August 14th, 2009 20:12 EST
School Thug Life (Part 2)
1) In Intercultural studies class, the lard bucket teacher who can barely see his goods before the uranium poses a seemingly galaxy shaking question Do you believe in revenge, my slaves? "Everyone hums and mumbles something about righteousness, God, The Day Of Judgment, nerves etc and etc." And then, as if on purpose and fully aware of my laconic nature, the laid back servant of the fire of knowledge that he seems to fuel with his nonsense every time, looks at me and nods his seventh chin as if to know what I think.
There can be no question about the answer I hock his way like a baseball down a suffering bat. Revenge? Sure. "That was supposed to be the end of it, my release from his racist grasp, but the hump on the teacher`s swollen belly suddenly shivers like a bowl of jelly and disgorges a counterargument to my lawful answer based on a God given right to free speech and opinion that seems to lose meaning in those white lime walls. But, that`s the Old Testament! An eye for an eye!"
"Time is of the essence and is always against me like in the Matrix. But in this Matrix, I own all the keys and guard all the doors as I raise my eyes from the doodles in my 96/100 marked test booklet and lock gazes with the servant of the fire before giving my final answer. For an eye, I`ll reap the whole carcass."
2) I remember it like it was yesterday, a hellraising class of Intercultural Studies with my nemesis, the morbidly obese worshipper of the fire of knowledge. It was the second in a long line of forty sessions that semester through which I had to endure the prior`s incantations about the benefits of prostitution and the immense satisfaction that one gets from cowardice and running from a fight. I shall tell you, my dear reader, of these immoral rituals that plagued my mind, another time, for now, I must recount that fateful day.
"Like poker player with a deck of fifty one, the practitioner of the dark arts sat himself at the table and pulled out his omnipresent tape recorder before announcing to his slew of thirty victims I will be recording these lectures for use next year."
As if despising him for such greed and feeling sorry for the next generation that will have to endure this lesson of perverted immorality, I look up at the wannabe teacher and ask him Can I bring my own recorder?
"Suddenly growing red like a splashed tomato, the prior peers his incinerating gaze at me and bellows out Of course not! No one is allowed to record my words! " But I do not lose myself, for I have an answer ready and stab it out like a Spear of Destiny I`m not gonna record your words. I`m gonna record what I say on these lectures."
School Thug Life (PART 1)