Every Tuesday and Thursday noon, Michael Fassbender and his Photoshopped jaw interrupt my office hours. He usually disarms me when I’m skimming my required reading, or grading pop quizzes, or praying that no student materializes with the usual gamut of questions (“what exactly did you mean by thesis statement?”; “I currently have a D in your class, but I want an A, so, like…?”)—in other words, ole Fassbender announces himself when I’m exactly distracted enough to forget that he’s always lurking in the periphery.