Everything Other Than Taxation

The Business department at Old Ivy College offers a single major, in Tax Accounting. Forbes Magazine recently asked Mr. Vanderbilt, head of the department, to comment on this. His response:

Corporate fads come and go. In the Nineteen Sixties, conglomerates were the thing; in the Nineteen Seventies, it was Marketing. Leveraged buyouts were hot in the Nineteen Eighties, and in the Nineteen Nineties Information Technology was the next new thing. In the Two Thousands, everyone wanted to get in on Outsourcing, Globalization and Securitization.
Over the last fifty years taxation and its avoidance is the single constant in business.

Privately, Mr. Vanderbilt expresses the same sentiment more succinctly:

Everything other than Taxation is bullshit.

Henry Witherspoon is enrolled in the Tax program. His transition from Kulturpunk to aspiring accountant was rather abrupt. One day, he revered Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, Robert Schumann and Bettina von Arnim; the next, he thought little about anything other than accelerated depreciation, tax-loss carryforwards and Subchapter S corporations. Some find this hard to understand.

"I simply can't understand how Henry Witherspoon can go from Kulturpunk to Tax Accountant," says Molly as she eats lunch with the usual crowd.

Megan has no trouble understanding Henry. "It's all about pussy," she says.

Anna, on Roderick's left, whispers to him: "What is this pussy...like cat?" Roderick just smiles.

Molly doesn't understand. "What do you mean...all about pussy?"

"Henry wanted sex with Natasha," Megan explains. "Natasha is a Kulturpunk. Henry understands that the shortest way to a woman's pussy is through her soul. So Henry became a Kulturpunk, too."

Molly frowns. "But if that's true, why did he stop?"

Before Megan can answer, Natasha joins them. She wears a black leotard and jeans; the leotard exposes her very shapely figure. Today, her black hair is gathered in a bunch and tossed over her right shoulder. Natasha takes a seat at the end of the table, to Roderick's right.

"God, the brats are driving me crazy. I try to Skype them now and then, and every time it's like 'Hi, Felix! Hi Fanny!' and they just sit there and drool and scream for Mrs. Pampers. And they can't even walk yet. I think Witherspoon must have defective genes or something, because these kids are turning out to be retards."

Roderick wants to say something conciliatory in response, but his mind is focused at the moment on how hot she looks. Meanwhile Molly, sitting across from Roderick, thinks she understands now why Henry is no longer motivated by the possibility of sex with Natasha.

Henry Witherspoon joins them, taking the one remaining seat at the table directly across from Natasha. "Hello, everyone!" he says, cheerfully.

Natasha glares. "Traitor! Apostate! Turncoat!" she hisses.

Henry glares back. "Bitch! Slut! I'll sue for custody!"

"My father will crush you like a bug!"

Roderick interjects. "It's nice that the two of you can communicate your feelings."

In the evening. Roderick and Molly work on Logic, Rhetoric and Mathematics in her room. Around ten, they set the clocks forward and slip under the covers.

Molly snuggles against Roderick. "What about you?" she whispers. "Are you motivated solely by the possibility of pussy?" she giggles.

Roderick recognizes this to be a loaded question. He snuggles back.