Everyday, as I take the exams, I am reminded of what its like to be doomed. Being in year 2, most of my papers are at the ridiculous 5pm timeslot. So I get the whole day to do a final revision, and my own countdown.
Actually, I can't really be bothered to do a final revision. At this point, you either know or you don't. Cramming more stuff into an already overloaded system just induces indigestion and diarrhoea. For all you people wondering just how you spell that word, here it is. Diarrhoea. Yes the word looks as disgusting as what it stands for. A match made in heaven. There is a reason why diarrhoea isn't spelled "candyfloss."
However, I'm not surprised that most people will not agree with me. They will claim that last minute revision does wonders, that I'm just trying to sabotage their grades by telling them to slack off when it matters most. My logic is, most people do last minute revision because that's about the only revision they've done. In other words, the last minute revision IS the revision.
Sounds familiar?
All my life I've been taught how to assimilate information, puke it out in an exam hall, and forget it all 3 days later. That's what people call an education. I would like to ask these educators then, how many times do you need me to show you I can memorise and regurgitate before you're convinced enough to print that degree transcript for me? I wonder if it comes with ISO 9001 certification, because it should. Even industrial processes would struggle to match the professionalism and excellence exhibited by some of our best regurgitators.
And all this is so I can find a job that doesn't use what I've "learnt". It makes me feel quite sad, because my intellectual peak is long behind me. That day was the day the A levels ended, when I still had 2 years worth of learning for 5 different subjects. I am ashamed to say now that I graduated with an A level cert, because if you throw me any A level question, I probably can't do it.
What I can do for you is, write you an academic paper no one will read, tell you uninteresting facts about dead old men you don't need to know, and memorise your grocery list so I can read it back out to you in the supermarket.
Oh thank goodness, there is some use in our education after all!