Post by Jack of Blades on Mar 28, 2006 16:42:03 GMT -5
The same conditions as before.
Jack of Blades: The middling part of my origins story begins with my enrollment in secondary education. A place of destitute naivety and where career ambitions were trading for smokes and watered-down whiskey. I cannot to this day remember the instituter's name but as the Devil has many names so must his abode.
My school was the polar opposite of the heir's. Whereas his school proudly displayed a terrain ed sixteen-hundred meter track, mine boasted a wheelchair ramp (the one and only piece of equipment for the disabled) Whereas each student within the heir's place of learning was given a slimline laptop to aid in their studies, my school had an electronic pencil sharpener stationed in every other classroom. Whereas his cafeteria amalgamated Chinese, Indian, Thai and numerous other varieties of exotic dishes, my cafeteria consisted of Judy, the one-eyed dinner lady and her ladle of baked beans.
And yet we were both despondent to our studies. Him remaining unimpressed by the pretentiousness his school promoted whereas I remained silently irate at my school's inability to just submit and perish. Our unhappiness indicative of our similarity in attitude even if we were different in nature.
There was only one positive aspect at that place: Maria Jung. She was a student of German heritage although she had lived in England all her life. She even spoke with a powerful accent of received pronunciation or 'BBC English.' However, due to the collective prejudices of the student body she was always regarded with contempt for the actions of her grandfathers over half a century previous.
We were both in the 'advanced classes' which was a euphemism for the group of students who had enough potential to escape a vocation behind some cash register. Although, we were in the same set of lessons the two of us excelled in different lessons. I became the school's most prominent budding writer whereas she was developing into a mathematician of NASA standards. Either way, we were kindred spirits in that our talents remained unappreciated by the majority much like how my union with the heir came through atheism.
I first conversed with her in 'homework club': an extra-curricular activity where students would go after school to finish homework away from their humdrum existences at home. In reality it was simply detention for the innocent and those whose parents where unable to arrange travel. I fitted into both categories. My mother was still over-stretched in her career, however this time she was working with the elderly. Those who were aged and too selfish to shuffle off their mortal coils. My father had been promoted repeatedly since the arrival of 'Jill', the female floor man. He was now her direct inferior and some would say her lapdog.
Her parents were similarly busy with their professions: lawyer and doctor. How quaint and regal, I thought, that a German family could come to the home of their sworn enemies and assume two of the most valued occupations excluding Big Brother contestant. Either way, I once addressed her to borrow her calculator. She reciprocated and asked me for a synonym for the word, 'definition.' This interlocution continued past this one occasion and we would then sit next to each other and collectively strive through the bland work set for us 'prodigies.'
We soon formed a friendship; she impressed with me shy honesty and I was taken aback by the irony of her voice. We were always competing for the teacher's praise. We needed validation and there were no other contenders. The requirements for the 'advanced classes' were surprisingly low. If you could form a coherent sentence, you were in. Of course, this hindered the few able ones like myself.
To be honest, I invariably came above her. However, as adolescence kicked in with full force I found myself wanting to come on top of her. I was enthralled by her idioms. How she'd twirl her brown shoulder length hair around her middle finger when she was feeling ambivalent (when it came to me the mixture of emotions was usually frustration and respect.)
I began to notice that she would slump her school tie (a pathetic attempt at adding class to the school) over her left breast and how it used to have the most minute kink when it slid over her nipple (despite the intervening layers.) I began to appreciate how her perfectly purple mouth was capable of expressing answers of youthful wisdom and was probably capable of giving the greatest acts of fellatio known to man. And yet, this attraction would not stop me from embarrassing her in academia.
It was recommended by Mr Jenkins (the only competent and probably the only qualified teacher at the school, I think he's dead now) that we should apply to 'MENSA' in the hope of becoming members. He arranged our IQ tests (my previous result had been deemed archaic) which we finished with abstract ease. The results came back stating that I was capable of joining something called the 'Prometheus Society' but Maria's results were a few points shy of the entry requirements. I was accepted and given a complimentary badge to wear but I disposed of it because of the elitism it exuded. At 14, I was one of only 900 children in the British Isles to be a part of Mensa.
However, I was still eager to demonstrate my intellect. Like I said, I needed validation. I thought that the perfect opportunity would come in the 'Headmaster's Congregation': an event in which the entire school gathered to celebrate student achievements at the end of each year. I waited eagerly looking over at a smiling Mr Jenkins waiting for my award. The headmaster announced that the final award would be for the 'Greatest Overall Accomplishment.' I did not receive it, instead the award went to some soccer player who had signed a youth contract with Manchester City Football Club. And yet, I clapped like a seal with the rest of the idiots. Remaining quiet in defeat.
Jack of Blades: The middling part of my origins story begins with my enrollment in secondary education. A place of destitute naivety and where career ambitions were trading for smokes and watered-down whiskey. I cannot to this day remember the instituter's name but as the Devil has many names so must his abode.
My school was the polar opposite of the heir's. Whereas his school proudly displayed a terrain ed sixteen-hundred meter track, mine boasted a wheelchair ramp (the one and only piece of equipment for the disabled) Whereas each student within the heir's place of learning was given a slimline laptop to aid in their studies, my school had an electronic pencil sharpener stationed in every other classroom. Whereas his cafeteria amalgamated Chinese, Indian, Thai and numerous other varieties of exotic dishes, my cafeteria consisted of Judy, the one-eyed dinner lady and her ladle of baked beans.
And yet we were both despondent to our studies. Him remaining unimpressed by the pretentiousness his school promoted whereas I remained silently irate at my school's inability to just submit and perish. Our unhappiness indicative of our similarity in attitude even if we were different in nature.
There was only one positive aspect at that place: Maria Jung. She was a student of German heritage although she had lived in England all her life. She even spoke with a powerful accent of received pronunciation or 'BBC English.' However, due to the collective prejudices of the student body she was always regarded with contempt for the actions of her grandfathers over half a century previous.
We were both in the 'advanced classes' which was a euphemism for the group of students who had enough potential to escape a vocation behind some cash register. Although, we were in the same set of lessons the two of us excelled in different lessons. I became the school's most prominent budding writer whereas she was developing into a mathematician of NASA standards. Either way, we were kindred spirits in that our talents remained unappreciated by the majority much like how my union with the heir came through atheism.
I first conversed with her in 'homework club': an extra-curricular activity where students would go after school to finish homework away from their humdrum existences at home. In reality it was simply detention for the innocent and those whose parents where unable to arrange travel. I fitted into both categories. My mother was still over-stretched in her career, however this time she was working with the elderly. Those who were aged and too selfish to shuffle off their mortal coils. My father had been promoted repeatedly since the arrival of 'Jill', the female floor man. He was now her direct inferior and some would say her lapdog.
Her parents were similarly busy with their professions: lawyer and doctor. How quaint and regal, I thought, that a German family could come to the home of their sworn enemies and assume two of the most valued occupations excluding Big Brother contestant. Either way, I once addressed her to borrow her calculator. She reciprocated and asked me for a synonym for the word, 'definition.' This interlocution continued past this one occasion and we would then sit next to each other and collectively strive through the bland work set for us 'prodigies.'
We soon formed a friendship; she impressed with me shy honesty and I was taken aback by the irony of her voice. We were always competing for the teacher's praise. We needed validation and there were no other contenders. The requirements for the 'advanced classes' were surprisingly low. If you could form a coherent sentence, you were in. Of course, this hindered the few able ones like myself.
To be honest, I invariably came above her. However, as adolescence kicked in with full force I found myself wanting to come on top of her. I was enthralled by her idioms. How she'd twirl her brown shoulder length hair around her middle finger when she was feeling ambivalent (when it came to me the mixture of emotions was usually frustration and respect.)
I began to notice that she would slump her school tie (a pathetic attempt at adding class to the school) over her left breast and how it used to have the most minute kink when it slid over her nipple (despite the intervening layers.) I began to appreciate how her perfectly purple mouth was capable of expressing answers of youthful wisdom and was probably capable of giving the greatest acts of fellatio known to man. And yet, this attraction would not stop me from embarrassing her in academia.
It was recommended by Mr Jenkins (the only competent and probably the only qualified teacher at the school, I think he's dead now) that we should apply to 'MENSA' in the hope of becoming members. He arranged our IQ tests (my previous result had been deemed archaic) which we finished with abstract ease. The results came back stating that I was capable of joining something called the 'Prometheus Society' but Maria's results were a few points shy of the entry requirements. I was accepted and given a complimentary badge to wear but I disposed of it because of the elitism it exuded. At 14, I was one of only 900 children in the British Isles to be a part of Mensa.
However, I was still eager to demonstrate my intellect. Like I said, I needed validation. I thought that the perfect opportunity would come in the 'Headmaster's Congregation': an event in which the entire school gathered to celebrate student achievements at the end of each year. I waited eagerly looking over at a smiling Mr Jenkins waiting for my award. The headmaster announced that the final award would be for the 'Greatest Overall Accomplishment.' I did not receive it, instead the award went to some soccer player who had signed a youth contract with Manchester City Football Club. And yet, I clapped like a seal with the rest of the idiots. Remaining quiet in defeat.
