Dibben?!

              One fateful day, during the third quarter of AP English 12, Ms. Serensky gave the class an assignment. The task was “‘Very simple, really’” (Kesey  293). Every writing pair had to write a seven to ten line poem that gave insight into the events of the previous night’s reading for Amsterdam. I will admit that I am no gifted poet; however, I luckily had the two editors of Prism to aid me. Unfortunately, Haley, Sarah, and I managed to make this simple task extremely difficult. We first had to pick certain words from our assigned section, prior to knowing they would be used in a poem. We choose such easily applicable words as “urinal” and “dyslexic.” The short section we had to analyze consisted of some rather bizarre and unconnected events: Vernon having an awkward conversation with an employee in the bathroom and a disgruntled dyslexic woman losing her job. Although the task at hand was to give insight, we seemed more determined to make the events less intelligible. I knew that the poem was not exactly prize-winning material, but I could not stop laughing long enough to form a sentence to say that. So naturally, I just tried to convince myself that the poem actually made sense. What can I say, “my powers of self-delusion are sort of epic” (Currie 97). When it came time for our group to read the poem, I figured we might be able to trick the class into thinking the poem made sense if we read it really well. After all, “In matters of grave importance, style, not sincerity is the vital thing” (Wilde 44). Sadly, we mustered neither style, nor sincerity for the occasion. Each of us took turns attempting to read our unintelligible poem to the class, but it ended in a fit of laughter. I literally had tears rolling down my cheeks while the rest of the class stared in confusion. It’s like when you try to retell a story that was so funny in the moment, but nobody really gets it a second time around, except it happened on a much larger scale this time. The three of us sat there laughing for the rest of the class period for no apparent reason. A few days later, we got the poem back; Ms. Serensky noted in purple ink, “Kind of confusing.” Honestly, that is an understatement. I located the actual poem and put below for you all to read. When I found it I started laughing again. I do not even know why. I guess that’s why it was my favorite day.

Dibben?!

Vernon!

Don’t approach him at the urinal,

Lest he come a turnin’

You want to write it in your journal

Dibben?

He halfheartedly apologized,

Not wanting to end in a wheelchair. Dibben?!

Vernon was not surprised

When the irresistible Clive phoned.

 But was, when the dyslexic moaned.

The End.

 

The Interrogation

Not-Eric: Colonel Matterson, I presume you know why I am here.

Col: Hello…

Not-Eric: The federal government believes you possess some very important information.

Col: Hello…

Not-Eric: You served in World War Two and subsequent conflicts. “‘Is this factual, so far?’” (Currie 218).

Col: Why, thank you. World War Two is… thank you.

Not-Eric: I’m not following you, but no matter. We are here to discuss another subject entirely. It is rumored that during your time in the army you were involved in a top secret organization that created some sort of pact between Mexico and the United States. Can you recall any of this information? It is a matter of national security.

Col: “‘The flag is… America. America is the… plum’” (Kesey 135).

Not-Eric: The plum? Is that some sort of code? If so, I am not familiar. Please elaborate.

Col: “The peach. The wah-ter-me-lon. America is… the gumdrop” (Kesey 135).

Not-Eric: Is this an evasion tactic? It will not work on me, “‘I live for a living. That’s my job’” and I can spot another liar from a mile away (Currie 217).

Col: “‘The pump-kin seed. America is… the tell-ah-vision’” (Kesey 135).

Not-Eric: I’m warning you Colonel, if you don’t start talking “I’m gonna get real weird with it.” I have methods of making people talk that you do NOT want to experience.

Col: “‘Now… The cross is… Mexico’” (Kesey 135).

Not-Eric: Well, well, you seem to have understood me old man. Tell me more about how Mexico was involved in this scheme.

Col: “‘Mexico is… the wal-nut’” (Kesey 135).

Not-Eric: Hmmm…. The walnut? Does that mean they were the brains of the operation? That must be where the headquarters are located! Now we’re getting somewhere, go on.

Col: “‘Mexico is… wooden’” (Kesey 135).

Not-Eric: Yes, I see what you mean. That will present a problem, but with our firepower I think we can manage. What else can you tell me?

Col: “‘Now… The green sheep is… Canada’” (Kesey 135)

Not-Eric: Canada? They’re involved in this too? I wonder just how deep this whole thing goes… I have to alert my superiors, this whole situation is way bigger than we ever imagined!   

McMurphy and Multiple Choice

            I don’t typically much like this sorta thing. Bunch a “intellectuals,” or whatever they are, sittin’ round talking about who knows what. It’s not really my scene. But I surely do like one thing, and that’s games. “‘I like to gamble. And I like to win’” (73). This here multiple choice game we’re playing today in AP English class is gonna give me the perfect opportunity to win big. Those kids are so cocky; they look at ol’ McMurphy and think that I’ve never had an intelligent thought in my whole life. Boy will I prove ‘em wrong. “‘Oh, I’m a thinker alright’” (107). As I walk into the room, I see all the little desks arranged in nice little groups. How cute. The teacher stuck me in a group cause nobody would take me, their loss. Maybe it’s cause I haven’t bothered to learn anyone’s name yet. A group of boys walks into the room and one of them announces, “The Dream Team is back!” These kinds clearly think they got this thing in the bag. Now my part starts: “Pst kid, c’mere… You so sure you gonna win? Yeah? Well why not make a lil bet of it?” The kid stares at me uncertainly, so I continue, “$50 bucks your group doesn’t win and mine does.” He starts to smirk and I can tell he thought it a sure bet. We shake hands and then he sits down. Getting him to make the bet is the easy part, now I just have to turn these kids against each other. With a little encouragement they’ll be looking like a “‘Bunch of chickens at a peckin’ party’” (57). The group begins to go over answers and it gives me the perfect opportunity to sabotage. I quickly whisper to my group members, “don’t pay no attention to what I’m saying, I’m just gonna try ta throw the other groups off.” I raise my voice and shout, “Naw, I really think number 27 is C, I mean it’s clearly a simerlie. Hey you, don’t you dare put D for number four or you’ll be losing big time.” The kids stare at me in shock as I continue to yell and call people out. Short after, the teacher calls time and you just shoulda seen the looks on their faces. Not a single group has finish fillin’ out their sheets, what a pity. One kid from each group stands up to deliver their incomplete answers. The teacher starts to read through all the answers nice and slow-like, trying to build suspense. She even has a kid keeping score and such. Haha all them kiddies is starting to sweat, but not me, no siree I am cool as a cucumber. I glance at the clock and the day’s just about over. My team’s in the lead and there aint no chance of any team catching up. I lean over to the kid on the Dream Team and say, “Cash’ll do just fine, thank you very much.”

Talking with Nurse Ratched

Nurse Ratched: Katherine Connolly, 18 years of age, appears to be in good health. Miss Connolly… Would you mind telling me again why you are here?

Me: What? Oh, yeah, sure. Well, I basically think I should be locked up.

Nurse Ratched: That is not the type of terminology we prefer to use. Do you mean that you think you are a good candidate for one of our psychiatric wards?

Me: Um… Yep. I’m pretty much nuts.

Nurse Ratched: That has yet to be determined. And we do not call our patients “nuts,” they are simply here because of their “inability to adjust to society” (167).

Me: Oh, I see. As of late I have not been very capable of adjusting to society.

Nurse Ratched: And why is that?

Me: To be honest I do not exactly know why. But I do know when it started.

Nurse Ratched: Oh? When?

Me: My junior year of high school…during AP English 11.

Nurse Ratched: What is that?

Me: An English class designed for the more… let’s just say more motivated students.

Nurse Ratched: And what exactly did this class entail?

Me: Reading and writing and talking. Then reading and writing and talking some more. It just kept going and going and going.

Nurse Ratched: So the class required a lot of work?

Me: A lot of work? A LOT OF WORK??? I ate, slept, and breathed AP English. I had a recurring nightmare in which I had to analyze a sentence that did not have ONE literary device in it. I would fall asleep in my other classes and wake with a start shouting, “It’s a synecdoche!” So yes, it was a lot of work.

Nurse Ratched: Before choosing to take this course were you informed of the many requirements?

Me: I heard it would be difficult, but I never thought it could possibly be as difficult as it turned out. But it wasn’t just the hard work…

Nurse Ratched: What do you mean by that?

Me: I do not know how to explain it. It’s just that the teacher had so many… rules! I had to put heading after heading on every piece of paper, I had to put the essay on TOP of the prompt, I had to pull quotes AND apply literary devices.

Nurse Ratched: Perhaps your teacher had a reason for doing so, after all, “everyone… must follow the rules” (25). Society puts in place certain guidelines in order to maintain a necessary balance and pattern. We must have some rules and you surely will find no lack of them here.

Me: It’s not like I mind rules or I have issues with authority or something. We just had so many rules to keep track of and I did not want to ask for clarification because— because, never mind.

Nurse Ratched: Miss Connolly, I think you were about to say something very important. I know you may feel reticent or self-conscious, but the only way we can make progress is if you are totally and completely honest with me. Now why is it that you did not want to ask for clarification on the rules?

Me: I, uh, well… I was scared!

Nurse Ratched: And what, per say, frightened you?

Me: [long pause] The teacher… Ms. Serensky

Nurse Ratched: What made you so afraid of her?

Me: She said she doesn’t like stupid people and I was afraid she would think I was stupid if I asked any questions or said anything. So I kept my mouth shut.

Nurse Ratched: Is that what led to your breakdown?

Me: Yes, right in the middle of a graded discussion. I just lost it. I started throwing desks and ripping pages out of books. But, I want to get better I really do. Do you think you can help me?

Nurse Ratched: Yes, I believe so. “We have weeks, or months, or even years if need be” (158).

Wish I had a Warning

              I do not envy Junior’s situation whatsoever. He has a very difficult home life and the whole end of the world thing is a major bummer. However, I must admit that I would have appreciated an (almost) all-knowing voice giving me helpful advice as a child. Such a presence could have helped me avoid some of my more embarrassing or trying moments. My own personal narrator would have sounded like this:

            As a child, you will think you know far more than you really do; most, if not all, children think the same way. However, with our help, you may actually have the advantage of more knowledge than the others. First of all, when you reach the age of three years old, you parents will bring another child home. He will cry a lot and sometimes emit displeasing smells. People will come to bring him gifts and have nothing for you. You will experience feelings of jealousy toward the child, but you must resist the temptation to lash out. This will only earn you timeouts in your bedroom. The cuter you act and the more willingly you sit still for photographs, the more likely it is that others will come to bring you presents as well. At the age of seven years, your parents will move your family far from home. You will threaten to run away and claim that you will never feel happy again. Do not worry, this is not true. Ohio may seem strange at first; people will say things like “pop,” instead of “soda.” Yet, you must try to maintain a positive attitude because you will grow to love your new town despite the fact that they have ten months of winter. One day, your father will offer to trim your bangs. He will only have the best intentions at heart; however, you must rebuff his offer at all costs. His in expertise will result in a fourth grade photo that looks as though you went to the salon where Edward Scissorhands works. In the fifth grade, you will discover a beautiful (or so you will think) pair of purple wooden clogs. These are not as fashionable as you think and have the tendency to set off the sound of explosions every time you climb the Intermediate school stairs. Furthermore, as a young child, you will experience the urge to twirl around the house with your eyes closed: beware and make sure to close all basement doors beforehand. Also, make sure to tie your hair back when using the blender, especially if you ever make snicker doodles. The resulting tangle could cause a rather obvious bald spot. But, remember most of all that if you do make mistakes, at the very least have funny stories to tell about them.

  These photos are probably worse than my fourth grade one

The Cuckoo Bird Flew Over... Me?

          Following the end of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, I noticed a reoccurring theme of crazy in my life. I assumed that I was just hyperaware or looking for connections in wake of data sheet mania. However, I continue to find an increasing amount of insanity in my life, despite the fact that we finished the book MONTHS ago. Unfortunately, I have noticed this unsettling pattern in myself. And all of my symptoms have been brought to light due to AP English. Exhibit A of my instability: the blog polls. I enjoy making the polls and hope others enjoying voting on them. However, this is not always the case. The number of votes on my various polls makes it painfully obvious how few people view my blog. The fact alone that I have given it this much thought may serve as a red flag, but that is not the only problem. I do not want people to see my pathetically unnoticed polls. So I vote on my polls. Multiple times. I voted on this most recent poll on my home computer, my iTouch, and at least one computer at school. And the fact that I willingly admit my obsessive behavior to the world only solidifies my insanity. But one isolated incident alone cannot land a person in a mental institution. No, my true deterioration into insanity began with the Amsterdam papers. For starters, I somehow convinced myself that a "focused paper" meant to use as few quotes as possible. I cannot tell you where this notion came from, all signs point to delusion. Upon finding out that this was not the case, I quickly went into panic mode. I even informed Ms. Serensky that I would have eight separate mental breakdowns that night. Clearly my filter was malfunctioning. The insanity only continued that night and afternoon as I wrote the paper (a painful experience that I do not wish to recount). And yet all this did not convince me of my insanity. Class today put the final nail in my crazy coffin. From the sombreros to the Spongebob piñata with a baby face, I could simply not comprehend the situation. So now, I fully know that I am crazy. I am not saying that AP English made me crazy, but there does seem to be a theme here.

Cuckoo

Assertive

         Recently, a fellow AP Englisher (who shall remain nameless) asked me how I talk in discussions. As in, how do I make it known that I want to talk next without cutting someone off. Now, most of you probably know that I like to talk and have no problem voicing my opinion. I usually try to talk when there is a lull in discussion because I hate awkward silences, and I am really sorry if I have ever cut anyone off. But anyway, I cannot honestly say that I have a specific method for leading into my talking. However, for those of you who have trouble asserting themselves in class discussion, I have a few easy tips that I think may come in handy. And as an added bonus I get to compose a blog list.

1. Bring a gavel to class. Any time you wish to speak, bang the gavel on your desk and say "order in the classroom." When everyone stops to stare at you in shock, you can quickly jump in with your point.

2. Start slow clapping. After the previous person finishes speaking, loudly and slowly start clapping so as to prevent others from talking before you.

3. Pretend to choke. This one requires some acting skills because you need to seem convincing. When the rest of the class is watching you in concern, you can make a quick recovery and start talking.

4. Fall out of your desk. Do not do this quietly, but make a big scene out of it. This will divert attention to you and give you the opportunity to make a statement

5. Form an alliance. Join forces with as many people in the classes you can and develop a secret signal. When you wish to speak, perform the secret signal in order to make the other students in your alliance start humming. This will create general confusion and allow you to speak.

6. Hide in the ceiling before class. Kick your way out and cause panic with your entrance. Everyone else will be stunned into silence.

7. Bribery. I do not want to get too specific on this one. I'm just throwing it out there; when in doubt, bribe.