Learnin' with Mr. Peanutbutter, Thursday, period 1

[hollywoostar]

There was a map of the world covering the chalkboard at the top of class, today, and there were big blocky old computers on desks all around the classroom.

"Right!" Mr. Peanutbutter was wearing his fake hipster glasses again. And yes, he had in fact found himself a tweed jacket with leather elbow patches. He was wearing it tied around his waist. "Before we get started this week, I want to talk about last week's class. We . . . didn't really manage to have any rap battles, did we?" He shook his head sadly. "Now, I'm not sure if that was a failure on my part --" yes. Yes it was. "-- or on yours, but I don't want to harp on where to place the blame here." Because the blame was on him. All on him. "Instead, I want to look at that word: Failure. What does it mean? What happens when we fail at something? It wasn't the end of the world now, was it? Sometimes it's okay to fail. It means that at least we tried! Heck, failure is what makes learning things possible! It's also what makes reality television watchable. And this room is both a setting of learning and of a reality television show!" It was barely one and not even remotely the other. "So I'd say our failure last week was actually a resounding success! Let's give ourselves a hand."

He clapped. And would look at you with some really potent puppy-dog eyes if you didn't also at least pretend to clap. No, seriously, this guy was actually literally once a puppy. Those eyes can kill.

"So now that that's taken care of, let's move on to our lesson this week: math." All of it. The entire system/language/philosophy/basis of the entire universe. In one class period. He turned around and rolled up the map that was hanging in front of the chalkboard when the students walked in, revealing a complex math problem. Or rather, half a complex math problem. Mr. Peanutbutter got bored halfway through copying out the problem he found on the internet and started just scribbling in random numbers, symbols, and shapes. There's a smiley face in there somewhere as a variable. Also a drawing of a slice of apple pie.

Mmm, pie.

"What is math?" Mr. Peanutbutter asked, looking thoughtfully at the mess of vaguely mathy looking things on the board. "Why is it important to learn it? And what is it about all these numbers and squiggles that's so scary?" He turned and looked back at the class. "No, I'm actually asking. Math is terrifying. According to my accountant, I haven't even the most basic grasp of how numbers work." He chuckled. Ah, he loved that guy. That spaghetti strainer idea of his had been a gold mine. "Which is why for today's assignment, I thought I'd get a little help from Professor Internet. So today we're going to play a brilliant, educational math game! Everyone find a spot at one of the computers and get cracking!"

Criminal Justice & You, Thursday, Second Period

[10secondcar]

"This week we're going to talk about something that's more oriented to if you're dealing with law enforcement as a suspect or something than if you're planning to be law enforcement," Brian said at the beginning of today's class. "Don't get me wrong, if you're planning to be a cop, you need to pay attention to this, too, because today we're going to talk about your rights. Not broader rights like freedom of speech or the right to vote, but specifically what your rights are when you get arrested.

"If you've ever seen any type of cop show, you've heard them read someone their rights. 'You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will...'blah blah blah. But here's the thing. It's really important to know your rights. Now, they may vary, depending on where you are, so if you're traveling to another country or...planet or whatever, be sure to bring yourself up to date on that before you go. And seriously: use your rights. If you have the right to silence, be silent. Well, say, 'I want my lawyer,' and then shut it, because I got a news flash for you: the cops' first priority is not protecting your rights, it's solving crimes. So you gotta look out for yourself.

"In the USA, if you're arrested, first off, you have the right to know your rights." Brian quirked up one corner of his mouth and said, "I know, it sounds redundant, but it's actually kind of critical. You also have the right to remain silent, and you have the right to an attorney. This means that you can have a legal professional with you when you're being questioned, to advise you on things like whether or not you should answer a particular question. If you cannot afford an attorney, the state is required to provide you with one. If you're charged with a crime, among other things you have the right to a trial by jury and to no 'cruel and unusual punishment.' Which means torture. Having to eat jailhouse slop is legally neither cruel nor unusual.

"Now, if you're a cop of some stripe yourself, you absolutely need to know what your prisoners' rights are, so you don't violate them, and get a case thrown out and a criminal back on the streets.

"So, I was wondering, what do the rights of the accused look like where you're from, and what do you think about that? If you don't know that much about how that works back home, A) your homework is to learn, and B) tell me what you think about what I told you about how it works here."

Ethics, Thursday

[saddeserthermit]

"There is a very old work of fiction from this planet," Anakin said as he passed around copies of a short story, "that uses a hypothetical situation to debate a larger moral question."

"It speaks of a king in a distant land, who meted out justice by putting the accused in a large arena. The arena would hold two doors. Behind one laid a hungry tiger; behind the other, a suitor the accused had to wed immediately, regardless of the accused's marital position prior to winding up in the arena," Obi-Wan continued smoothly. "This king had a daughter, and his daughter had a lover - one she was not meant to have."

Anakin coughed, shooting Obi-Wan a slightly guilty look. "As sometimes happens, yes. The king eventually found out, and immediately tossed the hapless youth into prison to await his sentencing. Everyone knew he was guilty of the crime of loving someone above his station, but the king insisted on his instant, impartial justice system. The boy would go into the arena with the two doors, choose one, and end up either tiger food or wed to the most beautiful woman the king could procure--not, of course, his daughter."

"The princess, being so close to the king, knew which door was which," Obi-Wan said. "She even knew the suitor the king had picked - a beautiful girl she loathed. And her lover knew she would know, which was why, as he walked into the arena, he looked up to catch her eye, hoping for a hint as to which door to pick."

"She pointed him to the right-hand door without hesitation," Anakin said, "and he opened it...and that's where the story leaves us. Did she send him to the lady or to the tiger? Read the story for yourselves--there's nuance in it we have skimmed over--and then pair up and discuss it. Which do you think she chose for him?"