BACK TO SCHOOL: Advice from the Dead - Volume 10 Issue 9
By Leeore Schnairsohn
Socrates once said, “My goldfish are dead: How is it, then, that I am supposed to live?”
My goldfish are dead as well, died of one eating disorder or another, and this brings to my mind how alike my fish and my summer really are–both are gone, leaving no trace except memories and fish droppings. I suppose this is what death is like as well; all you have left is the excrement: a husked shell of a body which you stopped using for anything useful months ago, a beerbelly full of broken dreams and dashed hopes, a brain that you destroyed in college and which you ceased to use in later years (and also which has been going loony on you recently), and, depending upon whether you believe it or not, something that looks kind of like you and floats in the air scaring people. Just the waste. The horrible waste of a life meaningless and devoid of any excitement, a life started on Gerber, brought up on Five Paragraph Essay, nurtured on the New Curriculum, spent on the Fast Track, and ended, most likely, on Gerber as well. Just like goldfish. Dead, dead, dead.
Welcome back to school. How are your classes? How was your summer? Oh, really? Well, that’s very interesting. Mine was the same old thing… you know. Yes, that’s very funny. No, I don’t know where I’m applying. You? Oh, yes that’s very interesting…. ha, ha, ha, ha, ha… yes, I’ll be seeing you… ha, ha, yes, that’s funny!...........bastard.
Have you participated in the above exchange recently? If you have, and you probably have, then you’re probably as emotionless as I am about being back here. Anyway, based upon my limited experience here, I have a few words of advice to offer to you who have nothing else better to read. Here they are:
To Middle Schoolers:
It’s too bad that you have to walk up and down the staircases of Ware too much. Consider this your only setback, though. Middle school affords you a lifetime of opportunity squeezed into two short years. Matt Groening calls these years “The Deepest Pit in Hell.” At the dances, try dancing with everybody, and if this bores you, then dance with only people whom you like. Sort of shift your weight back and forth between your feet when dancing and bounce up and down. This is known as the Middle School Shuffle. Everybody does it. If you feel so inclined, try your hand at the Electric Slide. Whatever you do, don’t go to a dance without:
Picking out someone to be in “like” with.
Asking that cutie to dance.
Asking him/her to dance repeatedly (only on slow songs) until he/she gets the message.
Walking with them out into the hall and listening to them tell you they just want to be friends.
Picking someone else out and repeating cycle.
Remember that no emotion whatsoever is involved in this process (unless you’re sensitive) and, while you may not see the immediate gain in it, it has to be done. Otherwise you fail and they start giving you grades instead of comments.
Don’t go to other people’s parties without playing kissing games. If you don’t participate, you’ll lose out on what is known as “Society’s Repression of Sexuality.” Giggle a lot and pretend that you’re mature enough to rip your jeans without asking your mother first.
To Freshmen:
The only thing you really have to worry about is doing more work than you’ve ever been accustomed to and having it evaluated and graded mercilessly. Easy. All you have to do to survive this is join what is known as a clique. Cliques are defined as: “Whoa... so we’re all going to Jamie’s house to look at J. Crew catalogues and drink rum & Cokes till we puke…” Some of the options available are:
The Jamie’s House people
The artsy-fartsy black-wearing people
The jazz musician people
The lunch table people
The strung-out hippie/junkie people
The science lab people
The Goodwin people
Advanced Jamie’s House
You will find that these options expand as your class grows larger. At Lochearn (or wherever you go for your retreat), close your eyes and pick a dance partner. If he or she is attractive, then form a loose emotional attachment and let this fester for fifteen minutes .Then: grab him or her, take him/her out to the woods, and explore as far as your clique regulations will allow (Hippies/Junkies, you’re all set. You have a loose reputation; it’s in your contract). This is what’s known as a “Feeble Strike against Sexual Repression.”
Laugh a lot – for most of you, this is your last chance. Take advantage of English classes and Class IV talks; they might not seem like fun, but, oh, will you remember them fondly as you enter...10th Grade.
To Sophomores:
This is the year to slip back and try to become as inconspicuous as possible. This is also the time to work your way into organizations so that you’ll be ready for important-sounding positions when you’re older. The only problem with sophomore year is losing your sense of identity. To help combat this, your cliques have expanded, to further tell you who you are, into the following:
Sex fiends
Mountain-school applicants
Athletes
Rumormongers
Scuzzy freaky people
Be mediocre, and enjoy this transition from sort of easy to back-breakingly difficult. As far as relationships go, pick an unsuspecting freshman and impress him/her with your worldliness. This will become an important part of your junior year, as he/she will serve as some reminder of the freedom/happiness you once thought you knew. If you have sex, use a condom and don’t be too weird unless you get really desperate.
To Juniors:
Eric Bogosian, a brilliant playwright and actor, observes that we are all dogs. This especially applies to juniors. You will find yourself barking out incoherent five-paragraph essays, begging for a B, rolling over to acquire as many dippy extracurriculars as possible, and occasionally chasing your tail out of boredom. You will find that your cliques have become packs, and have slimmed themselves down to the following:
Those who have it
Those who don’t
You
Express your opiniones loudly and go to college office meetings. Become friends with seniors so that you know what the college process will be like. Take standardized tests until you drop dead from exhaustion. Worry, worry, worry.
If you go to dances, make sure to either:
Go to the graveyard and be obnoxious about sex,
Go to the graveyard and be obnoxious about drugs (although I wouldn’t recommend this), or
Sulk and trip happy people.
Junior spring is where most of your opinions will be formed. You will either become enamored of or disenchanted with harmful substances. Lie in the grass and go to a lot of loud concerts. Make the most of your summer.
To Seniors:
Stop reading this and go back to work.
Take these advices heartily or with a grain of salt. Trust in my experiences or reject them out of sheer disdain and scorn. My summer is dead, and they are all I have left – my droppings.