Alarming News: I like Morgan Freeberg. A lot.
American Digest: And I like this from "The Blog That Nobody Reads", because it is -- mostly -- about me. What can I say? I'm on an ego trip today. It won't last.
Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: We were following a trackback and thinking "hmmm... this is a bloody excellent post!", and then we realized that it was just part III of, well, three...Damn. I wish I'd written those.
Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: ...I just remembered that I found a new blog a short while ago, House of Eratosthenes, that I really like. I like his common sense approach and his curiosity when it comes to why people believe what they believe rather than just what they believe.
Brutally Honest: Morgan Freeberg is brilliant.
Dr. Melissa Clouthier: Morgan Freeberg at House of Eratosthenes (pftthats a mouthful) honors big boned women in skimpy clothing. The picture there is priceless--keep scrolling down.
Exile in Portales: Via Gerard: Morgan Freeberg, a guy with a lot to say. And he speaks The Truth...and it's fascinating stuff. Worth a read, or three. Or six.
Just Muttering: Two nice pieces at House of Eratosthenes, one about a perhaps unintended effect of the Enron mess, and one on the Gore-y environ-movie.
Mein Blogovault: Make "the Blog that No One Reads" one of your daily reads.
The Virginian: I know this post will offend some people, but the author makes some good points.
Poetic Justice: Cletus! Ah gots a laiv one fer yew...
The Polite Word For This Is “Nonsense”
Yesterday toward the end of Rush’s second hour, he made mention of this story. Those listening at the time will recall it to be about the f-word quota, where if you’re a student at this secondary school, you get to swear up to five times per lesson. You can even use the f-word, but the teacher will keep score and if you go over that five-time limit, you’ll get — oh, the horror! — a lecture that you shouldn’t be doing that.
The school in question is Weavers Secondary School in Wellingborough, UK. The most informative link I could find, is here.
The rule allows kids to use the f-word against their teachers five times a lesson. Which means, the poor kids can abuse their teachers just about 30 times a day. No more.
Parents of children who attend the Weavers School in Wellingborough were told about the policy through a letter, the Daily Mail reported. The letter says: �Within each lesson the teacher will initially tolerate (although not condone) the use of the f-word (or derivatives) five times and these will be tallied on the board.�
So not only does the teacher have to take the abuse, he or she will also have to keep the score � and �speak to the class� if the tally is high. This is effective next week.
The school says that it is part of a policy of containment, aimed at a particularly profane bunch of 15-16 year-olds. Headmaster Alan Large defended his stand (and his students) saying: �The reality is that the f-word is part of these young adults� everyday language�.
I’m entirely unclear on whether the five-utterance quota applies to the class, or to each student. This is somewhat important. If it applies to the class, and you and I are in class together, and you use it four times, then I can only use it once before we all have to get that painful lecture, you peckerhead. If it applies to each student, then a substantially greater part of that blackboard will be taken up with the tallying, and what’s even better is we can wait until the teacher turns around to write something on the board and squeek out the f-word with a little voice-throwing effect, and oh think of the disrupting power that would have over today’s lesson.
Knowing how young boys work, I’d be worried about one who didn’t try this, or wasn’t at least tempted to.
This would be much less damaging to the learning atmosphere if they just made a policy that said the f-word was allowed unconditionally. You can break a rule five times and it doesn’t matter until the sixth time? What kind of world are they preparing these kids to get into?
I’ve never been in the UK. Maybe I’m learning something. Hey Bobbies, can I come over there with my stupid yankee driving, and make five laps in the round-about in the wrong direction before you pull me over?
Ooh, do I get to own up to five handguns?
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