Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Tekeli-Li You Bastard! Tekeli-Li!
While most American schools argue about whether pretty lies about Sky Daddies making the world should be taught in science lessons one school is aiming for the true path.
Arguing that students should return to the fundamentals taught in the Pnakotic Manuscripts and the Necronomicon in order to develop the skills they need to be driven to the very edge of sanity, Arkham school board member Charles West continued to advance his pro-madness agenda at the district's monthly meeting Tuesday.
"Fools!" said West, his clenched fist striking the lectern before him. "We must prepare today's youth for a world whose terrors are etched upon ancient clay tablets recounting the fever-dreams of the other gods—not fill their heads with such trivia as math and English. Our graduates need to know about those who lie beneath the earth, waiting until the stars align so they can return to their rightful place as our masters and wage war against the Elder Things and the shoggoths!"
As ever, he faces resistance from those with less vision than he.
"Charles sure likes to bang on that madness drum," fellow school board member Danielle Kolker said. "I'm not totally sold on his plan to let gibbering, half-formed creatures dripping with ichor feed off the flesh and fear of our students."
This man needs your support!
Arguing that students should return to the fundamentals taught in the Pnakotic Manuscripts and the Necronomicon in order to develop the skills they need to be driven to the very edge of sanity, Arkham school board member Charles West continued to advance his pro-madness agenda at the district's monthly meeting Tuesday.
"Fools!" said West, his clenched fist striking the lectern before him. "We must prepare today's youth for a world whose terrors are etched upon ancient clay tablets recounting the fever-dreams of the other gods—not fill their heads with such trivia as math and English. Our graduates need to know about those who lie beneath the earth, waiting until the stars align so they can return to their rightful place as our masters and wage war against the Elder Things and the shoggoths!"
As ever, he faces resistance from those with less vision than he.
"Charles sure likes to bang on that madness drum," fellow school board member Danielle Kolker said. "I'm not totally sold on his plan to let gibbering, half-formed creatures dripping with ichor feed off the flesh and fear of our students."
This man needs your support!
Labels: Creationism, Evolution, humour, school, United States
Friday, February 01, 2008
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to Ensure equity of access to NHS treatment for gender dysphoria.
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to amend the Gender Recognition Act 2004 to enable people whose gender identity is neither male or female to have the opportunity to assign their legal gender as 'other' or 'intersex' if they so wish.
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to to investigate Scientology organisations operating in the UK to ensure the National Minimum Wage is being paid to their employees.
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to stop the right of MP's to vote on their own pay awards. MP's pay award to be made in line with the lowest awarded to public servants.
I especially like how the name for this petition in the No. 10 database is 'leaches'.
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to instruct the Foreign Secretary to urge the United Nations to include gender as an issue on which people can claim asylum due to fears of persecution.
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to Force Southfield School For Girls to allow us to retake our GCSE AQA Additonal Biology 2 paper, taken 15th January 2008.
After months of hard revision and rememebering (sic) complex teories (sic) on proteins, amino acids, osmosis and genetic diseases, we were presented with an irrelevant paper for our GCSE AQA Additional Biology. The questions were ridiculous, and all of our careful revision was wasted. Our school is refusing to let us resit, whereas other local school are. We feel this is unfair and that the paper we took does not genuinely reflect our knowledge of the topic.
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to Stamp Out Anti Social Behaviour Using the Following 20 point plan:
There is a plan. It's worrying how much thought he's put into this.
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to immediately acknowledge the plight of the palestinian's in Gaza and to do as much as is humanly possible to get food, clothing, medication and diesel to those who desperately need it.
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to Sever the links between the Church of Scientology and the Police, also to prevent further links similar to these.
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to amend the Gender Recognition Act 2004 to enable people whose gender identity is neither male or female to have the opportunity to assign their legal gender as 'other' or 'intersex' if they so wish.
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to to investigate Scientology organisations operating in the UK to ensure the National Minimum Wage is being paid to their employees.
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to stop the right of MP's to vote on their own pay awards. MP's pay award to be made in line with the lowest awarded to public servants.
I especially like how the name for this petition in the No. 10 database is 'leaches'.
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to instruct the Foreign Secretary to urge the United Nations to include gender as an issue on which people can claim asylum due to fears of persecution.
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to Force Southfield School For Girls to allow us to retake our GCSE AQA Additonal Biology 2 paper, taken 15th January 2008.
After months of hard revision and rememebering (sic) complex teories (sic) on proteins, amino acids, osmosis and genetic diseases, we were presented with an irrelevant paper for our GCSE AQA Additional Biology. The questions were ridiculous, and all of our careful revision was wasted. Our school is refusing to let us resit, whereas other local school are. We feel this is unfair and that the paper we took does not genuinely reflect our knowledge of the topic.
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to Stamp Out Anti Social Behaviour Using the Following 20 point plan:
There is a plan. It's worrying how much thought he's put into this.
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to immediately acknowledge the plight of the palestinian's in Gaza and to do as much as is humanly possible to get food, clothing, medication and diesel to those who desperately need it.
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to Sever the links between the Church of Scientology and the Police, also to prevent further links similar to these.
Labels: anti-social behaviour, Government, Israel, Palestine, petitions, school, Scientology, sex/gender, United Kingdom
Monday, March 12, 2007
Ahhh, it's the spirit of '88 as the Daily Mail resurrect the old Oh noes, our kids are being taught about teh queer! This will turn them into interior designers or car mechanics! It is noticeable that this time the Mail don't try to pretend there's no difference between 'teaching about' and 'promoting', they have those wacky, wacky Christians to do that for them, although by mentioning Section 28 the inference is there. I went to school under Section 28 and in a gulf of space between Danny La Rue and Lily Savage and look at me, so the idea that a few schoolbooks can make you gay you'd think even newspapers would have given up on that one by now.
Thousands face pay cut under new equality law. Because, you see, the villains here are all those women in lower paid jobs expecting equality, not management for refusing to raise them to the same level as that of men doing the same work.
Thousands face pay cut under new equality law. Because, you see, the villains here are all those women in lower paid jobs expecting equality, not management for refusing to raise them to the same level as that of men doing the same work.
Labels: bisexual, Daily Mail, feminism, gay, lesbian, school
Thursday, February 08, 2007
I really don't like snow and ice that much. I tend to like water in it's varied forms (hey, it's certainly the cutest sixty percent of my body mass) but I'm not too keen on it when it's solid because if there's one thing I like more than water it's notfreezingmyfuckingarseoff and the presence of snow tends to point towards the buttock-clenchingly chilly. After that "Squeeeeee! Snow!" moment you get on waking in the morning and looking out the window it's a vale of fucking tears my friend and let no-one tell you any different.
It's partly the fact that the United Kingdom is so shit at dealing with snow. All essential services grind to a halt as though the white stuff were some foreign concept. "'Snow' you say? Never heard of it. Sounds like some beastly trick of the European Union to make us abandon the pound. God save the Queen!" In fact, Londoner's learnt to live with the Blitz and Irish bombs so you would have thought we could have learnt to adapt to the snow. But no, first the train network breaks down because, being only a mere century or so old, they haven't had the time yet to R&D something to deal with the problem of snow on the line.
Roads generally don't have the same problems they did in the past. These days metropolitan areas have snow ploughs and gritters. In villages like the one where my parents live and I grew up (it's a fairly suburban village, it is surrounded by farms but the farmers are related only by marriage, not by birth as well) you are taking more chances when you go out driving. For many years we did have a big yellow bin at our end of the village on which was written 'SALT' but then we also had teenagers, so now when we have snow it's like Winter in Narnia. We did have Anne Widdicombe as our local MP but she never rode around on a sleigh or offered kids sweets.
Then there is the ritual of listening to local radio in the hopes it will be announced that your school was shut. This rarely happened to me as most of my schools were on main roads and I suspect the snow ploughs and gritters were in the pay of the headmaster. So instead we had the ritual of the mass snowball fights on the school fields. First break was always the best time as we ran out in to that snow that was as pure and virginal as the first form boys who would soon be covered in most of it. Mine was a school of traditions: prefects, the Combined Cadet Force and PE Teachers with drink problems and the belief that kids were given to them to help ease the frustrations of their unhappy marriages (Hel-lo Mr Diamond if you're out there!) and the tradition of the snow was that on the field race didn't matter, religion was unimportant, your father's conviction for embezzlement was forgotten, you were a band of brothers (I went to a single sex school, does it show?) with everyone in your year and your aim was simple: To find how fast snow had to travel to pierce the skin of someone younger than you. Once that was ascertained the next ritual was to sit shivering through lessons for the rest of the day because your clothes were all wetter than if they'd been put in the washing machine. You know that film Final Destination where the kids don't die in the plane crash and Death comes after them because he's pissed off with being cheated? We had buses with bad breaks and hills that tended not to be gritted. I cheated Death enough times going to school that I got invited to his sister's wedding and met his parents.
When you go out to work it's still the same. Will your business open and, if it does, will you get to go home early? For some reason, probably related to the way they automatically close for Christmas fortnight, most council departments decide not to bother opening when the white stuff is one the ground but libraries are expected to keep going regardless, as though people think they half-remember some old report about how the reading brain generates enough power to heat a small flat. We were due to stay open until 8:00 pm and had to wait until after lunch for the important decision from the management about whether we would shut and go home early. And it's one of those classic double binds, on the one hand we might get to finish early and go home, but on the other hand the library is better heated than my flat. Seeing as the management will go home early anyway it's never easy to guess how much they will care about the plight of their staff but in this case they let us close early. So I came home and had a warm bath.
I've wandered away from my point, whatever it was. Something to do with the sucking of snow and ice. But really, snow isn't that bad I suppose, it's when it melts and refreezes, that's the unpleasant time. I'm not looking forward to tomorrow, when the one mile gentle slope between my house and my place of work is transformed into a fiendish death-trap. I tend to end up having to take my chances walking in the road rather than on the sheet-ice pavements. Never mind these shoes for kids with wheels in the heels so as to allow the child to bend backwards, fall over and hilariously crack their skull on something sharp, the person who invents a successful shoe with a furnace underneath to allow us to burn holes in ice and so be guaranteed firm footing in snow will make a fortune.
Roll on the summer, I've already prepared my essay complaining about excessive heat and how ice cubes melt so quickly.
It's partly the fact that the United Kingdom is so shit at dealing with snow. All essential services grind to a halt as though the white stuff were some foreign concept. "'Snow' you say? Never heard of it. Sounds like some beastly trick of the European Union to make us abandon the pound. God save the Queen!" In fact, Londoner's learnt to live with the Blitz and Irish bombs so you would have thought we could have learnt to adapt to the snow. But no, first the train network breaks down because, being only a mere century or so old, they haven't had the time yet to R&D something to deal with the problem of snow on the line.
Roads generally don't have the same problems they did in the past. These days metropolitan areas have snow ploughs and gritters. In villages like the one where my parents live and I grew up (it's a fairly suburban village, it is surrounded by farms but the farmers are related only by marriage, not by birth as well) you are taking more chances when you go out driving. For many years we did have a big yellow bin at our end of the village on which was written 'SALT' but then we also had teenagers, so now when we have snow it's like Winter in Narnia. We did have Anne Widdicombe as our local MP but she never rode around on a sleigh or offered kids sweets.
Then there is the ritual of listening to local radio in the hopes it will be announced that your school was shut. This rarely happened to me as most of my schools were on main roads and I suspect the snow ploughs and gritters were in the pay of the headmaster. So instead we had the ritual of the mass snowball fights on the school fields. First break was always the best time as we ran out in to that snow that was as pure and virginal as the first form boys who would soon be covered in most of it. Mine was a school of traditions: prefects, the Combined Cadet Force and PE Teachers with drink problems and the belief that kids were given to them to help ease the frustrations of their unhappy marriages (Hel-lo Mr Diamond if you're out there!) and the tradition of the snow was that on the field race didn't matter, religion was unimportant, your father's conviction for embezzlement was forgotten, you were a band of brothers (I went to a single sex school, does it show?) with everyone in your year and your aim was simple: To find how fast snow had to travel to pierce the skin of someone younger than you. Once that was ascertained the next ritual was to sit shivering through lessons for the rest of the day because your clothes were all wetter than if they'd been put in the washing machine. You know that film Final Destination where the kids don't die in the plane crash and Death comes after them because he's pissed off with being cheated? We had buses with bad breaks and hills that tended not to be gritted. I cheated Death enough times going to school that I got invited to his sister's wedding and met his parents.
When you go out to work it's still the same. Will your business open and, if it does, will you get to go home early? For some reason, probably related to the way they automatically close for Christmas fortnight, most council departments decide not to bother opening when the white stuff is one the ground but libraries are expected to keep going regardless, as though people think they half-remember some old report about how the reading brain generates enough power to heat a small flat. We were due to stay open until 8:00 pm and had to wait until after lunch for the important decision from the management about whether we would shut and go home early. And it's one of those classic double binds, on the one hand we might get to finish early and go home, but on the other hand the library is better heated than my flat. Seeing as the management will go home early anyway it's never easy to guess how much they will care about the plight of their staff but in this case they let us close early. So I came home and had a warm bath.
I've wandered away from my point, whatever it was. Something to do with the sucking of snow and ice. But really, snow isn't that bad I suppose, it's when it melts and refreezes, that's the unpleasant time. I'm not looking forward to tomorrow, when the one mile gentle slope between my house and my place of work is transformed into a fiendish death-trap. I tend to end up having to take my chances walking in the road rather than on the sheet-ice pavements. Never mind these shoes for kids with wheels in the heels so as to allow the child to bend backwards, fall over and hilariously crack their skull on something sharp, the person who invents a successful shoe with a furnace underneath to allow us to burn holes in ice and so be guaranteed firm footing in snow will make a fortune.
Roll on the summer, I've already prepared my essay complaining about excessive heat and how ice cubes melt so quickly.
Labels: personal history, school, snow, weather
