i snuck on campus with lindsey in the morning disguised in a hoodie and sunglasses. i could have been arrested for tressopassing. kory was arrested for attempting to bring his girlfriend flowers at school on their anniversary. he ended up waiting in a jail cell packed tight with other guys as one nearly killed another, gang rivalry apparently.
ceramics and mr. Sheline were exactly the same. that man lets kids know whos got talent and whos project he might as well complete due their their inability. all the while he delivers praise. every year he commenders a few students projects in the direction of the press enterprise art show downtown. he must need the status his and his students name in the paper brings him. otherwise he wouldnt have gone to alaska and made that plaster mold out of a fish he caught.
the electoral college is ment to bore and confuse you, the whole ritualized fashion our hopeless leaders obfuscate before us has little to do with politics. politrics is walking down the street and seeing who owns what, who has and who doesnt. on the first day of ap government mr. Whelchel posed the question. "what is the role of government?" to which i immidiedtly replied "control". at the time he said no, but upon this visit he admitted it. teaching that class has radicalized him over the years, apparently politics is an off topic discussion matter with his wife. theyre not allowing him to teach ap after this year do to the point of view expressed in the classroom. i said something of myspace and lonlyness and heads turned and ears opend, eyes lit up gazing towards me. i said some little bit of truth and their mouths salivated. "public education is ment to teach you boredom and unhappiness." Whelchel agreed, admitting his wrong of telling me control was not their intent.
Art does not exist in a classroom. the more classrooms i occupy the more i wonder weather people begin to fade away the more time they spend in them. 3 years i had this asshole as a teacher, a sort of confide. an adult i was chill with, could relax with (most of the time). Ribadou did have his anger spurts when people came to class unprepared. he took it as a big "fuck you" to him, making it personal. when i came in the class he looked beat. hes had a kid since id last seen him. almost pleased though a little annoyed and kind of wondering what i wanted he greeted me. it was akward small talk. he didnt seem to excited about his kid, more displeased about his art "carreer". i wanted to tell him his child was his art, but i didnt get a chance to before he kicked me out of his room. he had so much to say about how it just seems to get worse and worse everyday, how his studentsdont care and are unprepared, and i called him on it. school fucking sucks, its not ment to be interesting, and his anger towards his students wasnt going to bring them around to start applying themselves; so i told him. Ribadou is an appartatus. he has internalized the machine with which he identifies. his life is not his art, his paintings he can't ever sell are.
what are teachers doing to the fleshy young minds of children in the class rooms? everything i know has been in response to, dependent upon, a direct result of. My experience in question, always seeking approval in the other, i have been dependent upon outside sources since my birth. 8 or more years of my life i did nothing of liesure comfort but absorb the television. clearing my thoughts, i find jingles and cartoon characters from my childhood.
jingles
and
cartoon
characters.
outside of my experience. now THATs some where special.
ceramics and mr. Sheline were exactly the same. that man lets kids know whos got talent and whos project he might as well complete due their their inability. all the while he delivers praise. every year he commenders a few students projects in the direction of the press enterprise art show downtown. he must need the status his and his students name in the paper brings him. otherwise he wouldnt have gone to alaska and made that plaster mold out of a fish he caught.
the electoral college is ment to bore and confuse you, the whole ritualized fashion our hopeless leaders obfuscate before us has little to do with politics. politrics is walking down the street and seeing who owns what, who has and who doesnt. on the first day of ap government mr. Whelchel posed the question. "what is the role of government?" to which i immidiedtly replied "control". at the time he said no, but upon this visit he admitted it. teaching that class has radicalized him over the years, apparently politics is an off topic discussion matter with his wife. theyre not allowing him to teach ap after this year do to the point of view expressed in the classroom. i said something of myspace and lonlyness and heads turned and ears opend, eyes lit up gazing towards me. i said some little bit of truth and their mouths salivated. "public education is ment to teach you boredom and unhappiness." Whelchel agreed, admitting his wrong of telling me control was not their intent.
Art does not exist in a classroom. the more classrooms i occupy the more i wonder weather people begin to fade away the more time they spend in them. 3 years i had this asshole as a teacher, a sort of confide. an adult i was chill with, could relax with (most of the time). Ribadou did have his anger spurts when people came to class unprepared. he took it as a big "fuck you" to him, making it personal. when i came in the class he looked beat. hes had a kid since id last seen him. almost pleased though a little annoyed and kind of wondering what i wanted he greeted me. it was akward small talk. he didnt seem to excited about his kid, more displeased about his art "carreer". i wanted to tell him his child was his art, but i didnt get a chance to before he kicked me out of his room. he had so much to say about how it just seems to get worse and worse everyday, how his studentsdont care and are unprepared, and i called him on it. school fucking sucks, its not ment to be interesting, and his anger towards his students wasnt going to bring them around to start applying themselves; so i told him. Ribadou is an appartatus. he has internalized the machine with which he identifies. his life is not his art, his paintings he can't ever sell are.
what are teachers doing to the fleshy young minds of children in the class rooms? everything i know has been in response to, dependent upon, a direct result of. My experience in question, always seeking approval in the other, i have been dependent upon outside sources since my birth. 8 or more years of my life i did nothing of liesure comfort but absorb the television. clearing my thoughts, i find jingles and cartoon characters from my childhood.
jingles
and
cartoon
characters.
outside of my experience. now THATs some where special.
To increase the tax base. Invade foreign countries to force open their markets so that we can extract raw materials and cheap labor. But ultimately, more trade in $$s makes Brother Uncle happy.
Our peers are always the ones who end up really challenging us.