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Doctor Ashton Kutcher, PhD, tenured professor of Real Physics, was wearing his corduroy jacket and his Coke bottle glasses because he was a real professor, a real smart professor. He leaned back in his chair which was old and wood and creaky but also surprisingly comfortable, and was Walt Whitman’s chair before he died, and looked at all of the books on his bookshelves, each of which was very long, and he’d read all of them from beginning to end and knew what they meant and had a photographic memory. Science. The leather patches on Ashton’s corduroy blazer were on the elbows, because it was a regulation blazer. A cup of tea steamed at the corner of his tea-stained desk blotter. Novelty size bust of Freud with all kinds of pens and pencils sticking out of the top, also being used as a paperweight to hold down the latest draft of his report that he was going to submit to all the best journals. Yes, a real professor, this one. Noises from “the quad” filtered up through the casement windows. “Ah, important learning,” professor Kutcher sighed, thoughtfully, which was how he did everything, with great thought. “I love ideas!”
A student knocked sheepishly against the pebbled glass of his office door. “Come in, son! Come in, scholar!” professor Kutcher chortled wryly.
The college student sat down in a chair facing professor Kutcher and rubbed his palms against the legs of his jeans. College students often had very sweaty palms, either because they were nervous, or hormones, or both. At least, that was what professor Kutcher had noticed, and written his thesis on. Professor Kutcher folded his hands across the buttoned folds of his cardigan (under the blazer, classic professor gear) and looked deeply into the student’s eyes. How wonderful it would be to be able to impart knowledge simply by gazing into another’s eyes. ALAS! The student seemed nervous to begin the conversation, so professor Kutcher smiled gently at him.
“What can I do for you, Nathan? Is it about the exam? Or your grades? Perhaps there is a complicated theorem that you are stuck on? You know, when I was your age, I used to write math problems on the window with a white grease pencil. Have you tried that? You might find that it helps. I’m a real professor. I’m very smart.”
Nathan stared at his shoes for a moment and then mumbled his question. Professor Kutcher cupped his hand to his ear and leaned forward over his desk.
“What’s that, son? Speak up! Go on, make yourself heard!”
“What’s Jessica Simpson like?”
Professor Kutcher leaned back, puzzled.
“You know, from that stupid movie you were in. Going to Vegas or something?”
Professor Kutcher nodded, trying to help his young ward work his own way through the problem. He didn’t like forcing information on his students, better that they arrive at their own conclusions through their own logical processes. “I believe you’re thinking of the movie What Stayyyyyyyyy” he waited for Nathan to finish.
“Oh right,” Nathan let loose with nervous laughter. “What Happens in Vegas. Haha. Sorry, Professor. But, so, what was she like? Jessica Simpson I mean.”
“Jessica Simpson wasn’t in What Happens in Vegas, Nathan.”
“Hmm,” Nathan said. He was going to worry a hole in the thighs of his jeans. “Are you sure? I’m pretty sure she was in that. It was really stupid. I watched half of it on cable and then turned it off, and you know, college kids will watch pretty much anything, so it must have been pretty bad.”
“Quite certain, my dear boy. But let’s think this thing through. Jessica Simpson has only been in four movies: The Dukes of Hazzard, where she made her big screen debut. Employee of the Month with Dane Cook and Dax Shepard. And Blonde Ambition and Major Movie Star, both of which were direct to DVD.”
Nathan furrowed his brow. Professor Kutcher waited patiently as Nathan tried to puzzle the thing out. Finally, he decided to give a little nudge.
“Who is another actress, Nathan, not Jessica Simpson, although also blonde, mostly, who has been in quite a few more than four movies. I’m sure you know her name, Nathan. You can get there. She’s a little older than Jessica Simpson, and if you were to think of the two of us together in a romantic comedy you would insist that we couldn’t possibly have any chemistry together.”
“Cameron Diaz!”
“You’ve struck upon it!”
“What’s she like?”
“She’s nice. I don’t know. We mostly made small talk. We’re both VERY stupid.”
“Thanks, Professor.”
Nathan stood up and left, making way for the next student, who would spend 20 minutes asking Professor Kutcher questions about the Director’s Cut ending of Butterfly Effect in which Ashton Kutcher’s character went back to his mother’s womb and choked himself to death with his own umbilical cord. The whole reason Ashton Kutcher got into teaching in the first place was with the idea that if he could just change one young person’s life for the better, it would all be worth it. And when that day finally came, it was going to be great.
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After office hours, Professor Kutcher and his students put on their bear hats and play Kronum.
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Get of the computer, Mrs. Simpson.
“Off”! I mean “off”! Don’t take points away for that, Prof. Kutcher! I promise to proofread it again!
Nathan forgot to ask Dr, Kutcher where he gets his ideas from, that’s not how you get an A+ Nathan
It’s not like it was a panel discussion.
“Now allow me to explain the intricacies of Kathrin Heigl’s Uncertainty Principle” – Professor Kutcher
It must be tough learning from a professor who treats “Dude, where’s my car?” as an essay question.
“Dude, where’s my car?” is actually a topics study philosophy course he teaches.
My essay on “Dude, Where’s My Car” covered the following topics:
-How Henry Ford’s use of the assembly line changed the American manufacturing industry;
-The impact of the affordable family car on the growth of both highway systems and suburbs, and what that meant for American society and the environment;
-How our reliance on petroleum for transportation has shaped American foreign policy.
I got an A- (I forgot to use APA style so was docked a few points)
What car?
The car is a metaphor for the Self.
It’s the central thesis to his epistemology investigations.
“Dude, Where’s My Car?” Indeed! Where IS my car? Where is ANYTHING? And how can we be sure when we’ve found it? Though I’ve found A car, how can I know that it’s truly my car, and not an exactly replica of a car created by some kind of giant alien woman for the purpose of destroying the universe?
This reveals that the essential question of philosophy is not where is my car, but why is my car, and that is what we will be discussing this semester.
“Dude, where’s Schroedinger’s car?”
“Duuuuude…”
Students were lining up around the block to be admitted into Prof. Kutcher’s next thrilling lecture series, “Advanced Theories of The Butterfly Effect and Why It Sucks So Much”.
Lay off, you guys. He was great in Point Break.
This is sort of what my office hours are like when I teach. Except students never come to my office hours.
Yeah. They come by when they need a form signed but otherwise almost all my communication with them is via e-mail. Office hours are SO 20th century.
‘YOU JUST GOT PUNK’D!!!!!!!” – Ashton Kutcher to the people of Earth (please?)
(P.S: Since when was it Kutcher? Wasn’t it once Kutchner? Did he PUNK me?????)
Delahaye’s Certainty Principle: “And, of course, That ’70s Show remains popular in syndication.”
Nathan asked one question, “Hey, what’s up with Topher Grace?”
“Professor Kutcher, how do you come up with such awesome pranks for your show? I just love pranks so much and want to know all about them so I can be a prankster myself.” – Gabe, 4:00 AM
Am I the only one who saw Freud mentioned and proceeded to misread “pens” as “penis”?
Nope, and i only questioned it when i misread “pencils” as “penises” and thought, “why would he have penis and penises in his… ohwhatthefuck”
Professor Kutcher sat at his desk after class. He took a sip from his can of Coke, paused, then took another, smaller sip. He sat the can on his desk, tilting it slightly so it rested on its bottom edge. He slowly removed his hand. The can wobbled for a split second, then remained balanced on its edge at a 45 degree angle.
“Physics,” he said to himself.
He’s no Albert Ashton.
Prof. Kutchers publication of choice:
Is that Dan O’Brian?
It is. This is from Cracked. READ HIS ARTICLES.
Haha thats funny. I love reading his articles. Are you talking about the cracked magazine? That guys hilarious!! My mom even thinks he’s funny, and she doesn’t own a computer yet!!
You just outed yourself, O’Brian.
So Richard Blais wins Top Chef: All Stars and now Gabe is too good to write recaps of Top Chef: Masters. I guess I’ll just have to imagine all the funny things he would’ve said about it.
Turns out Gabe’s not as funny when I’m Gabe (what?).
Professor Kutcher always flipped his chair around, leaning forward on where one’s back would normally be. He always flipped his cap around, kids liked things backwards.
“Rap with me” he would say to each student.
Oh god, I’m so glad the Puma ads are gone. That woman looked so much like my wife that I was starting to get jealous.
“Scoring with whom? Because you sure as shit aren’t scoring with my wife, random dude who is paying absolutely no attention to my wife’s doppelganger.”
Prof. Kutcher on Camera :
Looks at the pen, opens case, sees if anyone is looking at him, sets down, picks it up again, moves it a little, lifts pen out of case, puts it in his nice blazer that he has on, and sets case back down.
Looks up to see if anyone notices if case is moved, slides water over some. Puts case back down as if nothing happens.
Next day: Makes nationwide news, including over in Russia where they speak other languages with symbols.
He retires from teaching early. End his acting career…… Says sorry there will never ever be a SPREAD || : Return of the water…..