fandomhigh | Journalism Class - Monday September 26, 2005

Professor Jerusalem looks old and cranky this morning - or as old and cranky as you can get at the ripe old age of 35. The cat is again playing beneath his desk, this time with something that it probably wouldn't pay to examine too closely.

The Professor is poking somewhat suspiciously at what looks like a perfectly ordinary sandwich.

On the screen behind him is the following message:

Announcement:

I don't want to talk about it. At all. I don't want to hear it, either. Foodstuffs of any kind and the shambling undead are both totally verboten subjects.

Instead, I want to hear about your thoughts as to the student elections - unrelated to the homework assignment. If you must gossip and chatter, let's stick to actual school business. Please.

ALSO: This professor has made it his life's work to make politicians live up to their promises or put them through an un-ending living Hell and will most likely be encouraging his students to do the same. Tomorrow we will discuss 'Monstering'. With inappropriate glee and possibly illustrations.

Political Hopefuls - Beware

Edit: For the benefit of my students, this helpful list of student gov't hopefuls courtesy of

dbiers

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"Yeah. My friend Marty is, like, all into his campaign, and it's great for him, but..." Angela shrugs. "I just don't think anybody except the winners will even care in six months. Even if someone did have really good ideas, it's not like the staff would ever put them into practice."

George suddenly remembers seeing the posters in the dorm. "Isn't Marty going for something like, Class Security Guard? I don't think that's in the same lame league as class president. I mean, he isn't running around going 'If you vote for Marty, all your wildest dreams will come true.' He's saying 'If you vote for Marty, you'll have a better-than-average chance of surviving the school year.'"

Angela nods; George has a point. "Yeah, it probably is, like, a less useless position than most of them, if he actually does get to do anything with it. But I'm still not a fan of the whole thing."

"Well, if I decide that voting is worth the effort to get out of bed, I'll vote for Marty." George pauses to take a sip of coffee. "Well. Probably. I suppose if it came down to it, he seems more than capable of killing nuisances dead."

"I'll tell him the campaigning is working," Angela says, half-smiling and thinking if she only knew... "And, um, yeah, he's a useful person to have around here."

George stars at Angela shrewdly. "You like Marty, don't you? I mean, like like him. Because if you don't, you're sure doing a good impression of someone who does."

Angela blushes and twirls a piece of hair, not sure why she's so embarrassed by the attention. "We're, um, sort of dating. I mean, it's new, but I kind of called him my boyfriend over the weekend, and we're going to homecoming together. So ... yes."

"Congratulations and good luck," George says cynically. "He seems like a really nice guy. Tolerably cute. If it wasn't in my nature to be antisocial and awkward, I'd totally hit that."

She props her chin on her hand and sighs. "So the theme for Homecoming is Come As Your Aren't. What 'aren't you' going as?"

Angela gives George a sidelong look, but the girl's manner makes her decide that jealousy would be more than usually pointless.

"Homecoming costumes? Kind of a long story. Um, you know that girl Rory? She and her date and me and Marty -- and Marty's pet chicken -- are going to be the Breakfast Club. I have to be Molly Ringwald. It's the hair."

[OOC: Don't worry about it, I'm kind of queen of typos.]

George gives Angela a little smirk. "And I bet Marty is going to be Bender, right? Apt."

She takes another sip of her coffee and makes a face when she finds it's gone tepid. "I don't know if I'm going to Homecoming. I don't have a date. Anyway, it's sorta not my thing. You know, crowds of people, music... dancing." She shudders. "Definitely not my thing."

Angela rolls her eyes a little at the Bender comment. She hadn't thought the costumes were that predictable...

"It's usually not my thing, either," Angela says, and shrugs. "But there doesn't seem to be much to do at this school outside the big sanctioned activities, unless you count getting wasted, which is really not my thing. And I guess lately I'd rather be bored in a crowd of people than be bored sitting in my room."

[OOC: I am so happy Angela has another cynic to play with, even though I don't know Dead Like Me beyond the premise.]

"Have you ever bothered to turn on a television in this place? There are about a million channels. I don't think I could ever get bored with television ever again. Last night I was watching a Big Brother marathon, except in this version of the game, eviction means death." George leans back in her seat and gives a blissful sigh. "Now those are people who know how to take their reality TV seriously."

"I don't think I've ever seen reality TV," Angela says. "I'm not actually sure I want to." She pauses, frowns. "Do you mean, like, death death? Onscreen?"

((OOC: And I can't type today. Please ignore and/or forgive my numerous mistakes this a.m. I'm really not that bad in RL.))

If you vote for Marty, you'll have a better-than-average chance of surviving the school year.

[OOC: I think I just found my campaign slogan.]

((OOC: *grins* I think it's the perfect blend of cynicism and realism.))

"How terribly cynical." Spider grinned at her maniacally. "I'm a firm believer in people having to live with the consequences of their voting choices, personally - no matter how painful." He paused and corrected himself. "Especially if it's painful."

"Okay, Angela says, and seems to stop there, but then:

"So you're saying that, if Marty was elected, and one of his decisions was that everyone on campus needed to know how to shoot a gun, you and Connor would let him set up lessons at the shooting range or whatever? Because that is not how it worked at my old school. At all."

Spider's grin grew positively evil. "If that's what he says and he gets into office? I have no doubt of it at all."

It's kind of annoying to have a good self-righteous rant deflated, and Angela's face shows that.

"All right. And, like, for the record? I don't know that he is saying that."

George smothers a grin. Despite her best efforts, she sorta-kinda-almost actually likes the Professor. Even if he is a Fucking Bastard.

Well, probably because he's a Fucking Bastard.

Journalism Class - Monday September 26, 2005

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