Romantic fiction and its place in the modern school system..

I have been asked to rally the troops so to speak, as the headmaster says we are due and inspection by NASA or is it GCHQ or the RSPCA, well who ever does school inspections to assess how we are doing since we became an academy. There is talk of manipulation of figures and cooking the books by the government. This is not good, have you ever tried to eat a cooked book or even read it, it is extremely difficult particularly if boiled and someone tells you it is semolina pudding with pink icing. It is amazing just how much semolina the works of Barbara Cartland will produce, on the bright side though the school Library has no longer got a romantic fiction section.

Anyway back to the point, it appears that the Headmaster has also manipulated his statistics and has slightly lied about the number of pupils attending the school. So in order to rectify this we are going to make papier-mâché pupils to help with the pupil numbers. And just by luck the school semolina was rather unpopular seeing how it is a paper based pudding so we have estimated we can make at least 50 new pupils with it.

So we spent much of the day in the art class making robots, sorry I mean pupils out of  papier-mâché, well that was the plan; but it did not entirely go to plan. Esmeralda does not like the present school bus driver and has made a replacement one to replace him. I tried to explain it can’t drive but she reckons it will do a better job than the present one. It is not entirely his fault since pointy sticks became part of the school uniform some pupils say he might be a Zombie and are rather enthusiastic with their pointy sticks.

Freddie has spent the day making papier-mâché ferrets and we at least do have 25 new school ferrets although the headmaster says they don’t really count. Well that’s not true they can count to twenty three and a half without assistance (that’s the real ferrets not the papier-mâché ferrets).

I as a member of The Monty Cardboard Robot Club felt duty bound to do my duty and make a robot, so I did and although the headmaster said it was quite a good robot it was not going to convince the inspectors it was a pupil even if it did threaten to destroy them with its death ray and pointy stick.

Tomorrow we plan to work on plan B well I say we I mean the headmaster, he says our help was well intentioned but rubbish, personally I think it was the choice of book; romantic fiction has never really made good school pupils………. 

Tinker Tailor Teacher Spy . . . . . Media Studies and a Bat

One of the things about being a part time teacher and also a pupil at our rather grand modern academy, OK I say grand it has a grand facade on the main entrance, but that is a distraction; back to the point. At present school is like a spy movie, I am a bit like Sir Alec Guinness in Tinker Tailor Teacher Spy, if I walk into the teacher’s recreation room for a hot chocolate all the teachers stare at me and go silent. Some of them have been saying that specializing in Obscure Irrational Theories and Zombie Defence Classes are not real subjects, although I did upset the Media Studies teacher when I said Media Studies was even more useless that my subjects. And now I am starting to get the feeling that I may be being watched as I am seeing shadows lurking in corners and doorways.

In order to get into the full spy film feel I have put bugs in the headmasters office, mainly crane flies (Daddy Long Legs) as there are loads of them hiding in the hedge rows and playing dead in our house, when I say playing dead I mean dead but I was breaking the news to you gently. Which reminds me, this morning when I got up there was a tiny little bat on the carpet in our library (yes we have a library which sounds posh, but it is not really), the little bat was also playing dead rather well (again I am breaking the bad new to you gently)  . . . . . . . it was dead.  I don’t know how it got into the house or what happened to it, but some of the pupils at today’s Zombie Defence Class this afternoon said it might have been a remote control Vampire bat sent to spy on me by the Media Studies teacher who is probably a Zombie and that they will test their defence moves on him in class tomorrow. So all that had actually happened was the batteries had gone flat…… So best to think of the little beast as a Spy-bat with flat batteries rather than a cute little furry bat that is dead……. It’s a tough cruel world, I’m glad I have my trusty pointy stick……..

Surely spy movies are meant to have moles in them, not bats and media study teachers. 

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The end of Art as we know it, and too much enthusiasm for small people....

As this week is the last week of the school year before the big summer holiday which as it happens usually means it rains loads, although dad insists it will be OK as he has finally sorted the Weather Machine after having to turn it off a couple of weeks ago to tweak things. I have told dad that once he turned it off the sun came out and it has been really hot here ever since but he assures me that unless he gets it working this week it is bound to rain during the school holidays.  Which brings me back to the point I was making, today I was in the local Junior School in Monty for what was the very last art class this year with the over enthusiastic small children who as it happened we a bit frazzled and hyper. I think a combination of heat (yes it is hot) and the prospect of seven and a half weeks of holidays meant they were mentally slightly scrambled and over excited, I am never over excited myself, in fact I have mastered the skill of non excitement to that of a grand master….. I did smile a bit once but I got away with it as it was in the dark.

 When I left I was given a home-made card, well when I say home-made I mean School made card with pictures of our final work OK not the Dragonfly as that was finished tonight; and I was given two bottles of Monty Ale. I know I am the eccentric child of cyberspace and therefore tea total (I do drink a lot of tea) but it was a lovely thought and many folk are now saying that they just fancy a nice cool bottle of locally brewed beer and don’t know where to get one from. However it has been decided that we will keep the bottles of beer for Mr F on his next trip to see us…

I will be away now until Friday afternoon as we are off to the Funeral of Miss A, Mr F’s wife so it may now be Saturday before I post the next exciting instalment of my diary, Yes I know I said I don’t do excitement but of course I am very aware that all my readers are excited by my diary entries (OK that is more than 1 and less that 10) but then who really reads that Shakespeare chap.

Luckily Miss I and Mr S will be holding the fort . . . . .. I am not sure about that saying, forts are usually huge stone buildings and trying to pick one up to hold it is near on damn impossible, even chiselling out a few stones from say a tower near the draw bridge and holding them is not easy. For one thing you get shouted at loads.  

The rather unforgiving properties of structural integrity and gravitatianal stability in Art

Tuesday the day of teaching young children art, well I use the word teach loosely because if there is one thing I can’t do it is teach young children.  I arrived at the local junior schools after school club slightly early while they were still getting food and drink to keep them lively and bouncy. Luckily I had managed to turn a crocodile, a dragonfly and a dog which the children drew last week into large cardboard self standing cardboard things, although I did have to tweak just a few tiny things to deal with the rather unforgiving properties of structural integrity and stability. Yes even art can not entirely escape the forces of gravity and nature sadly, which as an artist I have to admit is rather annoying. However very young children are not entirely aware of the overall principles of structural integrity and generally see gravity as a mere trifle to wave away as unimportant, until they fall over and drop their trifle. 

They also eat artistic ideas like a huge man eating sea monster eats men on Brighton beach on a sunny bank holiday Monday when it is knee deep in holiday makers and sea monster watchers and ice cream is half price during happy hour. Of course happy hour under those circumstances is less happy that it could be as everyone (and that’s loads of folk) are being eaten by a sea monster or monsters.  I would say that teaching art to small children is much like being eaten by sea monsters, I am starting to think I may have to make some sea monsters in order to keep them focused on art, although I did do one sneaky thing with today’s lot I mentioned maths. This I thought would slow them up a bit but for reasons I find difficult to comprehend it appears they are all rather keen on a bit of maths and it did not slow the whiz of pencils and the snipping of scissors as I tried to explain that most legs are a bit fatter at the top of the leg where it joins the body and thin at the other end and at least one lad did realize this after all the legs fell off his spider drawing when he cut it out. In the end a bit of Algebra confused them and square roots seemed to confuse a couple of them a bit, but they are only about seven; interestingly algebra and square roots seem to confuse folk who are seventy also, but I guess 7 is not the best number for square roots.

I would mention the rest of the day but I need to rest. . . . . . 

Icicles, Old Fred and a Sherbet Bon Bon and Conceptual Art

It was only yesterday that I was saying that I would easily win this year’s icicle contest at the local fete in August and already today I have had a disaster, after a great start at breakfast where the icicles were award winning size and I was dreaming of the gold rosette and my prize money of 25 pence. You never enter a village fete contest in Britain to win your fortune, it all about the glory of beating Old Fred up the road who has won for the last twenty five years using his secret manure, a recipe handed down over millions of years.

So there I was proudly watching my prize winning icicles when they were struck by a change in the weather which caused an outbreak of thaw, it was terrible within a time frame of less that an hour they had all vanished. Even as I ate breakfast they were falling and smashing on the ground. My only thought was what would Old Fred do, so I phoned him, I thought he is not a nasty old malicious grumpy bloke who would stoop to low underhand tactics to ensure he always wins the icicle contest at the local fete. So I explained to Old Fred what had started to happen and there was a long silence then hysterical laughter and then we got cut off. I don’t know what happened, I tried ringing back straight away but there was no answer.

An hour or so later Old Fred called round to say he was just popping in to make sure my icicles were gone, and then said how terrible it was before he wondered off again. I was planning to ask how he managed to save his but by then he was laughing hysterically again and pointing at a clean empty gutter devoid of icicles.  I am not sure that Old Fred has entered into the spirit of village life in quite they way I was told the locals did. 

 

 In other news I have dismantled the art class wall today as part of a piece of performance art, the art teacher said he wanted to see something new and innovative, not just another picture to hang on the wall painted in cheap school water colours. But then he got called away because his dad who it turned out was called Old Fred had chocked on a Sherbet Bon Bon while telling Mrs Old Fred about an unfortunate incident in the village that he thought was highly amusing, but sucking a Sherbet Bon Bon while laughing and waving your hands about is not a good idea.

So while Young Fred the art teacher was off giving Old Fred the heinrich maneuver we were left to fend for ourselves. And we all thought if we dismantled the art class if would be a brilliant piece of conceptual art and Young Fred would not have to worry about hanging up all those dodgy pictures of the school goat ever again. As it happened Young Fred did not get back to school until after our class had finish art and was in the Maths class. But it appears he was unable to find his class and when he went to see the Headmaster the Headmaster shouted a lot. Young Fred did ask us if we had seen his class but Esmeralda told him that it had thawed . . . . . . . . .HA HAHHAH HAH Hah ah hhahhaahha ah hhah ha hah ahhah ah ahhah hahahhah 

              

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The Spy who came in from the cold, or was it go out?

Not quite so windy today, I thought I’m British I must comment but that is done now so I will move on. Last night I got a secret message to say that Miss Fionaski was coming across to deliver a secret package to mum and I was not to say a word only that Miss Fionaski would arrive at 11.00am. Luckily I think by then I had already written my daily diary entry so the news of the secret package did not make it. I sometimes forget that secrets are best not written in a diary that is read my thousands and MI6 on the internet, it is an easy thing to forget after all in the good old days of paper your diary was where you wrote secrets. Then years later the secret diaries would be published and all the friends of the person whose diary it was would call then a Bl********** ******* ******** back stabber and sue for libel. By publishing my diary online where the entire world can read it my friends know what I have written so still call me a Bl********** ******* ******** back stabber, but it is difficult to sue. Just look at the case of Esmeralda flushing the headmaster’s toupee down the toilet this afternoon. She would have got away with it, if it was not for the fact it blocked the main sewer pipe. Then the plumber thought it was a huge rat and the environmental health man examined it and found the headmasters name on the name tag. The headmaster was not happy about the fact he had to explain it was not his pet rat but his hair. It did not help either when the environmental health officer said it was not a hare because the ears were too small . . . . . . . HAH HAHAHH HAHHAH HHAHAHAHH HAHH Ah hah ah ahah ahaha hahahahh hah ha

Anyway what was I saying AH yes it was not as windy today . . . . . Hang on no not that; Miss Fionaski came to see us at 11.00 am and delivered the secret package to mum who was surprised because luckily it was still a secret . . . .PHEW. then she showed us her latest spy outfit apparently they are all the fashion in the spy business these days and are designed to confuse border guards who are disorientated and think you are going in the opposite direction to the way you are going. I have supplied a picture but if you are reading the best selling paperback this is a jumper with the buttons at the back so you look like you are standing the wrong way round you cant undo the buttons because it is not easy to do up buttons on your back and it would hinder your escape over the border.  The world of spies and espionage is all very strange.

Oooooo I may have made a cake today but it is a secret . . . . . . . . . . .DAMN 

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Proof once and for all that we are all in fact androids . . . . . LET THERE BE LIGHT.

This morning when I got up I took my watch off and I noticed strange mechanical marks on my wrist under where the watch had been. I have not noticed them before, I assume because they had been hidden by the watch. I then wondered if watches were something we had to wear to hide the marks that would prove once and for all that we are all in fact androids. I therefore decided the best thing to do is ask someone who is not a human as other humans would also be androids, so I asked the dog, he sniffed my wrist and chewed it a bit and then said yes definitely an android and not even one of the latest models…… Damn; so I am an android. On the School bus I told the other pupils that I was an android and took my watch off to show them, then they took their watches off and they found mechanical marks under their watches too. So they were all androids as well. Well Freddie appeared not to be an android but he does not wear a watch, so we all decided that people with watches on must be androids and those with no watches are not, although interestingly enough they also can not tell the time very well.

In school luckily enough we had metal work all day and so we asked the metalwork teacher about all of us (not Freddie) being androids and he suggested that it might be good to build an android based on one of us to get an idea of what we looked like under our human disguise. I did say we could just cut the outer bit off, but he thought we might accidently cut though some cables just under the surface of our skin; that was good thinking but then he is a metalwork teacher and wears a large watch. So I then became the person the android was based on because I was first to notice I was an android. The school android however became more robot due to time restrictions and in order to make it do stuff we have to fall back on the principles of Clockwork Automated Logic.

Because the robot was based on me it was a friendly looking robot, I am you see very friendly, but the teacher insisted that we program in what he called Variable Random Stupidity, he refused to explain what that was, but I am not sure I agree with that.  Still by the end of the day it was finished and we wound it up to see what would happen. As it started to move . . .. . . Esmeralda who is mainly electro-mechanical anyway these days (after being eaten by the goat) said LET THERE BE LIGHT so The Clockwork Mechanical Rob Robot marched outside and brought back a lamp post from the street. Well that was a bit silly, but the metalwork teacher said it was the built in Variable Random Stupidity and just the sort of thing I would do……. THAT’S NOT FAIR.

Oooooooo by the way we finally got our big box of snowflakes ready for winter, one good thing about them is they are all different and specially made by an expert snowflake maker. . . . . . . . . WELL COOL (cool ….. HAH HAHAHA HAHH HAH AH HAHHAH HAH AHHAH ah hah hah ah hah ah ha )

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A rolling head gathers no moose, or two heads are better than one

So here we are the start of yet another diary year three, it is amazing how time flies past. And today was the start of school again, it is strange but it is starting to feel like I have been at this school forever. It is one of those new academies now so it means everyone will get much better exam results and look neat and tidy. Well almost everybody, it appears I am banned from meeting the media and any photo shots on the grounds that I am a reminder of what was bad in the old school. So I am no longer allowed to invite zombies and banshees into the playground without written permission from the head. Luckily there is a severed head of a moose in the wood so I thought if I put a pen in its mouth and wrote a letter then that would be OK.

I get to be head boy this year too which is a surprise? I was not expecting to be one of them EVER, but the headmaster said it is a terrible clerical error and heads will roll. I did tell the headmaster that I have already tried rolling the moose’s head and it didn’t roll very well, so if he wants a head that will roll he needs to choose a head the right shape. It was just after that I could hear him going AAAAAAuuuuuuuuuuuggggHHHHHHH a lot and saying only five more year till I get my pension before locking himself in his office. It appears I have to work until I am 102 because due to some error in government calculations, and a large number of bankers and footballers running off with loads of money, all the pension funds are worth almost as much as a decomposing moose head in the woods. As you can see we spent part of our day doing politics with a new teacher who is quite young.

It appears as head boy on the first day back at school I get to say Grace at lunch time, but I don’t know who Grace is so I mentioned a whole load of other people instead, but about half way through the headmaster ran off going  AAAAAAuuuuuuuuuuuggggHHHHHHH a lot again. I think he might be upset because now everyone has gone back to school the sun has come out and it is nice and warm.

Anyway I showed everyone a great picture of the severed decomposing moose head at lunch time because by shear coincidence it was strawberry mousse for pudding and in another amazing coincidence I found a mouse head in the chicken curry so that was WELL COOL. Only me and Freddie and the strange robot like person in the silver suit who bleeped a lot and drew pictures of some ancient mythical creature seemed to eat school lunch today. After I took the mouse head to show the headmaster, because I noticed it rolled really well, but he went AAAAAAuuuuuuuuuuuggggHHHHHHH a lot yet again….  I don’t know you do your best to help…. It appears that Mrs Harris has a head that rolls really well……

Oooooo we saw a helicopter today, we were told it was making sure we did not sneak off to the chip shop at lunchtime. Apparently this is normally the responsibility of the head boy but someone said he is an IDIOT…………… AH …….HANG ON? 

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Hieroglyphics and the Headless Horseman and a Hobbit at Halloween with a Handbag on a Helter-Skelter

The Ghost Writer has been in his grey office today with his massed Herbaceous Herds of PC’s, so His mind is Hopeless. I was rather Hoping he was going to Help with the letter H but when I asked Him, He said Ho Ho Ho  merry Christmas. Me and the dog saw the banshees again this morning so they said they would Have a word with a mate and get Him to Head over to the school in the afternoon.

As it Happened we Had History and Hieroglyphics this morning, Horus Hates  Hieroglyphics and we had to Hide Him in the Headmasters Honda  Hatchback because He said I WANT MY MUMMY……………. During History we discussed Henry the eighth and his wife’s, Helen of Troy, Old Mother Hubbard.  Katharine Hepburn and Ho chi Min. ………….. Mum has just said IDIOT.  As it turned out Henry the eighth turned out to Have a close link with the Banshees mate …………. The Headless Horseman.

The Headmaster was not happy after yesterdays visit by the Gruesome Ghouls and Ghosts so I thought I Had better warn Him about the Headless Horseman, the last thing we need is mass Hysteria. What I was not aware of is that the Headless Horseman is the leader of a Huge band of Pirates and those of you who have followed my tale for a while will be aware that the teachers love pirates so by Half past three everyone was going HAR HAR HAR HARDY HAR man the HELM and a Heave Ho me Hearty’s and lots of Hot Rum. The Headmaster said WHAT THE HELLS GOING ON, but everyone just said HAR HAR HAR HARDY HAR again. The School caretaker was not happy as the Headless Horseman, (who apparently only turned up as a result his mate Captain Nessman of the High Seas hospitality)   was bleeding all over the main Hall, still the Headless Horseman’S pet Hyena licked most of it up (YUK). The Headmaster phoned the police but they said it was pointless turning up because that Headless Horseman is like that Harry Houdini bloke and will only escape faster that a Helicopter down a rabbit Hole? Or was it a hobbit at Halloween with a handbag on a helter-skelter. And besides you can’t Hang a Headless man its Hopeless

Mum made Homity Pie  for dinner so that was YUM

And the Ghost Writer and Heavy Harry the Cat say Happy Hogmanay

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The broken coil spring and the art of nodding and shaking heads in an important way

Dad’s car needed two new tyres today so off he went to get them replaced. Only his journey was not without its troubles because his car was making rather strange noises when he tried to turn round on the drive to head off. At first he thought me and the dog had been doing car mechanic homework again, but we had not, and although there have been loads of pheasants about that might have got trapped in the steering it was not mangled pheasants.

And anyway the pheasant population is a bit low after the battle of the Alamo against the overwhelming forces of shot guns and 4X4’s.

Dad managed to get to what turned out to be a very nice man at Kwik Fit who looked at dad’s car and shook his head in a knowing way, tutting at the appropriate moment for best effect. Kwik Fit mechanics are training in head shaking and tutting because it is extremely important to do it at the right time, a bit like stand up comedians where timing is critical.

It turned out that one of the front coil springs had failed and broken which is apparently more common that people realize. Something to do with mechanics scurrying about at night with hacksaw blades and torches. So dad now has new Italian tyres on the front of his car and has to go back to have a new coil spring fitted later in the week. He did say they were a nice bunch of mechanics at Kwik Fit and extremely good at nodding and shaking heads and looking concerned. They even put little fancy chrome things on his wheels free of charge, telling dad that head office are telling then to shift them as they have loads and want to get rid of them all. Nodding and tutting at the same time in order to give the comment substance (which it did …… sort off).   

Maybe I should nod and shake my head more at school, particularly during the car mechanics lesson and I might try tutting at the headmaster during morning assembly that should impress him, he will not be expecting that. Mum said IDIOT ……. Not sure why???? The dog thinks it a great idea.

So what happened to me today well not a lot although I did see a small gang of teachers pointing and shaking their heads during the lunch brake when I was eating my curry, mash potato and sausage sandwich made with a French loaf, OK it was a bit long at three feet for my school bag and the curry did rather obscure the results of my mathematical theory of isolated systems in relativistic plasma physics. But I can only assume the teachers have been to Kwik Fit. I must tell the Kwik Fit mechanic he can’t spell.

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THE END OF THE WORLD IS NIGH. The poker made in Metalwork and loyalty points

The house move appears to have suddenly generated a huge pile of paperwork and mum and dad have been signing loads of stuff, and dad had to do  several runs to the solicitor in the car with bits of paper too and passed the school a few times.

Dad was very good because each time he passed he fired off several thunder flashes to let me know he was passing, they were well cool. It was a bit off a shock for some of the teachers, in particular the Religious Education teacher who has been very insistent that the end of the world is nigh so several large flashes and bangs and huge clouds of smoke and an assortment of pyrotechnics was final proof.  He really should never have insisted that the Headmaster repent all his sins before he went to meet the DEVIL and rot in hell; because the headmaster is sort of OK for a headmaster and Napoleon Beelzebub told me the headmaster does not have enough loyalty points yet to get into the bottom floor of his cellar.

As it happened the next mistake was to say the same thing to Esmeralda, who has found another poker now (the one John made in Metalwork). By the way the POKER is the metal thing we poke the fire with not the game of poker which the dog keeps beating me at, just thought I better say.

The R.E. teacher did plead for a bit with the Headmaster to let him in his office but the Head shouted back something about he was busy packing his suitcase for his trip to HELL and was rather busy so the R. E. teacher should appeal to Esmeralda’s better side …………. O DEAR.

We didn’t see either of them after that all day (Esmeralda and the teacher) so we will never know what happened although the dog thought he heard some screaming in the woods, but then there is always screaming in the woods.

The house move it appears is getting closer, and maybe just a few weeks away now. Lets hope the broadband link between worlds is OK or that will be the end of me YICKS.