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Tomorrow's AssholesTeaching is not a task to be undertaken lightly. I understand this. I have enormous respect for those stalwart individuals who so often delve into the realms of science and math so rarely tread upon by those outside of the classrooms in which they work. I mean... how many of you can still recite the atomic number of any particular noble gas without referring to the chart? Hands down, folks. That was rhetorical. Now, I wanted to get my disclaimer out there beforehand because what you are about to read could easily be interpreted as absolute misanthropy, a crime to which I'd be loathe of connection. The fact is, sadly, that it doesn't take long for a human mind to become scrambled; teachers are not excluded. Some teachers have worked in conditions ripe for such a result for so long that little is left of the human behind those ubiquitous bechained spectacles. Ladies and gentlemen, their brains get broken. Now, we are living in an age in which technology has seeped into every orifice, pocket and pore of our civilization. People who have been teaching for the past thirty years come from a different era indeed. I don't blame them for this. This is where I step in. I am a technology specialist paraprofessional. I work for my local board of education. The specifics of my job are hard to describe, as it is a very task-oriented position. The most basic explanation is that I refer to a "media specialist" (those who come from the ancient days of books know them as "librarians") to whom complaints of technological problems have been referred. Task list in hand, I sweep from room to room leaving a trail of resolved issues in my wake. Now that I've glazed over that for which I have no blame, let us move on to that for which I have nothing but blame. I blame you, teachers, for the following: 1. If you've had me sent to your room to fix a printer (which simply will not work) and I discover that you've neglected to apply plug to outlet, rest assured that I blame you. I am dispatched largely to deal with non-tangible issues which gum up or stop software from working. Power cords have been in pretty wide use for several decades now, and there is simply no excuse for not checking there first. Your mysterious old-lady-'fro didn't materialize upon your head like a blue-grey fungus; you put it there with a curler. This leads me to believe that this particular piece of technological wonder is indeed within your grasp... so fucking grasp it and stick it in the damn wall. 2. I heartily blame you if you send in a complaint reading as follows: "The computer doesn't work." Though this is a very finely detailed breakdown of your very specific troubles, I find that the case is frequently that your computer works just fine and that you are actually having a problem with a particular piece of software. I find it equally frequent that I have already been sent in here several times before to explain to you that I am powerless to troubleshoot certain applications due to their interaction with the network. Either take the appropriate steps to deal with it (which I have detailed for you), or do without it. Stop wasting my time; I could be spending it to plug in a few printers, after all. 3. I have purest, heartfelt blame for you if, when I walk into your classroom to fix a problem, you leap upon me with a wordy explanation of your difficulties. Let me make this clear to you: I did not walk into this room randomly. I did not wander in aimlessly. I already know what the problem is, and that is why I am here in the first place. By taking the several minutes to tell me what I already know or, worse, attempting to show me the problem by reproducing it on the offending machine, you are once again wasting my time. Furthermore, you are depriving tomorrow's assholes of your enormous intellect. Shame on you. Candall's back....back again...... I've been debating with myself whether or not I wanted to drag myself back to the "create content" link after finally getting away from the hell of groceryland. Well, after all... what's a cynic to do? Panshea is hanging in there. He's been promoted since his days in the sand started, and he's even coming stateside for the bulk of October, during which he'll be playing best man at my wedding. "Furthermore, you are depriving tomorrow's assholes of your enormous intellect. Shame on you." I'm adding that to my favorite quotes. :) Epic. Continue as you will your uniquely serrated assault on the sheepery faction. We are, after all, guerrila fighters in a war of minds - and more importantly, especially as related to the fact that you work in schools - FOR minds. It makes me wonder: If a large enough group acts like sheep, is it really countable as misanthropic to be - perhaps unwittingly - the wolf of clarity? Baaaaaah. "The Wolf of Clarity." ...Nice. Sounds like it could be a tarot card. I wish that I could claim my pursuit to be more noble. Honesty overrides valor all too frequently with yours truly, so I must confess that it's no concern of mine if tomorrow's generation is just as stupid as today's (and they're on the fast-track). My preoccupation is in finding ways to make them leave me alone. It's not working out. See? I always said that you couldn't quit complaining for more than a week or so, and good thing too. Once again your poetic expression of "the rage" has suffused my being and made the hurt subside, if only a little. HI Cranky!! So unbelievably flattered to see that you can even remember the likes of me in the wake of Candall's malcontent So off to the planning. See you soon. How could I forget??? The drama that went on over your posts and those God awful spiders......blech. Are you trying to hint that there might be little Candall's in the near future? Can we call them Candles? Having returned to the geographical origin point of said youth has taken its toll on me. When you come back, I'm eager to see if you recognize the return of the lunatic spark that burned me down to what I've become. As for future documentation of your own brand of workforce frustration, you may rest assured that I'll be posted at the ready with sniper rifle in hand and a case of bullets which shall be anxious for the company of any short-lived insects who may wander into the vicinity. Of course, I can't make any promises where my aim is concerned until after Labor Day. Between getting pulled around and about the state and getting myself completely inverted with beverage, this is shaping up to be a restless vacation indeed. Hey...I'm not saying it's impossible. There already is (as of 3 months ago) a little Panshea. You can call him a block off the old chip (on my shoulder.) As for a smaller version of dear brother...It is rather approaching that time, isn't it Candall? So how are you broad? Any advances in the career track lately? -J- If it should happen within the year, then you can bet that it'll be an event worthy of documentation by someone of the likes of Wes Craven, John Carpenter or even Quentin Tarantino. Or maybe the "Supersize Me" guy. It would be that fucking scary for me to have spawn. On the lighter side of child-rearing, you'll be happy to learn (if you've not already) that young Panshea Jr. was evidently a big hit at the future Mrs. Candall's bridal shower. Or maybe it was "Miss Crandle." The heat has a rather absurd effect on my higher brain functions these days, and memory was never my playing field anyway. I had heard as much about the boy. Bravo to him, I should say. Crawling be damned, my son is teaching himself the way of the fairer sex FIRST! Which inevitably means that I'll be having some gruelingly tough times in about 15 years. At least...it better not be BEFORE 15 years. So...are you insinuating that the littlest Pan may have a playmate in the making by 2006? Should I call Quentin now, or shall I wait? Oh, and by the by, here's an interesting little tidbit about my job...apparantly, all the power over here is 220V...which all of my other gear is compatible with. Guess what isn't? That's right, I had my GameCube for all of 20 minutes when I foolishly plugged it into the wall socket without a step-down and created a miniature IED of my very own. On the bright side, I now have the Super Smash Brothers disc permanantly embedded into my left cheek. Amazing how those little buggers fly when propelled by exploding Nintendo. -J- Your Gamecube blew up? It's unusable now? Oh, dude... that SUCKS. As for offspring, there's much to do before such plans fall into effect. Mostly, we have to save up a shitload of money. Besides, I was lead to believe your job at the Diploma Meat Grinding Factory(tm) was some sort of super paying, low hour deal. Something about getting to work with your favorite people (computers) for most of the day. Have you spoken to your betrothed about the ever-encroaching baby deadline? After all, your biological clocks are doing what they do best (gaining weight and losing hair) and you can't wait too late or whatnot. Besides, after how quickly Miss. Candall-to-be slammed you with a date after your engagement, it seems to me that she's the one actually in control of he decision making process. Maybe I should ask her? -J- |
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