HELLA

CUT SCHOOL

hellacutschool.com

The mainstream has gone viral; no one meant it to. What we call schools have nothing to do with schools of fish; The mainstream's schools are essentially indoctrination camps, merrily leading kids into debt slavery. For more on debt slavery, please see “The Economics of No Debt” at 1458privileged.com.

There are some 7.7 billion people on the planet, and the mainstream is essentially a toenail clipping with attitude. It's a minuscule number of insiders in the ultimate clique. If an entity can exclude you, it's a clique, and it took me 72 years to figure it out. Schools can certainly kick you out, so they're also a clique. Can a school of fish exclude you? Not easily, unless you're dead.

I left Dartmouth College three times, the first when I made the mistake of talking about the strangeness of suicide with another Freshman. The Dean of Freshmen called me in and told me I had to either see a shrink or leave school, so I left. I worked on a ship out of Morgan City, Louisiana for nine months. I lived in New Orleans!

The second time, when I'd returned to school and made the mistake of taking classes in subjects I knew nothing about, thinking I'd learn something: Something about Government, something about Organic Chemistry, something about Biology. I quit going to classes, so I flunked out.

I got married, got a job at IBM as a programmer, because I was a math whiz, and lived in Center City, Pennsylvania. Philadelphia is gritty! I thought returning to Dartmouth College might be a good idea, so we moved to South Strafford, Vermont, I got a job at Kiewit Computation Center as a programmer and teacher, and took nothing but mathematics classes, and got straight A's. Then a housemate started doing lord-knows-what and playing with guns, so I left college a third time with two courses to go. You don't want to hang out with druggies or gun brandishers too long if you value your life. I moved to Boston and got a divorce because I'd learned a few things.

When things go wrong with words, you can easily identify three categories: cliques exclude you, proctors constrain you, and parasites uproot you. For more on a complete theory of communication, please see “Working Friendships” at c-friend.com.

When things go right with words, with conversational cascades approaching intimacy, you can identify a fourth category of communication, adherence to your essential self, often a dream within a dream. A school of fish would like that! For an example of this form of communication, please see “A Bully Is a Parasite” at nightturn.com.

I'm an urban transport specialist, driving a taxicab in San Francisco. Today I grabbed some breakfast at McDonald's and on my way back to my cab encountered a girl wearing a sweatshirt with “SATURDAY” on her chest. “What a great shirt!” I cried out, and she said, “Ha-ha! In case I forget!”

“It helps us!” I said, walking on by. There were crystals of magic all over the place.

Later I encountered a school principal in my taxicab. “Give me an example of what a person can say back to a bully,” she said, trying to constrain me. Think about it. Wouldn't she already know some examples? When I told her how disinterested school principals are in what I do, she suggested I go to an Educational Conference and sit in a Vendor Booth, “... so people can get to know you.”

Right! Me and James Joyce, right? We're hotshot vendors.

What's really been bothering me for a few days is the story another passenger told me about his days in High School in Minnesota. “I was in a hallway talking to my girlfriend, when a guy I'd seen before suddenly grabbed me by the front of my shirt, pinned me to a wall, and said, ‘What are you going to do about it?’ We had a brawl, and he beat the hell out of me!”

Hella Cut School! Why on earth would an institution foster such an encounter? That's the kind of thing that happens in a prison. I can envision a future in which a person could use Artificial Intelligence as an assistant, saying to the App some twenty minutes later, “What are you going to do about it?” and the App would display a whole slew of things ...

Earlier in the week, on KQED's Youth Radio, a tenth grade girl said she knew no polite way to say “NO!” The monitor wrung her hands and offered nothing! That's the Mainstream's way, adhering to the vague, playing “pity music,” and fostering the illusion of Time, saying, “... only twenty more seconds!” For actual specifics, please see “80 Artful Ways to Say NO!” at sparkandconnection.com. My personal favorite, for when someone's pinning your boyfriend to a wall, is to cry out, “—A sky hook! ... —A sky hook!” repeatedly, followed by an indifferent, “And by the way ...”

Visit the Backtalktionary and don't miss “The Other Half of Forgetting” @ firgetting.com.