Okay, I am pissed off! I am so so angry. The only thing I EVER watch on TV anymore is one show. One single show, consisting of political and social commentary done by one of the very few intelligent TV-show hosts in my country. He is brilliant, and as one would expect, with intelligence comes anger towards the retarded system which governs my fair land, and especially towards the maggot infested idiots who support it and thrive in it. I share in his anger and frustration but one particular subject really found an echo in my brain. A subject, related, of course, to education.
So, apparently, the brilliantly retarded heads of state or the ministers or whatever are debating a new possible law. One that would require that the parents of kids who skip classes in school (oh my god! oh my god, how could this be happening? it is the end of the world!!!) pay fees! Like taxes, fines, that sort of thing. WTF? Seriously, can you say WTF? To say that this is outrageous would be a gross understatement.
At the beginning of highschool, I tried to respect the school’s policy. I tried to stay put on my unwilling, bored ass and just try not to fall asleep or drool at the edge of my mouth when everything seemed to become a blur at the end of the day. Sometimes I succeeded, sometimes I failed. It was all whatever and I managed to stay in line. But oh, the horror. Come 11th grade, and the joy of my native language classes ended forever. Not that it had been marvelous and overwhelming until then, but oh, what the gods bestowed upon me a normal human being would not be able to fathom. The original teacher, who had had pregnancy leave, returned, and upon that return, all hell broke loose. I would have liked to have an evil gnome bitch as a teacher. A monstrosity who beat us (not that I would have permitted that, but I did have that in the 5th grade and I lived). Anything. Anything but her.
One would say that so much hypocrisy and stupidity could not possibly fit within such a small human being. But oh, how the laws of Physics failed. This woman was so horrible, so horrendous, she made me hate that class forever. She made me despise so much of what I loved, so much poetry, so so much of everything we were supposed to like. In two years, we did NOTHING. Not one serious, normal, actual lesson. Just crap. A big, smelly pile of useless crap. We had an exam coming up. Were we ever prepared for it? Hell no. Why should we not pay extra money to other teachers and toil extra hours at home? She gets paid for sitting on her stupid ass, staring at us and talking about her baby, who is not to be blamed in all of this, but whom I really don’t give an F about. Seriously. I do not want to know that the kid has a rash, that the kid got some stupid cold, that he pees around everywhere, and my life could have continued perfectly well if I had not been informed about the position she gave birth to him in. Yes, my dear readers, I have had many traumas in my life, and the classes I had to sit in with the crazy creature were a big part of it.
But now I come to the subject of the day. At some point in the 11th grade, I decided that, you know what, I am no one’s slave. This is not education, this is not even a good joke about education. So I stopped showing up. I simply stopped caring about the little retard. After Maths class, screw you school! I would throw my bag over my shoulder and get the hell out, no looking back, and if she did happen to see me leave, I would make sure she knew it was me leaving because of her damned class. So my absences started growing. In the 12th grade I barely saw her all semester and I think that is the reason why I actually managed to maintain my sanity. But if the retarded law I talked about would have actually existed, imagine the enormous fines my parents would have been forced to pay. I mean…wtf? They would have to pay because of my refusal to be brain washed and insulted. Right. This is normal. This is the country I live in. And the bullcrap does not end here.
She is still a teacher there, tormenting highschoolers with rules like: you have to line your ENTIRE notebook from the first class with 2 lines of different colours (riiiight…that only happened in the first half of the first semester of the 11th grade, after that, all the lines were improvised without a ruler, after which I stopped tracing them altogether); you have to wrap your notebooks in white paper so you can see the dirt on the covers and change them (yeah, that one worked really well; I did cover it in white paper, but it was the cheapest, crappiest paper I could find, inferior to the toilet paper I prefer, to be precise, and I kept the same paper cover for 2 years; needless to say, stuff was growing on it when I ultimately threw it in the trash). And it gets worse and worse. You couldn’t believe the tests we got. Hey, I couldn’t believe them and I was forced to take them. And then accept an inferior grade by an illiterate who didn’t like me. Boo hoo. I stopped being insulted when I participated in a haiku contest and she, unfortunately, organised it. When I saw that she had absolutely NO effing idea what a haiku meant (a haiku is not just a poem with a strict number of words on each line, it must also refer to an image of nature, something concise, complete, beautiful in its simplicity and hidden complexity, ergo, not a piece of crap about Tesla coils and awkward sexual encounters between animals of different species; in old-school Japan, the retarded owners of those haikus would have probably been outcast at the borders of society and she would have had her head cut off, or she would have been forced to kiss herself for dishonoring absolutely anything in the known world; i would have watched, of course).
So my conclusion is: my parents got off with almost no expanse when I was in highschool. Oh, those were the days. And my idea was: how can the minister be so completely stupid and ridiculous, as to propose such a law? Okay, kids shouldn’t play hookie in school, true. But they should also spend their time there actually DOING something useful. Learning something other than the number of ant bites on the teacher’s kid’s ass. Getting prepared for the final exams, for life, for university. Obtaining general knowledge. Effing doing something, for god’s sake! But of course, the minister has no idea whatsoever about what an actual school is like, about how frustrated you feel when you go home from what is supposedly the best highschool in town, feeling drained of energy because all you did during language class is argue with a creature that would have no place in the education system in any country outside this one. He has no idea. You have no idea, you retard. God, I am so happy I finished highschool when I did. At least in uni, I have gained the power NOT to care so much.
Vive la education!
