First, there's the futile quest itself. In my case it's not so futile, but I'm finding that the pursuit of a double B.A. (English and Philosophy) with a minor in Psychology makes for a very full plate -- especially so, when you consider I have to care for a two-year-old and make a living, too.

But back to the M.P. parallels...

Remember the scene with the Black Night? That was my Philosophy professor and my term paper on David Hume's Scepticism. He set the requirements for the paper at the beginning of the semester and I met them. After turning in a draft for him to review, he comes back with "Excellent! But can you also explore this and that other perspective?" No problem. But then he kept adding a new "this" and "that" at every turn. Each time I lopped off a limb of the requirements, he'd add a new one. The week before it was due he was still doing this, but I simply ignored him and handed him the final draft. BTW... I got an A.

How about the scene on the bridge ("What is your favorite color?")? This was my Psych class. Multiple choice tests based on material which I knew inside and out, but when faced with the questions under pressure, my mind blanked. I ended up acing the tests (got across the bridge) and even threw the professor off of it a few times (one or two questions on each test were graded incorrectly). All A's again.

The nuns in Castle Anthrax? The young ladies in my writing class jockey for seats next to mine on the days we turn in our papers. We peer review each other's papers before turning them in and they know I get A's all the time. I know I'm being used, but to a middle-aged man all that attention is flattering (and a potential disaster for my home life).

And then there's the scene at the end where the cops show up. Here we are, the week before finals -- I can almost see the grail now -- and I got busted for DUI. I rarely drink and drive, and when I do it's negligable amounts. But I had too much to drink, not enough to eat, and some Good Samaratan called the cops because I was weaving. My own damn fault and a stupid thing to do, but the boys in blue took my old VW. I've since got it back, but now I'm facing a summer of court dates, no driving privileges, hefty fines and at least a guaranteed four-day residential "driving school". Then there's the attorney's fees.

There was more, but I don't have time to get into it here today. In any case, "I'm not dead yet" even though they're rolling the credits.