Even the Wall Street Journal smells collapse. For months they have been chanting the dirge “The MBA Is A Relic of the Past.” How dare they impugn the honor of the laborers in the vineyard of spreadsheets, who have taught us all how to outsource every useful job to Outer Uzbekistan! How dare they fail to respect the masters of Excel, Word, and PowerPoint! How dare they fail to tremble in the presence of the denizens of cigar bars!

Well, OK, maybe there are a few too many guys who, despite the name of their degree, could not manage their way out of a paper bag, but in fact spend their days writing reports that no one will ever even read, let alone act upon. But that’s a graduate degree, after all, and makes no claim to provide a basic education in the skills of a civilized person. How about the foundation provided by college?

Even this foundational institution is approaching eclipse. Not content with denigrating the MBA, the evildoers of the popular media are now chanting “Is College Worth It?”

College!

First of all, everyone knows that the main objectives of college, as has been the case for several thousand years, are to drink beer, chase (and catch) members of the opposite sex, and occasionally attend classes. The problem, of course, is that these activities can no longer be pursued using Daddy’s or Uncle Sam’s money; it has now become necessary for collegians to borrow the money to fund these activities, leaving the graduate at the end of his or her college days with a mortgage but no house.

The bubble-meisters are of course weeping, wailing, and gnashing their teeth over the “Student Loan Bubble.” The solution they are now suggesting is: College, phooey! Don’t go! Enter the workforce immediately!

Doing what?

First of all, there are no jobs, unless you want to move to Outer Uzbekistan (see above). Even if you do find a job, what prospects do you have if you are an ignorant slob? Like it or not, even running a modern computerized milling machine is an exercise in mathematics. The kid at the supermarket checkout counter calls his or her manager (college educated) seventy-five times a day to reboot the cash register, which has been transmogrified into an all-knowing computer terminal.

And what do you do in your spare time? Contribute to the decay of civilization by watching WWF Raw? Read Cosmopolitan or (heaven forfend) People Magazine? Drink lite beer?

Hey, that doesn’t sound too bad.