hollywoostar (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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fandomhigh2016-09-22 12:37 am
hollywoostar) wrote in fandomhigh2016-09-22 12:37 am
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Learnin' with Mr. Peanutbutter, Thursday, period 1
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!"
"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!"
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