Willy Trolove: If the cap doesn't fit you may as well wear it anyway

Welcome to your graduation ceremony. You are here today because you have convinced your university, polytech, or wananga that you deserve to graduate from your chosen course of study, despite the debilitating volume of beer you have consumed during this period.

Your tertiary institution is a progressive and forward-looking organisation, so it is a mystery why it requires you to graduate in such an archaic ceremony as this.

For example, the academic regalia that you have to wear for the ceremony is of no use in the modern world, unless you want to appear as an extra in a Harry Potter movie.

The regalia includes a gown, a hood and a silly hat. Putting on the regalia correctly is a final intelligence test that students must pass before they graduate.

The gown is easy to figure out. It goes over whatever you are wearing at the time. This assumes, of course, that you are wearing something at the time and haven't turned up to your graduation ceremony naked. Don't worry, I had a nightmare about that once, too.

The hood hangs down the back of the gown and should not be worn over the head. It was traditionally employed to collect dandruff, an essential role in universities before the invention of the indoor shower. Despite the obvious advances in plumbing since then, the hood is often still used for this purpose today.

The silly hat is, perhaps, the least practical item in the regalia. Depending on your qualification, it may resemble anything from a cheeseboard with a tail to a large friendly meringue.

You should not put on your silly hat until you have been capped by your tertiary institution's figurehead, sometimes known as the chancellor.

Chancellors are easy to identify because they have an even sillier hat than everyone else and wear gowns of many colours. The gown looks like the sort of thing that might have been worn by Joseph, who was a progressive and forward-looking public administrator in ancient Egypt.

The ceremony begins with a procession of academic dignitaries. This is an endurance test for the senior members of the faculty. If they can't make it onto the stage under their own steam then they should think about retiring. But if they get to their seat without incident, they are entitled to doze through the rest of the ceremony, secure in the knowledge that they are fit enough to lecture students for another year.

Once the dignitaries are seated, the graduates and guests are warmly welcomed by the chancellor. The chancellor has distinguished academic credentials, a proven track record in managing a progressive and forward-looking organisation, and, more importantly, the ability to shake thousands of hands without wincing.

The chancellor usually takes this opportunity to report on the progress of the institution and to criticise the Government for the poor level of funding in the challenging academic environment.

It is then traditional to sing the famous university song Gaudeamus Igitur. This is sung in a progressive and forward-looking language that was last in popular use at the fall of the Roman Empire.

The song seeks to inspire graduates. It does this by reminding you of how short life is, how depressing it is to grow old, and how soon we will all be dead. Not surprisingly, some of the senior members of the faculty sometimes choose not to sing all the words.

Usually, the chancellor then invites a special guest to address and motivate the graduates. Often the special guest is a captain of industry, a sporting hero, or someone who has excelled at their chosen endeavour. And often the special guest has managed to get where he or she is today without a relevant tertiary qualification.

To make up for this, the chancellor sometimes grants the special guest an honorary doctorate, degree or diploma. This is so that they don't feel out of place sitting among all the other people with silly hats.

Once the formalities are over, the graduation, or capping, begins. You must walk onto the stage and - if you don't trip over your gown - you will be capped by the chancellor. You will then be handed a parchment that you can frame and proudly hang in the small grey cubicle where you will spend much of your working life.

Once the ceremony is complete you are free to go out into the world, invigorated by your gradation ceremony and armed with your qualification, and perform a wide variety of amusing and harmless capping stunts.

Graduates should note that if they aim to get a job in the New Zealand economy, it might be best not to embark on the kind of capping stunt that could ruin that economy overnight.