A Not-so-Humble Valedictorian Speech

ALONG THESE LINES –  Nick Thomas

As the school year draws to a close, high school valedictorians across the country are industriously preparing speeches filled with humility and generous praise for others. But in reality, these brainiacs secretly harbor the desire to tell the world what they really thought about their classmates and teachers.

Ladies and gentlemen, Principal Payne, tiresome teachers, paranoid parents, my fellow students and their parole officers:

The school year has now mercifully concluded. To all my illiterate classmates who entered 12th grade (again) this year, I congratulate you on the miracle of your pending graduation despite your unwavering academic mediocrity.

Throughout the year, while most of you were vanquishing imaginary foes on your computer screens, I devoted my days to study. As a result, I will soon commence my Ph.D. in astrophysics at a top Ivy League college where I will be posing questions to probe the origin of the universe; you, however, are destined to become proficient at asking the question:  “Paper or plastic, Ma’am?”

Let me first address all you football jocks whose collective IQ is smaller than my class ring size. While you were on the field practicing for a life-time of head and spinal injuries, I began a venture capital company from the library computer and made a fortune quicker than your coach could scream “torn rotator cuff.”

And while the rest of you were either cheerleading or boozing at post-game celebrations, I was dazzling the national Mathematics Association by quietly solving the square root of negative one.

Speaking of math, many of you emailed me throughout the year for homework assistance; but despite my best efforts, I soon realized the futility. I mean, how can you help people who think a complex number is anything greater than 9?

Another highlight for me was Economics class, where I received the school’s competitive and highly coveted Madoff Prize for my essay, “A History of Pyramid Schemes.” But I had no sympathy for those of you who stole my topic and flunked because you focused your discussion on Egyptology. In all honesty, I believe most of you failed to grasp any of the fundamental course concepts, and wasted far too much time swapping baseball hats after that class on Cap-and-Trade strategies.

Our teachers have also learned much from me this year. Mr. Epstein-Barr, the soccer coach and physics teacher, now has a better understanding of quantum mechanics and no longer embarrasses himself by using inappropriate terms such as Schrödinger’s Ketchup, walking the Planck Constant, or the Big Bangs Theory of hairdressing.

Since my talents also extended to the Arts, I feel obliged to mention that the music director was especially impressed when I suggested introducing the concert harp to the school band. I should like to acknowledge little Abby Smith who marched with her instrument during half-time at the homecoming game.  Although the hernia and collapsed lung were regrettable, I understand she finishes physical therapy soon and is looking forward to completing 12th grade next year.

I also recall the brief battle of wits I had with Mr. Beerwolf, our philosophy teacher. During the first day of class, he was unimpressed when I told him how I had named our Jack Russell terrier, Bertrand, when I was just 5 years old.

“You are arrogant and a nobody,” he snapped at me, to which I promptly retorted: “Nobody is perfect; therefore, I am perfect.” Embarrassed by his inability to counter my philosophic logic, he promptly retired. While I was happy to lead the class for the remainder of the semester, I found it challenging to convince the rest of you that Plato was not modeling clay.

Finally, let me say that aside from knowing all of you, my main disappointment this year was failing to become class president. At first this stunned me, because I had pledged an exciting visit to the New York Stock Exchange for our senior trip, rather than that tedious Caribbean cruise the rest of you eventually took.

However, I was not surprised that Harry Thistlewaite was elected instead. After all, he did make promises that were impossible to keep, distorted the truth, and fabricated a collection of fallacious stories about his abilities and competence. Along these lines, I expect he will have great success in his chosen career of state politics.

In conclusion, please avoid the mistakes of your parents, and don’t reproduce. Thank you, and don’t keep in touch.