap)

dropped        (for people who work for Verizon Wireless or AT&T)

forsaken       (for the religious applicants)

jilted             (sort of like a blushing bride)

refused         (kind of like a parent telling a child no)

shunned        (for any lepers that might apply)

disown          (to be used when BU undergrad applicants apply)

renounce      (for when your own children apply)

cast aside     (when you want to put a little visual action into your rejection letters)

discarded     (don't use when Earthy, recycling-types apply)

eliminated    (for when the Terminator applies)

As a side note, they CCed the letter to the English Department, as apparently the English Department can't be bothered. Really--that's like asking out someone to the prom, and then having their parents call you to say no. 

Thankfully, I didn't rent a limo or a tux just yet. It's their loss, though. I look pretty good in a bow-tie.