http://certaintrouble.livejournal.com/ (
certaintrouble.livejournal.com) wrote in
fandomhigh2007-01-09 11:54 pm
Entry tags:
U.S. History- Wednesday 1/10- Period Three
When the students arrived, they saw papers on the desks, each one bearing a name. They were seated in alphabetical order; how new and exciting!
As the start of class drew near, the teacher was still not in the classroom. The bell rang, and there was still no one to teach. But ten seconds later, a man flew in the door. He dumped his briefcase down on the desk, and straightened his tie. He took a second to pull out a seating chart, and set it down on his desk. He assumed the look of a lecturer, eyebrows slightly raised, as if to say “listen to this, it’s interesting.”
“Hello, class. I’m Mr. Charles Noblet, and I’ll be teaching your American History class for the semester. I myself am something of a transfer student,” he smiles as if trying to connect with the kids, “only I’m a teacher. At the end of last year, there was something in the way of a horrible fire at my old school, Flatpoint. People also died.” He waves that away. “But the point is that they turned the whole place into a strip mall anyway, and the very very misguided teachers that burned that filthy den of corruption and sticky buns to the ground were never caught.” Chuck seemed to have struck upon a point. “And that’s something that I want to highlight, as we take our little jaunt through American history, because it’s essentially at the core of America. Justice and Politics. As for the former, it doesn’t exist. End of story! Politics, however, will weave their way in and around things, because they leave an indelible mark on our country. Not unlike if I pulled out a permanent marker, held you down, and wrote a big ‘ol “F” on your forehead. Someday, the ink would fade, but you’d probably have a lingering fear of the letter F from that day on. Which would do wonders for your grades. But those kinds of teaching techniques are against what America stands for, and thus also against the law, and that’s as far as I’m going with things there.”
Chuck pulled a stack of papers from his briefcase and passed them out to the class. “This is the syllabus. We’ll be starting at the beginning with Columbus, then working our way forward, glossing over the more boring wars, eventually reaching the late 20th century.
You will have homework each week. The assignments arethere for decoration listed on your syllabus, and each are due the next week, first thing. No scraping assignments together during class.
Now, I’m a bit of a tough grader, but I am fair. If your opinions are stupid, you’ll probably fail. Speaking of failing, let me warn you to keep up with your studies. Pop quizzes will be held on a periodic “whenever I feel like it” basis.
Chuck got a sour look on his face, and pointed to a young girl in the front row. “That is Matilda Wormwood. She’s my,” Chuck was barely able to force this through his gritted teeth, “teaching assistant for this class. It doesn’t make her special, or any better than the rest of you. It just means she’s good at scrabble.”
And without explaining a thing, he finished up. “So, I guess that just about wraps up class for today. Are there any questions before we part?”
OOC:Wait just a minute for the OCD is set and class shall commence!
As the start of class drew near, the teacher was still not in the classroom. The bell rang, and there was still no one to teach. But ten seconds later, a man flew in the door. He dumped his briefcase down on the desk, and straightened his tie. He took a second to pull out a seating chart, and set it down on his desk. He assumed the look of a lecturer, eyebrows slightly raised, as if to say “listen to this, it’s interesting.”
“Hello, class. I’m Mr. Charles Noblet, and I’ll be teaching your American History class for the semester. I myself am something of a transfer student,” he smiles as if trying to connect with the kids, “only I’m a teacher. At the end of last year, there was something in the way of a horrible fire at my old school, Flatpoint. People also died.” He waves that away. “But the point is that they turned the whole place into a strip mall anyway, and the very very misguided teachers that burned that filthy den of corruption and sticky buns to the ground were never caught.” Chuck seemed to have struck upon a point. “And that’s something that I want to highlight, as we take our little jaunt through American history, because it’s essentially at the core of America. Justice and Politics. As for the former, it doesn’t exist. End of story! Politics, however, will weave their way in and around things, because they leave an indelible mark on our country. Not unlike if I pulled out a permanent marker, held you down, and wrote a big ‘ol “F” on your forehead. Someday, the ink would fade, but you’d probably have a lingering fear of the letter F from that day on. Which would do wonders for your grades. But those kinds of teaching techniques are against what America stands for, and thus also against the law, and that’s as far as I’m going with things there.”
Chuck pulled a stack of papers from his briefcase and passed them out to the class. “This is the syllabus. We’ll be starting at the beginning with Columbus, then working our way forward, glossing over the more boring wars, eventually reaching the late 20th century.
You will have homework each week. The assignments are
Now, I’m a bit of a tough grader, but I am fair. If your opinions are stupid, you’ll probably fail. Speaking of failing, let me warn you to keep up with your studies. Pop quizzes will be held on a periodic “whenever I feel like it” basis.
Chuck got a sour look on his face, and pointed to a young girl in the front row. “That is Matilda Wormwood. She’s my,” Chuck was barely able to force this through his gritted teeth, “teaching assistant for this class. It doesn’t make her special, or any better than the rest of you. It just means she’s good at scrabble.”
And without explaining a thing, he finished up. “So, I guess that just about wraps up class for today. Are there any questions before we part?”
OOC:

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"No. Scrabble is outlawed in this room."
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Also, do you mind if I make Blair's seating chart pic into an icon?
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And I'm totally just stealing the Jim drawing for an icon with the bigger picture you provided a link to above. I'm not asking permission, though, because permission is for people who don't have the balls to do something on their own. At least, I assume that's Colbert's take on it.
Also, you okayed it for a couple other people, so it seems you're cool with iconage. :D
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