This is a blog created by a very opinionated guy. I hope you understand 'opinionated,' because that's all the warning you get. So, just remember, if something on this blog offends you, just LEAVE.

Thursday, April 20, 2006

"Administrator Table", My Ass

I have been loosely associated with the theatre kids at Brazoswood, to differing degrees (and to Jake's great anger), for three and a bit over one-half years.

The current crop of Blackbox Assasins spent one of those years, of course, on the ninth-grade campus. The next two, and the bit over one-half, were spent on the main campus.

For that entire time, you were able to find these people, every morning, along the wall of the cafeteria closest to the hallway, or in the theatre classroom, but that usually doesn't open until about 8.

Now, for that entire time, NO one ever had a problem with them being there. NO one said anything, not once that I remember (bear in mind, however, that I was most decidedly not always there).

At the end of the second year, over the summer, the cafeteria was redesigned. About the only thing that was left were the support pillars, and you kinda have to have those. One change was that the aforementioned wall was pushed out toward the hall a bit, and some tables were placed along it. These are not like the regular cafeteria tables, with attached stools that you can't throw or flail around during a good riot. They're regular temporary tables, like you'll find in most schools, or just about any facility that holds some type of meeting at any time. Each table has two, unattached blue chairs, holdovers from the old cafeteria.

Now, these tables are in the accustomed place of the Blackbox Assasins (I made that up on the fly. I likes it.), so I suppose it seemed natural to use them. There aren't enough chairs, but it's just as comfortable to sit with your back against the wall, and we have enough respect to not sit on the tables themselves. I mean, would you want to eat where someone else's ass has been? They (I still hesitate to say "we," as most of them rather dislike me) don't block doors, they don't cause trouble, they aren't loud, they don't break any of the written rules of the school.

This goes on, for 30-some-odd weeks of school, with no problems whatsoever. During this time, the Assasins don't mix with the rest of the students much, and that's just the way most of them like it. As I said, none of them cause any trouble, arguments are mostly internal.

Then, last week, one of the ROTC teachers, I don't know his name, I don't CARE what his name is, come in and tells us (heavily condensed conversation, combination of bits that took place over several days, and parts of which I'm guessing at. I'm really rather oblivious):

"You kids need to get off this table."
"Okay. Mind if I ask why?"
"This is an administrator table."
"Since when? We've always sat here."
"I don't know, I'm just following orders.*" *

So we got up and moved. We later found out that NO ONE cared where we sat, except apparently one person: Mr. Comeaux. He's somehow got it in his head that those are ADMINISTRATORS ONLY TABLES.

Admittedly, the AP's, and sometimes Bendict himself, sit there.... at lunch. Now, the theatre students never sat there at lunch in my memory, mostly because those tables are used for inane little Student Council functions like "Superlative Show Voting" (translation: shameless self-promotion) or "Project Graduation Information" (translation: parent-safe amusement for those too weak or frightened to amuse themselves without supervision). Now, I can understand being asked to move in the morning when there is a paper cover on the table; they can be torn easily. But let me tell you how many times I remember seeing an Administrator sitting there in the morning:

...

...

...

...

Get the picture?

They're not fucking "administrator tables", at least, not in the morning. they have never been "administrator tables," this is the first we've heard of this shyte. It is most decidedly not in any rule book I've ever seen. If they want them to themselves, they need to rope them off. They also need to stop making and attempting to enforce new rules in the middle of the year.

Allow me to also point out that most of the students they're fucking with are seniors, graduating in a bit over thirty days. Why bother? Just leave them the hell alone. They'll be gone in a month and you office-chair fascists can do whatever you please with the tables. Please,don't tell people to sit down if they're standing in a group, particularly if you just kicked them off their table. Enforce your rules yourselves, rather than foisting them off on teachers who don't care where we sit, what our hair looks like, or wether our shirts are tucked in.

It occurs to me that the theatre students in general could get in trouble for this post, so allow me to erase that possibility. If an AP reads this and wants to talk to someone about it (no one can be punished for it; isn't freedom of speech wonderful?), you can come to ME, the WRITER: Matthew B. Anderson, class of 2006, amatuer writer, decent draftsman, and constant rabble-rouser.

You can find me with the other students who still have minds of their own.





*Just a side note on that: If I ever end up saying something like that, like a good little zombie, the nearest one of you is to shoot me immediately.

Sunday, April 09, 2006

Free to a good home



I found these in the passeneger seat of my car today.

Emo glasses.

Lord knows they aren't mine, and I've no idea how they got in there, particularly seeing how my windows were closed.

Anyway, I don't want them. If any of you do, speak up now, 'cause in about a week I'm gonna crush them, and see if the screaming soul of an emo rises up from them to inhabit another innocent object, in an attempt to posess some poor fool. Don't worry, I'll tape it if it comes to that.