Parallels between Oxford and Full Metal Jacket

Oxford is a bit like an intellectual boot camp. Eight weeks of intense work, with a month's reprieve for you to drink yourself to a sloshy mush on the floor of some bar in Dover or some shit. Moreover, one-on-one tutorials have to be the most embarrassing, invasive way to get an education imaginable. You have to read your essays aloud, meaning that every flaw and ridiculous cliche you employ has to cross your timid, quivering lips. Then the teacher points out the flaws and spelling errors you yourself can see before you. "Excuse me, but I had to write this in two days. It's not gonna be the Bhavita fucking Ghita." Hopefully I'll become a better writer and not have to endure the jibes and japes of my tutors. But I have five more weeks here, and I don't know how much I can improve until then. Plus, one of my tutors keeps calling me faggot all the time. I think that's just uncalled for.