Posted by: stillironic | January 24, 2010

Let Me Set the Record Straight—9

Macy Tongue

What’s equally galling about the book, from an esthetic point of view, is the story isn’t even written well in colorful prose with liberal use of action verbs. No, it was written by someone whose command of language best mimics lyrics sung by, say, Toni Tennille—a style usually restricted to practitioners of the K Mart genre of romance novels.

However, as much as I would like to place the full blame for how Sitcom has made a fiasco out of my life on Smarts’s back, I can’t ignore the fact that his sensibilities and his literary judgment or lack thereof are a product of the Shaddrach public schools. How pathetic can a place be that employed alcoholics who didn’t even need to hide the fact that they were looped through the hoop by 9 a.m.

Where was the teacher-evaluation committee? Where was the administration? Where was the temperance society for godssake?

And it’s not as if you had to be a drunk at Shaddrach High to be incompetent.

There was this history teacher, Mr. Bledsoe, aka Bedsore. Pardon me, Mr. Bedsore, for interrupting your rendezvous with senility in hopes of gleaning a little something more about China than what you said in your lecture about Taiwan being the real China. Despite the fact that almost all Chinese except for a stray one or two million live in what? the fake China? which is ruled by a guy you called Macy Tongue, who, if you’ll excuse me, sounds like a department store pervert.

Bedsore gave his students the questions and answers to every test. And 97 percent of the class scored A’s. What Bedsore failed to comprehend was this practice did not promote actual LEARNING. Yet Smarts chose this deadhead, small “d” variety, as his favorite teacher and role model.

How did I know this? At our high school’s 30-year reunion some years back I read in the nauseating reunion book put together by the fascist reunion committee that Smarts had named Bedsore as the teacher who most influenced him, which made me glad that in third grade I had punched Smarts in the face and bloodied his nose, how could anyone be so dim?

© 2010 by Virginia Gerhart


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