In 2008′s least shocking expose, the Atlanta Journal-Constitution dredged the sweat-stained pit of college academics and came up with, essentially, a national “dumb jock” joke.

Hating on athletes is pretty standard practice for the squishy intellectual set, probably because we’ve got a few bones to pick about getting stuffed in lockers and picked last for dodgeball. (As an aside, has anyone actually been stuffed into a locker in the past thirty years? The jocks these days just steal our iPods.)

But, whether we hear it from major newspapers or the bottom of locker no. 104, the news is the same: at the corner of college athletics and college admissions, something is gravely ill.

At the University of Georgia, the average football SAT was 949, which is 239 points behind the average for an undergraduate student at Georgia — and 79 points behind Tech’s football average. The Bulldogs’ average high school GPA was 2.77, or 45th out of 53 teams for which football GPAs were available. Their SAT average ranked them 22nd.

Nationwide, coaches who would never offer a scholarship to a player who was 6 inches shorter or half a second slower than other prospects routinely recruit players whose standardized test scores suggest they’re at a competitive disadvantage in the classroom.

For every school that had football and men’s basketball SAT data available, team members averaged hundreds of points lower than the general student body. And the best average football SAT score in the nation – 1058 at Georgia Tech – would barely be acceptable in your average liberal arts school candidate.

So what’s the problem here? Sure, UConn’s basketball department loved to rep 3.8-toting hoops star Emeka Okafor, but it’s silly to expect the average college athelete to devote the same level of energy to their schoolwork as a more mundane student, right? High-profile athletics takes passion, dedication and time, and if college teams want to compete, they have to make sacrifices.

But this begs the question: why do colleges want to compete so badly? Obvious answer – big athletics equals big money (UConn knows about that, too). Money can translate into high-profile academic gains, and so the admittance of lower-scoring students might just be a pill colleges have to swallow.

Unfortunately, this doesn’t really help the diligent students who get shoved out of their first-pick school because another, academically inferior candidate happened to have a good passing arm. And arguing that minority athletes tend to graduate more often than non-minority athletes, as Georgia Tech coach Paul Hewitt insists, doesn’t hold any water – honestly, what message does that send to minority students? You can succeed in the biased, loaded world of mainstream academia, but only if you Be Like Mike?

And what do those sacrifices mean for the college world as a whole? Ultimately, I don’t think lowering academic standards to boost athletic ones is a fair trade for the American educational system. The former president of the University of Florida complains that “We go out on the field and get beaten by people we couldn’t admit.” Well, as Americans, we’re gonna go out into the world and get beaten by the people we wouldn’t admit – bright, creative, well-educated individuals who would have found their college spots taken by athletes, and entire departments of geniuses who got their funding cut because they couldn’t sell Gatorade.

Athletics can’t be responsible for our national brain drain alone, but they’re sure not helping.

I dunno. Am I pulling a Merlin, complaining pointlessly about “games-mania”? Is this just the dodgeball welts talking? I’m not hating on athletics, and I’m sure that the average college philosophy (or my very own English, even) department isn’t very useful on the world stage, either. But with numbers like these coming out – though I know that SATs can be way off the mark – is it time for a cultural re-focusing? Help me out, here.

Stepping inside, I couldn’t tell whether I was in a doctor’s waiting room or the locker area of a gym. To the right were chairs arranged in a tight circle, magazines scattered about the area; on the opposing wall there stood a row of rusted lockers.

A sign directed me to the front desk where a young man asked for my ID, and upon being certain that I was who I claimed to be, offered me a clipboard. I signed the honor code, promising that I would not use any forbidden study materials or divulge the contents of any question on the test. The specific rules for the GRE and testing in the center were stated on a piece of paper behind the one I’d signed, reminding me that nothing was allowed into the testing room with me, that study materials could not be used at any time after the test began, and that during my 10 minute break (if I wished to take said break) I could not leave the facility.

I returned my clipboard to the desk and was handed my driver’s license, which I was ordered to keep with me at all times. My bag was stowed away in one of the beaten-down lockers and I was led to the back where another man took my photograph, as evidently there needed to be further visual proof that I was the person taking the test, and then was told to sign in. With a stack of scratch paper in hand and a few number two pencils, I was led to a cubicle in one of the many testing rooms. There were audiophones available for anyone who found the sounds of keys clacking and computer fans blowing far too distracting.

With a whispered “good luck,” my new found friend returned to his cubicle to photograph the next unsuspecting test taker and to keep track of the various monitors that made his station look more like security than a place for people to sign-in and sign-out. The screen asked me to verify whether I was in fact the person who I claimed to be, then showed me a blurry photograph – the one that had been taken moments before – which looked more like a mugshot than one suitable for a testing agency.

Following this screen, I was given several tutorials, the first of which I took mainly to allow more time to calm down before the actual testing began. It also provided me with a moment of hilarity as the first tutorial was on how to use a computer mouse. I personally believe it provided me with more confidence, as after demonstrating that I could in fact left-click on a particular portion of the screen the computer offered me lavish praise.

The next tutorial taught me how to cut and paste, which again left me feeling above the bar. The only tutorial that taught me anything I hadn’t already known was the last one, which explained the different buttons that were used on the exam such as the “time” button, which would either hide or unhide the allotted time left; the “next” button that you clicked once you’d answered a question; and the “confirm answer” button if you were confident in your answer.

Finally, I was into the exam. Four hours later, I completed the last question and received my scores.

I share this story because, for anyone going into their senior year of college, graduate school is becoming a consideration. Personally I went through a lot of choices during the past year, debating between law school or another graduate program, before finally settling on psychology as my field of study.

There are many different exams required for graduate school, although the GRE is the most common. There is the online exam, which is the common GRE format, but then there are also subject tests for Biochemistry, Cell and Molecular Biology, Biology, Chemistry, Computer Science, Literature in English, Mathematics, Physics, and, my personal favorite subject, Psychology. Unlike the basic GRE exam, which is made up of Verbal, Quantitative and Analytic Writing sections, subject test are three hour examinations only on the one particular subject.

In order to prepare for the GRE, there are many classes available to students who might struggle in recalling exactly what they were taught in high school math classes or need other assistance. I know I didn’t recall how to calculate the area of a circle the first time I took a GRE practice test (it’s our friend pi times the radius squared, for those who might be curious), so these prep courses were especially helpful.

The two major test preparation organizations for GRE and other examinations are The Princeton Review and Kaplan. Other such wonderful materials can be found with The GRE For Dummies and other study materials available from Kaplan and the Princeton Review which you can purchase without actually enrolling in any of their classes.

And, of course, when you officially register for the GRE, ETS is always happy to send you preparation materials!

With graduate school application deadlines approaching over the next several months, there is still plenty of time to take the GRE. The online exam is offered nearly every day at times that are convenient for anyone and everyone. If you are looking for a graduate program that requires a subject test, now is the time to find out and register as the latest most institutions allow you to take the test is November.

Now that I have my computer exam out of the way, it is time to start preparing for my subject test. Grad school, here I come.

In reality, though, more than half of Princeton’s student body is on financial aid, and a very large percentage of that is on nearly 100% financial aid. In addition to that, students spend a lot of time in the summer traveling to developing countries, doing community service in struggling neighborhoods, and generally getting their hands dirty. And yet, the myth persists…and for good reason.

There are a lot of different ways people can be “sheltered.” Ivy Leaguers may not all be rolling in wealth, but they still have an embarrassing lack of practical knowledge across the board. Because most of us spent our young lives with our noses stuck in books or playing some sport obsessively, we don’t really know how to, well, get along in the real world.

Most of us can’t change a tire, balance a checkbook, buy health insurance, or even iron a shirt properly. We take our laundry home for the parents to do whenever possible, and we hold off getting our hair cut until we can get home too. We’re good at buying the stuff we need online, but don’t ask us to pick out the right screws from a hardware store or a good cut of meat from the butcher. We’re learned and ridiculously mature in some ways, and yet so unaware in many others.

I know the Ivy League is all about giving students a top-notch liberal arts education, but it would be great if they could give us a little practical knowledge as well; the stuff we didn’t have time to learn from our parents because we were too busy studying for the SAT’s. I say, if we’re going to be the leaders of tomorrow, we ought to know how the world really works on the micro level.

We should be able to take a class on real world knowledge, whether it’s fixing a leaky faucet, cooking, or tying a full Windsor knot in a tie. Because the college life may involve memorizing the events that led up to the Civil War, or surfing the internet for some answers, but one day we’ll suddenly be expected to know about Grown-Up Stuff, and who’s going to teach us that?

It’s now the most dangerous web site for your future. Not only do many employers admit to looking at facebook profiles for potential hires, but it may have had an influence on where you were accepted to college.

Are you one of those people who can’t figure out why they didn’t get into their dream school, even though you wrote a kick a** essay, aced the ACTs/SATs, did about 1,235 extracurricular activities, started a volunteer organization, and help the homeless in your spare time?

Well, maybe you should check the inappropriate quotes on your profile or all of those pictures tagged of you underage drinking in your friend’s basement while her parents were out of town.

Yes, sadly enough, it’s true. Admissions officers at a particular Ivy league college now admit to checking facebook for potential applicants. Ugh, this makes me sick.

Brown University officials said in a NY Times article that “there is a limit to what we can appropriately judge people on…But, you have to remember (Facebook) is a public place.”

Also in the article, it said that “Sometimes admission officers receive friend requests on Facebook from applicants, noting that accepting the requests ‘would appear weird.’

The real question here is: Why on earth are middle aged admissions officers on Facebook?

If they want us to set a positive example with our facebook profiles that would be deemed college applicant friendly, then I don’t think the actual officers should take part in the somewhat juvenile web site. That seems, somehow…hypocritical.

Maybe others don’t see this as a very big deal, but I know that during my college years, the last people I wanted checking out my profile are school officials, much less admissions officers.

Bottom Line: Clean, clean, clean up your profile. Untag, untag, untag your pics!

The English part of that standardized bullshit was easier for me than the mind numbing numbers sections, but a little thing called vocabulary kept me from getting a top score. Learning words that people don’t use on a daily basis wasn’t ever something I cared to do, but had I only known a few more nerdy terms, I could have hit the language jackpot.

Classless Education, a “collective of comedy writers and educators” have decided I’m not the only one who could use some vocab help. The group recently put out a book called The Yo Momma Vocabulary Builder, an “irreverent, educational” paperback that attempts to teach the finer points of language with some of the oldest jokes in the book.

“Your Momma’s so emaciated,” one sample joke goes, “she can hula hoop in a fruit loop!” The entry also includes the word origin, how to say it, and an explanation for today’s times. “Emaciated isn’t just skinny, it’s too skinny, unhealthy looking, skeletal. Think Olsen twins, supermodels, Gollum from Lord of the Rings, and Ally McBeal.”

Besides the fact that no one remembers—or cares about—Ally McBeal anymore, The Yo Mamma Vocabulary Builder sounds like an amusing way to learn bigger, better words. Will the majority of the jokes in there most likely be lame? Sure, but leafing through a Thesaurus is lamer.

…And listening to a tutor with giant coke glasses explain the meaning of pallid on a Friday night is even worse. My junior year in high school can attest to that.