Modern-Day Myths, Wednesday

[toteshammered.livejournal.com]

When the students entered the classroom today, they would each find a neatly folded piece of paper on their desks. Thor waited a minute before speaking to ensure that everyone had time to read the letters.

"What you have just received is something called a 'chain letter'," he explained. "Although currently they are more frequently sent and received via email correspondence, originally they were passed around via the postal system. As you can see, they typically rely on the manipulation of one's emotions to perpetuate the chain. In addition to fear, chain letters may also appeal to our sense of love, or desire for material gain, claiming that if you do not pass on the letter, you may never find your soulmate, will be financially unlucky, or some other equally dire fate. Some letters even go as far as to request that the recipient supply the sender with payment, should they wish to protect themselves from bad luck. In fact, one of the earliest chain letters, originating in 1935 in the American state of Colorado, was one such letter." He paused to offer his students a reassuring smile. "In case you are concerned, you needn't fear that 'breaking the chain' will have any ill effect on your well-being. These letters are pure superstition with no basis in truth whatsoever."


"Knowing this, do you feel at all compelled to pass on the letter?" Thor asked. "If it appealed to another emotion, would that impact your decision?"

[content warning for the link, which contains descriptions of creepy ghost murders in typical horror-chain-letter fashion.]

Friendship is Cakes!!, Wednesday, period 3

[locointhecoco]

Observant students might eventually note that they could work out clues about the class's theme of the week by looking at Pinkie Pie's outfits.

Today, for instance, she had on a jaunty blue winter hat and scarf and mismatched knee socks, in which she was gleefully sliding back and forth in front of the chalkboard. One might conclude from this display that she had a wintery theme planned. Or that she was a crazy person.

Both of these would be accurate.

Though, to be accurate, she was a crazy pony. So. (You say that like ponies aren't people. SPECIESIST.)

Derek was looking up at the ceiling as though it would explain to him why he was there. Where his life had made that wrong turn into insanity. "The theme today is snow."

There. Suspense killed.

"Eeeee!" Pinkie agreed, sliding by. "We have lots of coconut and powdered sugar and blue things to make snowy scenes on your cakes with!"

Derek put out a hand to stop her lest she end up hitting the demonstration cake on the desk behind him. How did he hide that from view? He wasn't even that broad! Oh god, he'd been spending too much time with Pinkie Pie, hadn't he?

You spelled "enough time" wrong.

It was an impressive trick! Pinkie was so proud of his showmanship! Also of that cake. That was a damn fine cake.

Damn right it was.

"There are cakes to experiment on with the materials," Derek said, still holding Pinkie in place. "You're taking them home with you after."

"You can share them with all your friends!" Pinkie cheered, not in the least bit put off by being held in place. She was even still sliding her hooves about as though she were still skating around. "And that's what friendship is all about!"

Because someponies apparently needed explanations of the purposes of things.

Mad Kings & Queens: Raving Royals and How To Survive Them (Wednesday, 2nd Period)

[atreideslioness]

When the bell rang, Ghanima did a quick head-count to see who was still there and who had dropped before beaming brightly at the class. "Looks like I didn't scare off too many of you," she teased, blue-on-blue eyes crinkling in mirth. "So, today we'll start with my personal favorite."

"Joshua Abraham Norton, the self-proclaimed His Imperial Majesty Emperor Norton I, was a celebrated citizen of San Francisco, California, who in 1859 proclaimed himself 'Emperor of these United States' and 'Protector of Mexico,'" Ghanima said, launching right into the lecture as the last student was seated. "Born in London, Norton spent most of his early life in South Africa; he emigrated to San Francisco in 1849 after receiving a bequest of $40,000 from his father's estate. Norton initially made a living as a businessman, but he lost his fortune in a bad investment. Afterward, he disappeared for a few years, vanishing from any sort of public record."

( If sincere, his was a career of long heroic sacrifice; if an imposter, he must be ranked as one of the most extraordinary of that class who has yet lived. He left no successor. The emoluments of an unattractive throne and an empty royalty were not alluring; there was none strong enough to follow him; and finally the world was entering upon an epoch of materialism in which there is no provision for such a monarch. From that strange stage through the doors of oblivion, thus passes forever Norton I, Emperor of the United States, and Protector of Mexico. L'Empereur est mort. )

"In 1934, Norton's remains were transferred, as were all graves in the city, at the expense of the City of San Francisco to a grave site of moderate splendor at Woodlawn Cemetery, in Colma. The site is marked by a large stone inscribed "Norton I, Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico."