One Hour, ten minutes and Counting down

It's my fifth day at Robert Hill Middle School and I am sure the kids are itchin to be gone on sprin break. I am itching to get home but not glad that sprin break is here, since I can't work when they are not in school. I am hot tired and harried. I have endured a litle over five hours of screaming children and juvenile cajoling for things a teacher wouldn't normally give them. The last class shall feel my wrath.
I was watching college hoops last night and I really feel for the kid on the Kansas St. team who traveled with 1.8 seconds to go to give Colorado the ball back in position to hit the winning basket. I am sure if I had played college ball something similar would have happened.
I am desperately thirsty. :-p

Day 4 of the Robert Hill Experiment

Yesterday I stayed late to prevent a school yard bully from pounding one of my students into a pulp when he disembarked from his bus. The principal eventually took pity on him and drove him home. I hope to have the issue resolved today.
This morning I got to school early, for only the second time in my teaching career. It was odd. I hung out briely in the teacher's lounge and eavesdropped on the conversation there: "A hundred ad sixty dollars a week for daycare! I am in the wrong business. If I didn't hate kids so much I'd start a daycare." Teachers have a interesting way of querying whose class a substitute is working in: "Who are you today?"; "He's been Ms. Soandso all week now." Subbing is nothing if not entertaining.

Day 3 of The Robert Hill Experiment

On my morning stroll from the bus stop this morning I saw a middle school girl pursued through a residential neighborhood by a police officer. I kept right on truckin'. I have since learned to ignore the protestations of young children. I am wondrously well fed today, bright-eyed, and bushy-tailed. I want to say because certain of my readers feel slighted (my roommate) that my hunger this week has bee a result of poor planning on my part. I could eat better if I'd just think ahead.
I think I am beginning to really understand how to control a classroom, which now that I have said that guarantees my seventh period class will be an absolute madhouse. Teachers in Dallas public schools displine children with threats, detention, extra homework, and referrals to the principals office. I used to write lots of referrals but I understand that referrals are like a police officer's gun. One is doing a ood job when he doesn't need to use it.

Robert Hill Middle School Day 2

If I was any more tired and hungry I think I would die. I ate sumptuously at my paren't house last night, but didn't sleep till round 2 AM this morning. I got up at 7:00 AM (late as usual) and rushed out the door. I did manage to eat a bowl of cereal in the 35 minutes it took me to shower and dress, but I feel just the same as if I had skipped breakfast. I think next time I'l have to find something higher calorie. Lunch will be worse. I didn't have the foresight to check what was available last night and all I could find in the freezer this morning were frozen non-microwavable beef pot pies. Not good at all. I can see I have a looong day ahead of me.

Bobby Knight

He's an ornery cuss, but I think one has to respect him.

Back to School

It's an odd time to be going back to school (it is the week before spring break) but I haven't substituted since Thanksgiving and it actually feels good to be doing it again. I had reams of substantive writing to do but for the life of me I can't remember what about.
My biggest worry currently is vanity. This whole model thing is going to my head. It is increasingly difficult to be objective about how I look when the job entails people constantly telling me how good I look. I must say however that I am drop dead gorgeous.
My next biggest worry is food. It would be a little easier if had money and other people weren't always buying my food but alas, I dine on my roommates supply of Snack Ramen which is very nutritious indeed. (70% of the recommended daily value for cholestrol and no protein or vitamins!) I ate a granola bar for breakfast and for lunch I grabbed a Michelina's brand microwave dinner. YUM! Maintaining a healthy diet is going to be a challenge to say the least.
This blog post was brought to you courtesy of Jesse D. Barnes who provided me with transportation to this substituting assignment.

Sudden Insight

I came to the realization the other day that I am completely for the death penalty in principle but I would have great difficulty ever administering it in our current legal system. I belive that no one should ever be convicted of a crime and punished unless there is no doubt that he is guilty. The people or person deciding should be certain that he and no one else commited the crime. Yet we not only send people who are innocent to jail, we also execute them. Obviously, something is fundamentally wrong with our system. I believe what is wrong is that the courts have passed the point of information saturation and reached a point of information irrelevance and disinformation. Technology has advanced so far that we are able to collect thousands of pieces of data, but sadly the ability of the decision makers to parse the data has not kept stride. Courts often call in experts but usually in the form of expert witnesses. These witnesses have been called because they will support one side of the case. In the end judges and jurors are left to choose not based on evidence but on credibilty or from the preponderance of data presented by one side which is really a function of resources. That is to say, the side with the most money wins.
The adversarial system of law is broken. It is engineered to produce justice from competion. Two sides compete and it is hoped that justice will prevail. Justice cannot prevail unless the competitors are competing to ensure justice. Lawyers now compete only to win. This leaves judges and jurors to sort out the mess wiht fewer resources than the lawyers. What is needed is limits for expenditure by either side in civil and criminal preceedings and no limits on what can be spent by judges to illuminate the case using impartial expertise. Power needs to be taken from the combatants and given to the referee. Bingo! Justice is served.

My Plan for my Life

I am very carefully considering various career options and my problem is that too many paths lie before me and no impetus pushing me toward one or the other.
• I could teach. It would be hugely rewarding; I’d be giving back to the community and I like dealing with children. The downside is that I don’t want to teach very long (two years at most).
• I could join the military. It would be cool in that I could have a job title that included the word “badass”. I could learn Mandarin Chinese, practice kung fu, shoot big guns, learn covert ops, wear a uniform, pick up chicks, get money to go back to school, and travel the world. The fine print is that any job title that included the word “badass” in it would also have an increased likelihood of getting shot by a guy named “Fahd” who hates all American bastards (maybe I could tell him I’m Nigerian?) or I could just suffer one of any number of horrible fates like the ones we see in the movies (getting vaporized, tortured, dismembered, maimed, poisoned, stabbed, crushed, or beaten). All the while, I’d live by strict rules with people who (by many accounts) are mostly idiots and answer to men who tell me that my name is “Maggot”.
• I could continue to look for a job programming. The upside is that I really like programming. So much so, that on several occasions I ended up doing other people’s school programming projects for the sheer hell of it. (I used to lock myself in my bedroom and write code into the wee hours of the morning, decide the code wasn’t good enough, throw it away and start over the next day.) The downside is that the market is tight and employers are only hiring people with Masters degrees, years of experience, or perfect 4.0 GPA’s to go along with their undergraduate Computer Science degrees. I have none of those things. (I do have a degree but it turns out all the job applicants do and I am not special. I want to be special!)
• I could go back to school. I like hanging out there and everybody’s doing it. I could get a degree in literature and try for a higher GPA this time around. I could try out again for soccer, (the very thought makes my feet itch) prepare for grad school, get a teaching certificate, maybe even brush up on my Spanish. The downside is that I am already approaching 24 in June. I would be in danger of becoming a career student.
So there you have it. I’d say that I am at a fork in the road but really I think it looks like spokes on a wheel. All of them lead in completely different paths and I keep trying to do all of them. It’s enough to make a guy crazy.
P.S. if You're reading this Jen, Yes, I stole the last two posts from an email I wrote you. It's a bad habit which I promise to quit when I stop writing email at 4 am.

I Hate The UN Because

1. Every country in the world is a member. Saddam Hussein and Slobodan Milosevic murdered thousands of their countrymen yet neither Iraq nor Yugoslavia had its membership suspended. These countries were allowed to send representatives despite obvious despotism and corruption.
2. America pays for everything. This is bad because other countries have no incentive to cooperate and no stake in the outcome. People always learn to resent those who give them the most money. People DO bite the hand that feeds them.
3. The UN never acts. The solution is always more conversation, diplomacy, treaties, and inaction disguised as international cooperation. The organization is a SHAM. People died in Africa because Kofi Annan wouldn’t intervene in Angola. (Ironic, since he is African.) People died in Yugoslavia. People are dying in Iraq and will die in large numbers if Saddam is not eliminated. I have no confidence in the UN to stand up and act when action is necessary. Justice has no friends at the UN. Other countries use the UN as an extended platform for national politics and a forum to shout down the “ugly Americans”. The UN is an organ of ridicule, a “whited sepulcher”, an anachronism. I hate the UN.

Weekend

Weekends, weekdays - they are all the same to me now. Well, other than the fact that on the weekends my roommates are home. Friday night I suffered great embarassment in the name of friendship. I am hoping that my experience strenghtens my hand in the ongoing friendly verbal skirmish. I have the sneaking suspicion that it won't as much as I had hoped. Certain people refused to be ashamed.
I am a little ashamed. Someone gave Walt and me expensive tickets to the Stars game last night, featuring no less than a hockey demi-god, Mario Lemiuex. I had the temerity to doze off. I thought it was a wonderful game and I am a Stars fan. I just find it difficult to get worked up over anything less than playoff hockey. It just doesn't seem to mean a lot and I barely understand the game to begin with. :-p
About those pictures, I should post them sooner or later. I know ya'll are just dying to see them.

Get your Idaho Posters!

I just got this CD delivered to my doorstep. On it are 10 high resolutions photographs of me. These pictures are literally big enough to make posters from. At the same time I have three envelopes full of prints from another photo shoot done with me as the subject. I am very quickly piling up a lot of pictures of me. I think I am going to decorate my next apartment with photographs of me. It will be the ultimate statement in narcissism. I know what you are saying... that you want to see. (Oh wait, you're also asking me how I could be that conceited. It's easy you should try sometime.) The pictures that I really like are also really huge. I need webspace to post them. The others are smaller and I could post them but I am lazy and it's time for me to workout and it's approaching 12:30 AM. So I am going to leave you in suspense and I am going to go lift some weights.

I am back for the first time

Is it actually required that the titles I put on these posts actually have anything to do with what I write? I am very quickly running out of title ideas, nearly as quickly as the school children and workplace malingerers are running out of "snow day" excuses. The beautiful white ice on the ground is turning to an unattractive brown slush (well I suppose parents and frustrated managers might think that brown is a wonderful color) while children and frustrated workers weep that their unexpected winter holiday comes to an end. I have a definite job interview Friday and another Saturday. I saw Trent from the soccer team today at Express. The man was only the linchpin of the UTD defense and maybe the best player. Living where I do is actually comforting because I see UTD people quite often. I don't feel so out of my element or off balance when I am seeing familiar faces. What bothers me though are the people who I remember well enough to clearly identify as UTD students but can't remember their names. The problem is that I literally never forget a face but can't always match a name to that face because I never learned it the first time. People whose names I remember get the "glad reunion" treatment - name yelled at the top of my lungs, "How you doing? Graduated yet? No, I am looking for a job now...". People usually look startled, quickly glance around, smile, speak the customary chit-chat, and sometimes girls hug. (While I am on the subject of hugs, I have to say that I really miss getting hugs everyday. I got into the habit because one can never feel anything but better after a good hug. I think I have had maybe five hugs in a year since. I am experiencing serious withdrawal.) Sometimes you exchange phone numbers, (I never remember to ask for one. I think people feel insulted and never call for that reason, or maybe people think I am lame and really don't want to hang out with me but don't want to hurt my feelings. Take your pick.) and then you leave and try not to bump into them again. At least I do, because I really have nothing to say after the first time and I don't want to look like a stalker. Maybe, if I could get a pen and a pad and just write my conversations with people in awkward situations I'd feel more at ease. Actually speaking the words I write in my head to someone I haven't spoekn to in a year is uncomfortable.
You know, this has been a Seinfield post. A lot of verbiage produced with no significant topic in mind. I just sat down and recored for posterity a big fat jumble of words with the nutritional benefit of a cinammon bun. I'd say more about politics and world events but I am about tapped out on the issues of the moment. I have Iraq fatigue and Korea ennui. The endless babble of European diplomats demanding more time for a peaceful solution has exhausted my capacity for patience and attention. I could go on about the amazing feats of Michael Jordan's apparent successor in the hearts and minds of basketball fans everywhere, but what I could I really add that hasn't already been said. It's times like these that make you think, "Wow I just rambled on for an hour writing a post that six people will read for ten minutes, and it is now nearly midnight and you wanted to watch that simply shocking movie From Hell (warrants the adjective 'ill') so maybe it's time for people like me to actually try to get some sleep at night."

Sudden Insight

My beef with movie critics specifically and critics of the arts in general is that the criticism is unworthy. It is one thing to be criticized by a teacher of the art or someone who at the very least is capable of doing similar work, but to see something criticized by someone who is merely a lover of the form leaves me cold. Music critics should be musicians; film critics, film makers; and art critics, artists. Literary critics in general are writers themselves, (especially since writing a coherent critique requires writing skill) so on the whole I find literary reviews to be more relevant. The problem is that film makers are supposedly very bad at critiquing another filmmaker's work, even musicians have albums they are ashamed to admit to owning, and every artist I have ever heard talk about any supposed work of art is relentlessly and stultifyingly positive about even the most uninspired works. Literary criticism has the curious advantage of being a critique in the same medium as the work delivered. Not possible with say... a review of the latest Shania Twain album.

Trekking in a Wintry Texan Landscape

Anyone driving north on Interstate 75 around 11:40 PM might have noticed three men running on the icy field toward the underpass. Had you seen them you might have murmured to yourself under your breath, "What idiots!". I was one of those "idiots". The two idiots accompanying me were my roommates, Walt and Jesse.
We woke up fairy early this morning, considering the hijinks of the night before, and decided that the depravations of the previous night were not enough. Work was forsaken, (Well for the most part, I don't actually have a job and one roomie did go to work after discovering he was the only one of his colleagues not already in attendance; however, he rarely ever accompanies us) and we began to cast about for what we should do. Walt, that ever flowing fount of mischief, discovered that public transportation in our native metropolis was free. Immediately, he and I decided to go as far away as we could for free. Going far entailed going to Fort Worth again.
We quickly threw together some supplies and very nearly skated over the icy roads (the experience was exactly like skating for me since I was in fear of falling nearly every step of the way) to the nearest mall, Collin Creek. I proceeded to hand-deliver nine job applications I had toiled over the previous day while the others bought food. We caught the trolley to the train station and first rode north away from our destination after watching the train headed south leave as we disembarked from the trolley. (It is a rule carved in stone that any long journey invloving we three must involve some backtracking.)
The journey south got off to an inauspicious start when a DART employee stopped the train just shy of the station and attempted to pry the doors open. They didn't budge at all. Several attempts were made until finally were told to switch trains two stops down from our starting point. We spent the rest of the time reading magazines and playing card games that Walt attempted to teach us. I say "attempted" since it appears that Walt never properly learned them himself.
In Fort Worh, we boarded a bus headed toward TCU only to be delayed when we witnessed the bus - in suuuuuuuuuuper slow motion - hit a parked vehicle. In the minute it took the bus to slide sideways toward the Mitsubishi Montero on the side of the road, the general consensus on the bus was: barring a miracle, the owner of the Montero would soon be the proud owner of two and a half tons of scrap. Do you believe in miracles? A miracle saved the Montero from serious damage. As if by magic,the driver was able to straighten a bus that had been sliding sideways toward the disabled vehicle so that it was parallel. It was only nearly parallel. The accident was significant enough to warrant a police report, so we were delayed at least another forty-five minutes. We got off the bus on the TCU campus and actually ate the simply wonderful cafeteria offal catered by Marriot with a few friendly coeds. We even made time for a short campus tour.
The highlights of the rest of the journey were my victory over Walt at chess at a coffee shop (while Jesse explained I should have beaten him within the first four moves), Our frenzied search for an entrance to the train station as the last train from Fort Worth for the entire day made ready to leave, and the aforementioned romp through the snow by the idiots three.

Snow in Dallas!

There is something about seeing the world covered in an inch of white stuff that does things to the mind of children everywhere - especially children over the age of 21. Kids might throw some snowballs or build a snowman. An apartment full of young men is a hotbed of dangerous machismo, overflowing testosterone, and outrageous pranks. Men my age tend to have guns, alcohol, fireworks, gadgets, and silly ideas in abundance. It's not that small children don't have silly ideas, they just lack the means to carry them out. My roommates and I on the other hand...
I wanted to say something about this Iraq mess. Please can we invade them soon and just get it over with for crying out loud? Prolonging the process is cruel and dangerous. We are not helping the Iraqi people with our sanctions or by leaving the cruel meglomaniac in charge. War would almost be a mercy at this point. In fact, I think that sanctions are cruel and war is merciful by comparison for the same reason I think it is better to spank a child than it is to ground him. Prolonged punishment doesn't do more to correct the fault but it does cause the person punished to hate you. The shortest possible punishment is always the most merciful. I'd like all the peaceniks out there to ask themselves how many children have died as a result of sanctions compared to how many would die in a war? (With America's precise weaponry the numbers are actually comparable if Sadaam doesn't use the human shield strategy.)

Sundaaay Mooooorning!

Ok so it's actually Sunday afternoon, but I wanted to make the reference for those who would understand it. I need to find somebody to write a letter of recommendation for my Teach For America application should my letter of intent or my essay impress them enough. (which is doubtful and my academic record will definitely not impress them)
You know I had a Sudden Insight I wanted to post but I can't remember it anymore. The world will just have to do with that particular nugget of wisdom.

A Beautiful Saturday Morning

What do I have planned? I dunno. But somehow I think that is ok today.

What's a Rack Daddy?

A country that America may start bombing soon.
There are those who say we should take care of Bin Laden first. These people are absolutely right. There are those who say we should address North Korea first. These people will get no argument from me on that point. The problem is we can't. The government knows about as much about Osama Bin Laden's whereabouts as I know about the new Levi Jeans that I haven't been able to find since I moved. (If you find a pair of low rise 34x34 Levis I will give you 5 bucks to bring them back, seriously...) North Korea either has nukes or is close enough that, civillians in Seoul, South Korea would glow green at night should we even threaten retailation. A fight in North Korea would be a civillian blood bath of the worst kind that the United States is desperately trying to avoid, especially since the kiddies would be upset when the electronic goodies for their Playstations and Walkmans burn to a crisp in the mortar fire.
We can stop Iraq from reaching North Korea's postion of power. I am surprised that no one else has noticed that North Korea has by the family jewels. The media should be having a field day with this.

STILL ILL

This whole extended bed rest thing is for the birds. I think I am the victim of a nasty sinus infection. My head and not just my nasal passages are full of ugly, yellow mucus. YUM!!

I am Ill

I would like to think that I am "ILL" in the same sense of the word used by Kid Rock, The Beastie Boys, and their ilk; but I know I am "ill" in the other sense of the word. I have been that way since Thursday night I think. It's funny - not exactly sure when.
I need help chosing what to watch next from my roommates' DVD collection. I have actually watched most of the movies that I care to see already. I am stumped.
I think that since I am home now I should take advantage and get back to work on my movie scripts. I even have new ideas for one I started a while ago and never finished. (Not like I have finished any of them....)