Some of you may be acquainted with Professor Bibhuti Bhusan (Bibi) Mohanty. For those that are not: be ashamed and repent, for you are worthy to claim familiarity with such a man. And to those who do know him: you are in the holy presence of unparalleled intellect.
It was quite by accident that I picked up a copy of his magnum opus, ’’Adult Education-- Some Reflections.’’ No, not an accident: an act of kindness by God to reveal my destiny.
It surpasses every work of literature ever created by man. I do not have to have read them to be fully cognizant of such Truth. (Second only to this is his other work, ’’A Handbook of Audio-Visual Aids, ’’ which could best be described as the offspring of Dickinson’s poetry and Joyce’s prose that fulfills Shakespeare’s own failings with a plot Tom Clancy would drool over.)
’’Adult Education--Some Reflections, ’’ more insightful than Freud, more dramatic than all of American cinema, more poetic than the Vedas, more scandalous than Marquis de Sade, tastier than 50-50 biscuits, it is utterly, staggeringly beautiful. It took me 4 years and 5 months to read it in its entirety. It combines the creativity of Dali with the narrative of Danielle Steel and the sensibilities of Confucius. While some fools like Socrates cower in the face of mobs and play humility, Bibi is not afraid to say to the reader, ’’I am so much smarter than you, I know so much more than you can ever dream to.’’ And you, gelatinous quivering uneducated mass, must agree!
For, truly, upon reading (such a pitiful word for what passion consumed me as I torn through the pages) this creation, upon laughing more joyously than even in my life, feeling so vulnerable at Bibi’s words as though he had viewed my secrets before taking up his mighty pen, having my eyes opened to the true meaning of life, upon weeping my very soul into the cheaply printed pages now dearer to my heart than my own children, I have separated myself from contact with the foul men of the west and sought to purify myself in eager anticipation with someday meeting and devoting myself mind, body, and soul, especially body, to Bibi, as the recepticle of his seed so to perpetuate his genetic material. My only regret is that he would be too far an ethical gentleman to allow himself to be cloned. I hope he is not married. I could not stand to have another’s hand caress his cute shiny cranium.