Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude
Where Great Intelligence Goes To Be Insulted

Saturday, 14 May 2016

A Diverse And Vibrant Classroom

 
The public education crisis - courtesy of CW at The Daily Time Waster. If you know any elderly baby boomer libtards - this is a great example of why their own parents segregated the schools - and used the strap on you when you needed it.

I see stuff like this and realize that we are well and truly fucked. I suppose I shouldn't grumble, that isn't bad. The "bad" ones are bringing guns and drugs to school. I can just envision one of my heroes (and I say this as a 51 year old adult) - Earnie K. Mr. K was our junior high school assistant principal back in 1977 or so. He was a big strapping handsome man and he didn't take shit off of kids, and we didn't expect him to or hate him for it either. He would have waded into that lot, kicking, slapping and cuffing his way through like an expert. He probably would have caught and upended the niglet in the pink pants and paddled her ass on the spot too - like an angry father and not a pervert. He instinctively knew how to inflict the maximum amount of pain without drawing blood. I considered it a sport to taunt him as a kid, and I still have the scorch marks on my ass from the floor hockey stick he belted me with! I was a willing example of what he would do to kids that trifled with him. But even with all that - if you did something really awful, Mr. K wouldn't lay a finger on you.





One day I was climbing the ropes and he was spotting and making sure the cushions and matts were properly placed to save oafs like me that had a nasty habit of falling off the gymnastic equipment. He had his back to me so I took advantage - and attacked! I got my legs around his neck and started choking him out in a scissors hold. Then I started hauling on the rope, trying to lift him off the ground, laughing like a loon as he choked and gasped. "Choke him out!" the baboons in my tribe howled. "Filthie," he gasped, "Cut it out...!" I applied more pressure in response. Finally the big man had had enough of my shit, and reached up and gave me a brutal quick punch to the kidneys. I fell to the matts and rolled over in pain. Then he told me to go sit down - and kicked me arse over tea kettle into the other kids who roared with delight. This is how boys play, and this is how men teach them and earn their respect. Mr. K handled that misbehaviour the way my dad would have, or my big brother. Just as we had our gang, he had his and you didn't screw with it. Mr. G was the principal and was obviously an elder - you wouldn't lay hands on him if you wanted to live. Mr, K was his enforcer, and Mr. H was a young phys.ed teacher that would also cuff us around as necessary - but he often played with us too as big brothers do. If we were overcome by sudden fits of badness and misbehaviour there were plenty of hard knocks and quick hands to straighten us out. We were always forgiven and complimented on our good behaviour right up to the next beating!

They all retired within 5 years of each other. The schools went entirely politically correct in the 80's and the men were forbidden from using any physical means of controlling their students, and any meaningful discipline and punishments were abandoned. Mr. G went first - the second he was eligible for his pension - he was gone. He was replaced by a very large lesbian woman who was one of my mom's friends. I often heard them chat during social visits and lord - how that woman hated men and boys. I overheard them talking once when they thought I was out - and they sounded like the mean girls in high school. How could a fat, ugly sullen lesbian be expected to deal with boisterous teenaged miscreants like me?  Mr. K retired a few years later and Mr. H. quit and went to sell RV's for a living. I still run into Mr. H at the rod and gun club from time to time. He's retired now too and spends his days prepping for hunting season, fishing and camping. Sometimes he and Mr. G are there together and I've spent many an afternoon with the old gents, chowing down on Mr. H's moose jerky and listening to their lies and hogwash. I was shocked to learn that they thought I was a good kid. They both complain bitterly that now, real problem kids are free to prey on the good kids and nothing is allowed to be done about it.

Sitting here, 37 years later, watching those kids chimp out in class, probably under the noses of indifferent teachers...I thank God for those men (and women) that had the courage to do right by the kids that needed it. Some would look at those kids and mutter about their behaviour but there is really nothing wrong with them - they are pushing their boundaries and rebelling against authority just as kids are supposed to do. This - this is poor parenting and poor teaching. Today's teachers are largely pooch screwing union slobs (and don't anyone give me the gears; my brother in law is a school principal and his wife is a teacher and those two are what they are, and typical of the breed). When stuff like this hits the news the teachers point the finger at the parents and whine that they are responsible for this disgraceful behaviour. The parents point the finger back at the teachers - and the kids are left holding the bag and nothing gets done. If I were in charge - I would end public schooling right now and fire the lot of those slobs. It's criminal negligence and no bones about it.

I am damned glad that Mr. K and his gang were there to control and educate mine and I fear for these kids that have self esteem but no restraint or education. If you have kids you owe it to them to homeschool them or send them to a respectable private school.

No comments:

Post a Comment