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Whose Graduation?
In light of a recent revelation by certain out of control, middle-aged tyrants, I believe our school is owned and operated by at least twenty yellow and green gremlins. The revelation I'm speaking of is that the approaching graduation does not pertain to the senior class, but everybody else instead. Along with this revelation comes the idea that members of the senior class have little to no say in how the graduation is run. It seems to me that individuals should be entitled to the fruits of their labor. Let's take into account a few of these. We have been told how to dress and what to say for four years. We have been told what classes to take and how many credits to have for four years. We have, for the most part, obeyed the rules and requirements set forth by, at times, a very controlling faculty. But most importantly, those of us who will be graduating will have worked for four years, passing the required amount of classes, for the exclusive purpose of graduating. that, to me, indicates that the graduation might indeed have something to do with those graduating. Should we not, then, be able to decide how to display the public testimony of these accomplishments to our family and peers? This writer certainly thinks so, and I have a feeling that the rest of the class of '99 would agree. Rant of a Winter Rat "April is the cruelest month, Breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire."-T.S.Eliot I'm going to step out on a limb here and attack something most people enjoy. this thing is neither an establishment nor a person. It is a |
season and it is spring. Before you dismiss me as any one of the countless rabble who claim that their life is horrible, take into account that I am not rebuking my own life, but only the collective lives of the masses who engage in futile attempts to obtain pleasure, of which I am undeniably a part.
The flowers grow, leaves sprout, and the sun warms our backs. this is usually a sign of better conditions, yet I smell a rat. It seems as though spring is trying to fool me. Laughter fills the air and the general cries seem to welcome you to the party, but I refuse. I prefer to take a step back and view the feigned smiles, glassy eyes, and hunger for lust of the twitterpated morons infesting the halls. what I saw when I did this was quite confusing to me. In the birth of a new season, many people engaged in relationships that seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. this brought about a sensation that can be described as nothing less than nausea with a drop of anger. Perhpas I'm nothing but a jealous, insignificant loser who longs to be one of the crowd, but can't. Perhaps I'm an intelligent, thought-provoking writer who has a profound philosophy for an otherwise lost generation. I'm neither. I'm merely the most ignorant of people who missed a train that no one seemed to tell me about. but from the looks of the shallow relationships on public display, I don't think I'm missing much. "SHALL I PART MY HAIR BEHIND? DO I DARE TO EAT A PEACH? I SHALL WEAR WHITE FLANNEL TROUSERS, AND WALK UPON THE BEACH. I HAVE HEARD THE MERMAIDS SINGING, EACH TO EACH. I DO NOT THINK THAT THEY WILL SING TO ME."-T.S. Eliot |