Thanks again!
For jostling around my neurons with words. With the spark to open the can of worms again. There will be worms all over the place, worms are all protein, eating and sex. Worms on the sidewalk, stuck together in asexual bliss. (musical interlude)
THE WORM MORRISSEY. I wriggle with you, asexually on the sidewalk, on a rainy day in Bristol, oh whoa whoa oaaaaa.... It's heaven on a sticky Bristol sidewalk in the rain with you, ooo ooo ooo. whoa ooo oah oah oah aaahhhhhh
I borrowed Morrissey's muse there for a while, he wasn't using it.
So I was chatting to a hottie from my past, sharing music and her insight into the weird music I shared with her opened up fifth grade for me again. 1974, the year baseball cards started to look lame, the first year in the BIG middle school. Time for the well-meaning Health teacher to help kids adapt to this sprawling mega school Get them ready for Industrial schooling. Interest Inventory. Write down five things that you like to do in your spare time on this index card. This is Private and only for the other kids to see, there is no grade or anything, we just want you to see how many other girls and boys in this big new school are just like you.We will pass them around to all the other new students who will then decide if you would be a school friend, a friend to invite home, or someone to eat lunch with, something like that.."won;t this be fun?" ("eat lunch with" is a clear case of my mind synthesizing and editing a bad lesson plan, I do it automatically, making things better, more stream lined, unless its a stream of Conshy burst)
So I was in a bit of a dark place and I wrote that I enjoyed S.W.A.T. There was a song with a cool synthesizer bit in it. And a TV show about how cool cops could be if only they had more and bigger guns. Brainwashing was so much simpler then. When I was ten.
I wrote S.W.A.T. because it was in my head. Pop music as a control system back-firing? Or was a chicken coming home to roost? I changed it to Street War Against Teachers. I also said I loved nuclear war, radiation, baseball cards, reading and the Beatles.
The Psychiatrist hauled me into his office and sat behins his big desk asking me if I had anything I wanted to talk about. "Nope" Was there anything that bothered me? "Unh -uh", he was patient, and I was missing math. so I stone walled him and read magazines until he got to the reason for my visit to his office. He took out the PRIVATE index card for kids eyes only and told me that another student had alerted the teacher to my card... BUSTED, down on Bourbon Street, set up, it gets to wearing thin, if you got a warrant I guess you better come in..
The shrink said that I still had time to do the card "right" and circulate it among the remaining health classes. The card was flagged the first time around, there was still time to be normal I guess. So I put in the expected stuff about soccer and chess and the Shrink was happy to help me adjust to this scary new school. The scary new school that separated me from the love of my life, Susan Black. I was in Orange house, she was in Blue. My teacher, Mrs. Smith was an institution, Whe had been my mothers teacher.
I am proudest of the fact that I beat the shrink and did not crack. I kept the family secret. I boiiled and stewed in juices about skies full of Russian missles and cringed every time at noon when they sounded the air-raid siren. That's some very un-subtle conditioning right there. Teach the kids to Duck and Cover and blast the air raid sirens a few times a day. You hear, you fear, you hope the tone ends. The long unbroker tome is the one they will play when the nukes are in the air. No wonder I am crazy.
For jostling around my neurons with words. With the spark to open the can of worms again. There will be worms all over the place, worms are all protein, eating and sex. Worms on the sidewalk, stuck together in asexual bliss. (musical interlude)
THE WORM MORRISSEY. I wriggle with you, asexually on the sidewalk, on a rainy day in Bristol, oh whoa whoa oaaaaa.... It's heaven on a sticky Bristol sidewalk in the rain with you, ooo ooo ooo. whoa ooo oah oah oah aaahhhhhh
I borrowed Morrissey's muse there for a while, he wasn't using it.
So I was chatting to a hottie from my past, sharing music and her insight into the weird music I shared with her opened up fifth grade for me again. 1974, the year baseball cards started to look lame, the first year in the BIG middle school. Time for the well-meaning Health teacher to help kids adapt to this sprawling mega school Get them ready for Industrial schooling. Interest Inventory. Write down five things that you like to do in your spare time on this index card. This is Private and only for the other kids to see, there is no grade or anything, we just want you to see how many other girls and boys in this big new school are just like you.We will pass them around to all the other new students who will then decide if you would be a school friend, a friend to invite home, or someone to eat lunch with, something like that.."won;t this be fun?" ("eat lunch with" is a clear case of my mind synthesizing and editing a bad lesson plan, I do it automatically, making things better, more stream lined, unless its a stream of Conshy burst)
So I was in a bit of a dark place and I wrote that I enjoyed S.W.A.T. There was a song with a cool synthesizer bit in it. And a TV show about how cool cops could be if only they had more and bigger guns. Brainwashing was so much simpler then. When I was ten.
I wrote S.W.A.T. because it was in my head. Pop music as a control system back-firing? Or was a chicken coming home to roost? I changed it to Street War Against Teachers. I also said I loved nuclear war, radiation, baseball cards, reading and the Beatles.
The Psychiatrist hauled me into his office and sat behins his big desk asking me if I had anything I wanted to talk about. "Nope" Was there anything that bothered me? "Unh -uh", he was patient, and I was missing math. so I stone walled him and read magazines until he got to the reason for my visit to his office. He took out the PRIVATE index card for kids eyes only and told me that another student had alerted the teacher to my card... BUSTED, down on Bourbon Street, set up, it gets to wearing thin, if you got a warrant I guess you better come in..
The shrink said that I still had time to do the card "right" and circulate it among the remaining health classes. The card was flagged the first time around, there was still time to be normal I guess. So I put in the expected stuff about soccer and chess and the Shrink was happy to help me adjust to this scary new school. The scary new school that separated me from the love of my life, Susan Black. I was in Orange house, she was in Blue. My teacher, Mrs. Smith was an institution, Whe had been my mothers teacher.
I am proudest of the fact that I beat the shrink and did not crack. I kept the family secret. I boiiled and stewed in juices about skies full of Russian missles and cringed every time at noon when they sounded the air-raid siren. That's some very un-subtle conditioning right there. Teach the kids to Duck and Cover and blast the air raid sirens a few times a day. You hear, you fear, you hope the tone ends. The long unbroker tome is the one they will play when the nukes are in the air. No wonder I am crazy.
