In this week’s concluding
interview with Sir
Cumnavey Gashun, the
designer of the convoluted
Bucks Newtown campus,
we explore the source of
his eccentric design ideas.
Sir Cumnavey, what
inspired you to come up
with such a complicated
design for the ewtown
Campus?
Actually, I built on the pioneering
work of Dr. E.
Lusive of the Heidelberg
Convoluted Design
Institute, where I did my
graduate work. You think
that it was hard to find
your first classes at
Newtown? Try finding the
first class at the Design
Institute.
To graduate we had to get a
grade of C or better in
Navigating Convoluted
Designs, taught by Dr.
Lusive. Finding the classroom
was nearly impossible.
Why does that sound familiar?
The Institute was a hodgepodge
of multi-floor buildings,
some ultra-modern,
others centuries-old and all
vastly different from each
other. The buildings had
been converted from their
former uses to classroom
buildings. They included
two brothels, a factory that
manufactured holes to put
in donuts, and a plant that
unbottled water, failed
businesses all.
There were two other former
factories located on
opposite sides of the campus.
One of them made
deo, and the other made
dorant. Everyone said that
if only they had gotten
together, they would have
enjoyed the sweet smell of
success. There were 23
other buildings, But I
digress.
The information sheet that
we were given only provided
the date and time when
the class was supposed to
begin, nothing else. We
were shocked to find out
that our grade was solely
determined by our ability
to find the class.
The class was only held
once a week. Our grade
was to be reduced five
points for each week that
we couldn’t find the class.
They would throw us out
of the program if we didn’t
find the class by the sixth
week.
At least here at Bucks, you
can always ask another student
for directions. They
probably don’t have any
better idea of they are than
you do but at least you can
ask. At Heidelberg, the
slightest hint that you were
collaborating with another
student and you were dismissed.
Finding that class was the
hardest thing that I have
ever done.
Many Bucks student feel
the same way.
What students experience
here at Newtown is child’s
play. Almost 60 percent of
the class dropped out
before the fourth class.
Several others committed
suicide rather than suffer
the disgrace of not graduating.
Two poor souls found the
hidden classroom at the
same time and became
wedged together in the
doorway. They feared that
it might appear that they
were collaborating. As
soon as they freed themselves,
they viciously
attacked each other with
slide rules.
Slide rules?
Yes, slide rules. Before
they had digital calculators
and personal computers,
engineers and the like used
slide rules to make calculations.
They were rulerlong
sticks that were triangular-
shaped instead of
round.
They both died from the
altercation. It was hushed
up and the mess was quickly
cleaned up to remove
any hint of the classroom’s
location.
So how did you eventually
find the class?
I hardly slept a wink for
five-and-a-half straight
weeks. There were 2,143
rooms to explore, located
in buildings which had
multiple staircases, innumerable
hallways, blind
alleys, interior spaces skillfully
hidden away behind
false fronts, basements,
attics and the like.
I went through those buildings
four or five times each
day, getting lost and confused
over and over again.
We know what that’s like.
After three frustrating
weeks without any hint of
success, I started preparing
as-built maps of all of the
buildings in order to identify
any hidden spaces. I
finally found the classroom
five-and-a-half weeks after
I started school.
It was hidden behind a
boiler in the basement of
Building 13, the old donut
hole factory. That’s where
they kept the holes. There
were still a few laying
around, so I took one as a
souvenir.
What was the course like
when you finally found the
classroom?
Course? There wasn’t any.
All there was a sign
instructing me to immediately
report to the registrar
and tell them where I had
found the classroom door.
When I reported, they
handed me my degree in
Graduate Convoluted
Design and that was that.
No classes, no tests?
That’s insane, cool, but still
insane.
No, it was brilliant. By
searching for that classroom,
I learned more about
building design, utilization
of interior space, placement
of rooms, hallways, and
staircases, as well as the
construction of complicated
labyrinths and mazes,
than if I had taken a multitude
of courses from the
best professors.
Only one thing bothered
me about the experience.
What was that?
I never actually met
Professor E. Lusive the
entire time that I was at
Heidelberg. For all I know,
he may never have even
existed.
End of Interview
So now we all know the
reason why the design of
the Newtown campus is so
crazy; it was designed by a
man whose only qualification
was that he was
trained by someone who
may not have even existed.
I’m thinking of applying to
the Heidelberg Convoluted
Design Institute. I could
do six weeks of searching
for a classroom standing on
my head. I’ve already done
more than that at Bucks.
Haven’t you? If not, keep
on circumnavigating.
P.S. Don’t miss next
week’s musings on “Living
the Cyberspace Life,”
which examines Internet
sites like ButtFace, Fritter,
Koogle and games like
“Janitorville” and “Granny
Gang Wars.”

Mac’s Manic Musings is a
probably futile attempt to
wring some usefulness out of
a brain hopelessly addled by
ADD, head trauma, other
mental infirmities, a dissolute
youth, and the ravages of
time. I hope it provides you
with some measure of enjoyment.
Mac welcomes your
comments, good or bad. If
something seriously offends,
nasty letters to the editor are
much preferred over violent
physical confrontation.

Disclaimer: The views
expressed herein are not
endorsed by BCCC, the
Centurion, nor any sane individual
or entity. Mac’s considered
policy on libel is:
“Bring on your rapacious
lawyers. I’m a destitute student
and judgment-proof. “