This is where you stick random tidbits of information about yourself.
Delphi
Thursday, July 17, 2003
Hi and lo
I make no apologies for no sick bag!
You'll have to find your own from now on.
This is dedicated to all my Year 10 friends at school.
My plan was to return today to say goodbye and leave the school for the last time after tea and cake with you lot but it became more than that. Wandering round the school I bumped into more friends than I expected and it started to get a bit sad and that made me very happy because we all felt the same.
Iād planned only to visit you Food Technology chums and spend some time with you but I couldnāt say goodbye to waves and smiles and hugs. And Year 10 boys are cool (well mostly). Cheerio to Pen Spear, Rave the Brave, St.Eve, Crispin Front and the Crooner. Just calm down The Ant Knee and The Foot, calm down. You people came to mean a lot to me and although I spent most of the time with a selected few, I could feel relaxed and stimulated in any of your company. Farewell Captain Marcel Kellog until we meet again. See you one day Tom-Tom ö stay our of that parallel vortex.
The girls are marvellous and every one a jewel. Thereās The TV Presenter, (hello, good evening, here is the news·); our good friend dear Pisa (excellent runner ö sava?). Bye, bye Nagem- sparkling like you do; and that one from down the M6 who can almost write as good as worrIdo, like ö Hellonwheels, her name is. Mistress Pony, Missy Clips, The Koffee Kween (black,one sugar), My Combi Girl, The Make-up Girl (thanks for the hug), Kohl Eyes and Saxophone Sal ö thank you for your beautiful smile.
Itās sesh a pity that Mad Abba was skiving although I was cheered up when Florence gave me my 40p investment dividend so I thank her for guidance. And you people have ideas that are not always brand new but you really do make them sound fresh! You are full of life and you shared your life with me. We had a laugh. And there are those of you who have diamonds in your eyes, fabulous imaginations and limitless ambition. You have colours and dreams that make me think. Some of you are too loud and some of you are dreamers but you are absolutely no different from ALL the kids Iāve been talking to since I was one myself, since I was talking to Plato. Exactly the same. As I walked, things were becoming emotional, so I was glad at one point to visit the Year 7 drama class where I could be anonymous. They couldnāt care who I was and I could take a breath.
I learned a great deal these past two years ö it seems a lot longer ö and I thank you for your company. Iāll keep the secrets. And other things Iāll always keep, things about myself. Like I learned to look at problems from the other personās point of view. How to be polite when Iāve wanted to be rude. I tried to be patient when I didnāt always have the time. But more than anything, Iāve felt that you, without realising it, helped me to try to do better as a person and I can never thank you enough for that. I just hope you remember how wonderful I was and remember to send me some money at Christmas.
If I forgot to include any one of you, itās only my memory - not my heart.
Remember, always take care of each other and try to keep in touch.
In the meantime, have a hug·with love from me to you.
"Good morning my lovely people!" The teacher is bright and cheerful this morning.
Annette sucks a lollipop.
The curtains are drawn and the lights are on even though itās only just 10am.
Gerald admires Brandyās new coat."I love that colour grey youāre wearing." Brandy flushes,"Me too·weāve got so much in common·" Gerald grimaces,"Not really." Someone has some unwrapped mouth-watering sandwiches temptingly displayed for all to see.
"Anyone desirous of papyrous?" Sir is still optimistic. ·Pepsi·bottled water· crisps·itās like Glastonbury in here this morning. Gerald talks across the room to Brandy. "Is that a new coat?" Brandy is pleased. "Itās got two zips." Gerald, "Thatās so cool."
The teacher feels left out. "Anyone·donāt disappoint me· done their homework?" Someone makes a squeaky noise. Teacher presses on· ·only to be interrupted by Oonah. "Canāt we do a thingy thing?" Someone makes another squeaky noise. This time barely hiding his irritation, the teacher laughs, "Hey, why donāt you squeak as I write on the whiteboard and the first one out of synchronicity loses?" Carlotta nods wildly, "Good idea sir!" Sir, "Oh dear. I shouldnāt have given you that idea that should I? Oonah! Ssshhh! Oonah? Stop talking please, while I am talking. Oonah, George, Carlotta stop squeaking·three gun platforms· plus, I suppose you have to say, basement kitchen· so 1540. I think Iād like you·Oonah? Please stop talking! The gun platform was replaced ·" Oonah has a finger problem. "Sir, do you have a plaster?" "Sir?" ·squeak· "Sir, can I go and get a plaster?" "Youāll be fine·.fresh air·wait till later." The teacher bends to whisper more confidentially,"Just stick it away. Oonah thanks. The next important bit·" Sirās pen starts squeaking. "This is just an outline." Brandy catches Geraldās attention. "Have you seen my picture on the wall? Itās really embarrassing." Carlotta stands up and goes for the door. "Iām taking the sellotape back." Sirās not pleased with another interruption. "Leave it till the end of the ·" Carlotta protests. "She wants it back!" Sir looks at Oonah. "Go and get a plaster then·Versailles·" Carlotta has been to Versailles. "Iāve been to Versailles·" she beams. Sir tries some historic facts. "Elizabeth the First ordered the building, Carlotta, and the ramparts were to prevent attackers from...you could argue·1603·or even ·4·" Brandy is amazed. "God ! I canāt believe you know all this stuff·" I donāt think she should call him God in public·but thatās just an opinion· Sir, "Well, Iāve been teaching for a couple of years now·"
Gerald has a fact to share. "Sir, did you know thereās a bastard fish?" Me, "And a grape?" Gerald, "And a file?" Sir makes a joke. "Show me your hysterical knowledge·I mean·your historical knowledge·about the Civil War·by the way· my backās not hurting as much as it was last week. Thanks for asking·" No one asked him about his back.
Gerald tries one of his jokes (?) on the assembled group. "Why did the housewife cross the road? MORE TO THE POINT, WHAT WAS SHE DOING OUT OF THE HOUSE?" Absolute silence. The girls raise their eyebrows and exchange glances· "You can tell what Geraldās going to be like when he gets older·" "Lonely?"
Sir apologises for the white board being covered in writing. "I didnāt mean for you to copy so much from the board" "Sir, I didnāt know there were so many commas in History" "You liar. You liar! I saw you do it with my own bare hands!" "The only strong thing about you, boy, is your smell"
"Sir, if you wipe away some of the letters from the board you find rude words." Sir gives in. "OK Graham, what have you found?" "Sir, I found penis" "Bin looking long?"
"Billy the Biroās dead."
Rose whispers to me, "Know what sir? Thereās a video about Napoleon·.Heās a puppy"
Brandy asks Graham, "Can I have a chewing gum?" "No, Iāve eaten them all," he whispers, "but Iāll give you one secretly later." "In your dreams, cowboy!" says Brandy.
"Graham, you should be wearing thick-lensed glasses to drool and slaver over smutty words"
"Donāt draw on me!"
"Did I tell you my back is getting better thanks"
Mobiles appear as class enthusiasm evaporates in the morning steam. "Itās quiet ö too quiet!"
Outside in the passageway between buildings a student looks embarrassed. Heās been shackled with a cable grip to a metal roof support and then abandoned.
Dynnargh welcome Mingalaba foon ying witojtaz benvinguts hafa adai marsha wooghill yooghill dooghill va Īohtama nāestsehnestse tikulandirani
Welcome to Delphi Incomprehensive
Itās Tuesday
Science
La Gobola is looking tanned. She makes the most of the neckline of a new black top. Sheās strangely quiet. Sheās probably thinking of her latest flame, the nasty piece of work, Master Johnny Crawford, nevertheless, she gives the impression sheās paying attention.
Itās a small class today because some are potholing in old tin mines in an attemp to unravel the mysterious Voynich Manuscript written by the mysterious Wilfrid Voynich Jnr. Written in an mysterious unknown language with lots of pages of drawings of strange humanoids in space-type suits, it has thwarted the best analytical brains in Year 10. On the other hand and some are out simply enjoying the glorious sunshine. And itās hot.
The teacher begins the lesson with a drawing of a prancing herbivore and writes 10% on its body. Proudly, he announces, "The rest comes out as shit!" Many of the students are shocked and cover their ears.
Kooky is reading a video sleeve. La Gobola looks over her shoulder and say, "I love that film" Kooky ignores her completely.
The teacher asks a question, "Itās the flow of energy that produces what type of organism. Eh?" No response. La Gobola wears her glasses on top of her head in an attempt to look ice cool. Sheās got her own conversation going whilst she finishes an apple. "Can you put this in the bin for me, sir?" Sighing deeply, Sir gets the bin for her muttering, "Whatās the boiling point of human patience?"
Dulux has a serious scientific question, "Sir, whoād want to swim in shit?" The teacher has his answer ready, "Weāve been doing it for years except that we filter out all the really lumpy bits." How weāre supposed to eat in this lesson with that sort of talk going on is beyond me.
La Gob helps herself to Cindyās sweets hoping to be alowed to as a friend. Cindy flashes her a look.
"What the f***!" Kooky is inspecting the teacherās choice of music.
A metal table crashes over. Dulux and Jock are almost choking with surpressed laughter. Sir is furious. "Try being a bit grown up!" and I wonder who they can use for a role model. "Where were we? Oh right, ĪShitā." He looks like he needed to say that. The teacher then resorts to explaining Gastric and Gut Physics using old stanby words intending to startle the students into paying attention, like, ĪPiss; bonking; mucus; urinate; digest; bladder; phlegm; biomass and Bon Jovi. The teacher seems quite pleased with his lexicon.
Dulux and Jock are trying to identify the temporal vortex in space time continuum and doing quite well until the teacher interrupts with, "Make sure your microscans are reduced and you clean the lens with a treated wipe before engaging the stereoptocom." La Gobola calls out something but no one can unravel her vowels and grunts.
Slim pipes up with something crude about astronomical and botanical alchemy. No one laughs. Slim then turns to Tadpole and strikes up a meaningful conversation about fish fingers. La Gob sings.
The second Sir turns up the volume to his Bon Jovi CD, itās practically impossible to concentrate. Captain Kellogās ears start bleeding although he looks happy enough. Nearly everyone sticks in their personal earphones and start head banging. Except for La Gobola who is showing Dulux and Jock her navel jewellery.
Dynnargh welcome Degemer mat namwikhoyele dobre doshli ALI Maraba
Welcome to Delphi Incomprehensive
Itās Monday
History
"Before I forget to tell you·listen up·shush·shush·listen·tomorrow weāll be interviewing some old people. Iāll give you a list of questions. Theyāre quite funny." "What are, sir? The old people?" "Now, now. Donāt be rude." "Sir, what if theyāre deaf?" "Sir, what if they canāt remember anything? "·or start to cry?" "·or start to wet themselves?" "Stop being silly, now." "Sir?" "Yes, Bull" "Sir, what if they die?" "Brown? Cāmon Bull, shush, listen up, please·Thanks gents. Tituba! Pay attention·If you watch interviewers on TV, you notice they sometimes have to develop their questions according to the replies they get. Some are better at it than others·"
Thereās the sound of eyes glassing over, minds switching off, crisps being crunched, crisp packets being scrunched and some short tinkling bursts of giggling. The boy Iām helping offers me some chewing gum.
"Betty! Betty!" Must be Betty walking past. Betty gives a wave. Sebastian, "Sir, do you like my apron? Attractive isnāt it?" "Shush! Sit down. Whereās Abigail?" "On the beach, Sir." "Swine rebel that she is. OK a coupla things·for the remaining 4 weeks·Iām glad someoneās ready to work·show us your apron then·Angel! Arthur! Alfred! Shush! And listen please·Iām being posh·itās very impoprtant you bring all of your notes·I say all· shush·Yoko!·to every lesson." Someone, "Notes! He! He!" Teacher, "May I arsk what twelve and a half per cent of 1500 words is? Digger? Itās rrrrecommended·oooh my tongue·1500 words·.not a lot·.so letās·." "Sir? You know how we can get penalised for using too many words?·" "Sir? The way you say, ĪMay I arskā sounds like Īmy arseā·" "Lots of tasks, Cloe·how can I get all the work done·.ok let me give you some assistance·" Sebastian, "I always write in pink now."
One of the girls, Shira, can bring her folded arms over her head without letting go of her hands. This gets the teacher interested. He asks her to do it one last time for the group but she pretends to be too embarrassed. After a lot of coaxing and the promise of a fag from Tituba she does it again and then everyone wants to ry it. Predictably, squeals of pain fill the air just before the siren goes and the teacher starts to wind down.
Itās three oāclock.
My work here finishes in twelve days and I know I'm going to miss these people.
Dynnargh welcome shagatom ingileni mwabonwa z dobym prybytsyom Zaprashajem magandang umaga po welkam dobro dosli bbolje vas nasli
Tuesday
Hawkeyeās Exam
This morning Iām sitting with a student whoās taking his Science Test. He was waiting for me outside Administration and seemed a little shy and self-conscious. His family has been fisher-folk for centuries and now the schoolās trying to turn him into a scientist. His name is Hawkeye.
Hawkeyeās doing this test under the same conditions as the ones he took last month, in a room by himself accompanied by a chaperone. This test is just as surrounded by confusion and caked in bad organisation, as was last monthās.
The first room we are allocated has a rabble of Year 8s already in it so we make our way back to Administration for guidance. By chance, I bump into our dearly beloved Team Leader who suggests we take the room she was going to use.
Itās about ten miles across the school, down corridors and up staircases. Hawkeye is getting jumpy. His test should have started long ago. He starts sniffing and generally clearing his sinuses. I donāt know if this is a nervous reaction from being shooed around from room to room ages after his examination should have officially started or if it is indeed a stuffed nasal problem, probably a little of both. Either way, he was losing confidence and I needed to get him settled as soon as possible.
I notice a computer room is empty so I collect the keys from the computer geeks and before Hawkeye knew it he was happily chewing his pen over the Mix Īnā Match Proton questions.
The room was like an oven yet he just canāt stop sniffing. And heās getting worse. Itās becoming Īa Hawkeye thingā. He needs a box of tissues. He wants to get them himself. Then he notices a roll of Tescoās kitchen paper, (extra soft), near the white board and calms down. A deep breath and several Force 8 gusts later, he sails through the first part of his exam with a host of seagulls in his wake. He looks pleased with himself and shyly asks for the second part of his paper.
We are about 5 minutes into this bit when we are kicked out by a Maths teacher with a class of Year 7 under his wing. At least he offers me the key to his own classroom, so we set off once again hiking down corridors.
"I love the sea and wild animals but, try as I may, I just canāt get interested in Science."
The Maths teacherās room is bright and airy and my student soon settles himself down behind the teacherās desk. I open all the windows and the door to the playing fields. Inside the shaded room, Hawkeye is soon happily sniffing and concentrating away. "Hawkeye, you can have as long as you like. Youāre well in advance." He grins.
I sit on a chair in the doorway. This is wonderful. A typical summerās morning with bird life a-twittering, sunny blue skies above, the sun on my face and nothing but fresh air fills the gap between me and complete calm. Itās still only 9.20am and itās going to be a sizzler.
I slide down in my seat until Iām almost horizontal and close my eyes. A distant train rumbles past on its way north. I can hear excited shouts from the distant tennis court and other, more serious ones coming through the window of the classroom next door. In between I can hear a mixture of birdsong, traffic, the hissing of steam from the school kitchens and the sound of someone close by blowing their hooter.
Hawkeye has finished and thereās still half an hour to go. He sits on a railing and he talks about the sea. When I tell him Iād like a little boat myself one day, he tells me all I need to know about choosing my first one. He tells me a tale about a man who only had sail and was in grave danger when caught without wind. "...an engine can save your life". Then he talks of people who buy big engines to impress their friends without thinking of how little they have to push. "Waste of time and energy. Then thereās those who donāt think about their missus gettinā wet when thereās a sqawl!" He looks through narrowed eyes to the horizon then, after a little diagnosis, he promptly suggests, "Why don't you try yourself with a Dory or a small cabin cruiser?"
He seems to think thereās no need for further discussion and I believe him.
As we talk, we notice a little squirrel hop across the sweet and juicy grass from the shadows of the pines and stop beside a waste bin. It was a waste bin with a wide slot on each side so after a few seconds we can just make out his silhouette on the inside. Two crows waddle over obviously intent on also scavenging whateverās on offer so theyāre a little put out at finding it occupied. They wait. A seagull arcs across the grass and swoops on some discarded thing. The crows are like paparazzi testing every angle for a scoop. They wait and patrol. They screech.
Casually, a huge cloud obscures the heat and a welcome breeze wafts across our skin.
Suddenly, the squirrel reappears and leaps at the crows making them squawk and flap in panic. They back off and he jumps back in the bin to continue his meal.
"I wonder what heās eating?"
"Itās a half-eaten chicken burger with mayonnaise and ketchup." "How do you know that?"
"Because I threw it there yesterday and they haven't emptied the bins yet."
The crows are pretty pissed off because theyāve probably been using that bin for years. Itās their bin, for Chrisās sake. Who does the squirrel think he is? Both crows walk off someway then turn back to watch, too scared to come any closer. They screech a few times before fighting between themselves over a scrap of something that the seagull accidentally drops on the grass. Now the seagull looks a little annoyed at being robbed in front of all his mates who have been gathering on the surrounding guttering in anticipation of the end of the forthcoming break. Thatās when they swoop and hoover up all the stuff the kids canāt eat or be bothered to pick up after theyāve littered the area. The bravest of the crows returns to the bin to have a go at the squirrel. All seems quiet.
Over in the distance, we can just make out the squirrel who is long gone and can be seen hopping across the grass on its way back to the pines for a welcome lie down. The crows waddle off, defeated. The seagulls on the rooftops see the sqirrel and start to jeer and laugh and boo at the crows. The test is over.
"So, Hawkeye. How do you think you did in your Science exam?"
He sniffs.
"Not so bad actually. I was OK with the question on protons and the hyperthetical vortex theory but I think I got distracted and made a complete cock-up of wave/particle duality. Problem was, I could smell the sea and I think itās going to rain." He sniffs again."And Iāve left my boat uncovered."
Dynnargh welcome Om swatsyatsu Kush amdeed Yang shok Kanani Nāoumagner Akwaba rekhim itegez Ongi etorri Untsa jin Yaw shchyra zaprashajem wacko
Science
9am and no sign of the teacher. Captain Marcel Kellog and I shuffle our feet and tell each other jokes about quantum theory and mathematical symmetries. The rest of the waiting students absent mindedly form two groups. The girls stand a little way down from the door and talk about the questionable necessity of boy friends or sago pudding. The boys straggle and talk about skate boarding and make smells.
The Teacher marches up and opens the door. "Sorry Iām late" He seems to say this to his own refelction in the window of the door.
Dulux looks at his watch and tuts, "Sir, youāre late!" "Iām allowed to be" Dulux makes a note in his jotter.
Inside the classroom all the windows are tightly shut and the blinds are drawn. The teacher makes a profound statement, "Itās bleedinā Īot in Īere, innit?"
La Bore peers at the students in the adjacent classroom through the narrow window in the partition door. Obviously, she doesnāt recognise anyone or we would all know by now.
Barbara hasnāt stopped talking since she sat down. Sheās about to get engaged. The teacher calls out, "Barbara!" "WOT?" "Stop talking and eating" but she continues munching away letting crumbs tumble from her mouth. She seems happy enough.
Po is wired for sounds.
Small pools of giggling and whispering break out around the room.
"Wadda we do?" La Bore is pleased with her American accent and falls into forced giggling. The teacher invites her to go somewhere else in the school. Heās unusually peeved. The girls in the back row group for possible gossip opportunities. Out of nowhere one screams, "Bitch!"
Thereās an outbreak of contagious yawning, chewing and more whispering· "and then he pulls out this camera "· giggle, giggle.
The teacher tries to get the studentsā attention by using a selection of scientific expressions, "·flaccid·erect·floppy·stiff·rigid·turgid·but eventually resorts to the usual·osmosis·nucleus·photosynthesis·cell structure·
Meanwhile, Barbara is tucking into her History project right in front of the teacher. He is furious and tries to close her guide book of Pindanny Castle. She flares up and screams, "Let go of it! Let go! Weāve done your lesson already!" The teacher knows this is true and silently hangs his head in shame.
La Bore strolls around the classroom singing but gives up when she realises nobodyās taking any notice.
Po scrutinises her personal stereo thinking La Boreās singing is in fact distortion in her head phones.
La Bore sums up her fascination with the subject in hand, "Iām gettingā well bored now."
Some kids have passed their absorption capacity and now look completely vacant, emotionless and zombied. Class focusing may have broken down.
La Bore suddenly has a flash of inspiration, "Play the Beatles. Yeah, play the Beatles. I know all the words to them" Barbara scowls, "No one was asking you, La Bore." Iāve never heard anyone speak their mind about La Bore before. I smile at Barbara. Her eyes roll skyward.
Mademoiselle La Bore comes over to the teacherās desk and starts reading the Beatles CD. She barks an order at the teacher, "Play No.10 then number 11!" The Teacher puts the requested tunes through the computer then turns to Barbara, "OK Barbara. Put away the texting. Please listen. Itās for your own good." He waits·and waits·then sighs and says, "Next Tuesday is your Science Module Exam." Groans all round. "But if your intermediate tests are anything to go by, youāll have no problems." "Sir, Can you tell us some of the answers now, please?" The Fishermanās Son likes to be prepared. "I can tell you that the main range of questions cover molecular biology, photons and elctrons, the Meaning of Uncertainty and Random Colouring In. There are extra marks for unravelling the DNA structure from memory. Good Luck."
Captain Marcel Kellog smiles to himself because he knows heās good.
Teacher, "Heading: Our Town and the Second World War. Please listen to me. Listen up, listen now, KK? The Castle was built by Henry VIII between 2040-43 and cost TE50,000,000. C,mon now. Please listen. The Barrack Roads provides us with the third deepest natural harbour in the world."
Meanwhile, the teacherās lesson is accompanied by the sounds of rustling crisp packets, crunching, water being gulped and chewing. The teacher continues, "Shush! Amber. Listen please. Any chance of you writing this down?" Demetta bursts one bubblegum balloon after another. I give her one of my looks.
The teacher tries again, "Can you stop talking now, please?"
The song of an ancient Beatlesā tune drifts through the summer air from the front row. "Na nana nana na na. Hey, Jude."
The teacher makes a joke, "Teachers talk in other peopleās sleep." He turns to me, "Iām flogging a dead horse here".
Duffy wants to know, "Sir, why am I getting told off so much today?" The Teacher, "Was that a telling off? Anyway, listen up. Pindanny to St.Megrim is about one mile."
Tinkerbell, "Sir, do you know that in identical twins, one is often right-handed and the other is often left-handed?" "Thank you, Tink." "Unreal" says Duff.
"Sir, whatās does the diagram on the whiteboard represent?ā
"Itās a simple device I use to represent the movement of particles through space and time. We use Time Travel to unearth hitherto unknown facts about our existence and to corroborate previous assumptions ö of both future and past. Your History lessons would just be guesswork without Time Travel."
Polly, "Sir, I think Iām allergic to school. In every lesson I start to sneeze."
Duffy, "Sir, can I take a portable TV with me on our trip to Carclew Castle?"
One kid has had his hand up so long heās almost fallen asleep. Without thinking he calls out, "Dad!"
The Teacher looks hopeful. "Did you call me Dad, son?" "No sir. I was a mistake."
