Lawrence University’s constant, obsessive, exhaustive and generally all-consuming intra-institutional research has finally uncovered a significant but not at all surprising trend: Really stupid Conservatory and humanities students with S/Us are clogging intro-level science courses, taking up spots that could otherwise go to someone who might actually be able to get a B in the course. According to the research – which came as a surprise to no one – the General Education Requirements have brought in a new breed of student to Lawrence’s science departments, a breed of student that seeks connections between the humanities and the sciences instead of actually learning science. Professor of Biology Beth DeStasio has done her part to make her Principles of Biology course impenetrable to the S/U. Still, though, 50 to 100 students file into her classroom each year in search of that elusive C-minus. “That’s when I got the idea: if they want a C-Minus, I’ll give them the C. Elegans,” DeStasio said. Now, in order to pass the intro biology course, students will have to breed, maintain, observe and conduct independent graduate level research on DeStasio’s favorite worm. DeStasio’s approach, though, is controversial since it threatens to weed out actual scientists. Many biology majors are now working with the DeStasios and other biology faculty to construct an intro course that would be impenetrable to those in the humanities but accessible and masterable to those who actually have any interest whatsoever in the sciences. Many other biology majors who are not currently working to construct this course are now drinking wine with Doc Maravolo. With biology now more difficult and Physics of Music rapidly filling up, many students are trying to sneak into upper-level courses. Many science professors are afraid of what could happen if Lawrence’s prized nanoscience equipment falls into untrained hands. “Now, I know I’m one of the ‘cool’ professors,” said “Doctor Dave” Hall, “but before the term started, when some smelly music composition major from the SMEE house came up to me and asked if I could supervise an independent study lab for his GER that would explore the application of the Ocean Optics UV-vis spectrometer on John Cage’s conception of silence, I asked him, ‘How did you get into this school? Were you one of those people who didn’t take the ACT?'” The geology department, though, is facing the most dire crisis of all. Course enrollments have already risen due to Lawrence fellow Dave Sunderlin’s stunning facial features and chiseled body, Andrew Knudsen’s hippie credentials, and Marcia Bjornerud’s reader-friendly bestseller. What’s more, the promise of a field trip is all but irresistible to the humanities or Conservatory student. “I like rocks,” explained senior theatre arts major Siri Hellerman. “They’re pretty.” Plans are underway for future intro geology courses that replace labs with early morning slideshows. Tentatively, Sunderlin has been advised to lecture seated behind a black veil, and science majors have been advised either to return to high school and seek Advanced Placement credit in the laboratory field of their choice, or to pursue independent study opportunities with faculty from other universities who are not as busy educating the experimental composers of tomorrow.