Okay, now I'm just angry

So, I'm taking this class. It's the worst class on the planet. This used to be kinda funny--I'd show up, sit like a human lumpkin in front of some new and useless Powerpoint the professor had prepared on how to use a search engine, roll my eyes and make funny faces with my classmates. Sometimes we would go out for drinks after and calculate how much money we were wasting for each class we attended (£32); we speculated that these funds were being used to keep the professor in half-zip pullovers and hair gel. Haha.

But now? Now I'm mad. It turns out that the paper we are to write for this class, the only form of assessment that will be used for our final grade, which grade determines our ability to continue on to write a dissertation, without which this entire program is a giant failure...this paper needs to be written using the tools learned throughout the class, which were never imparted to us, and so now I find myself being instructed to write a paper using methods I haven't been taught, which will be used to assess how well I have learned those methods.

Friends, I believe the term for this situation is "railroading."

Aside from the inevitable failure that must result from such a situation, I am especially peeved because the research I did before I realized I was being asked to do the impossible would make a really, really good paper. This shit would be great. And now it's buried under some ridiculous synopsis of scholarship over the last forty years, because THAT'S so interesting it just makes me want to crawl under my bed and die. Like a possum. I just want to die under a rock like an animal.

This is not what I'm here for.