Masochistic Perceptions, Trials and Truths

These are my cyberfied cerebral synapses ricocheting off reality as I perceive it: thoughts, opinions, passions, rants, art and poetry...

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Transitioning Through Purgatory With a Postcard from Satan, En Route to Nirvana....
From Prison, Back Into the Classroom and Other Neighbourhood Tales


The past 24 hours causes my mind to drift to that brief epoch in grade 8 when I discovered Satanic Death (Black) Metal. I remember one song in particular by the English band, Venom – I think it was on their “At War With Satan” (the with meaning along side and not contrary to) – titled “AAArgh, Fuck, Kill”. Such is the backdrop to this particular phase of my being.

The first part of my 24 decent made the suppertime news (see link: http://www.edmontonsun.com/News/Edmonton/2006/09/05/1803152-sun.html )
. We have an arsonist in the neighbourhood who has been setting people’s trash cans on fire in the back alley. The individual(s) set a fire, damaging the siding of a garage on the corner of our street which was extinguished. They proceeded to set a second fire in the garbage of the house directly across the street from us. This engulfed their garage. The teenage girl who was in a significant flap told me that her dad was in the back of the house trying to put out the fire because there was a full 100lb propane tank inside. I ran through their house to find the guy (who is a rather ‘large’ and hairy fellow) standing there in his Speedos with a pathetic little hose squirting this completely engulfed building (honestly, it was worthy of a B rated comedy - if I were hyperbolising here I'd have said he was a kitten). I had to physically take him by the scruff of the neck and pull him away. Shortly afterwards, a massive fireball spilled into the sky and literally ate the next-door neighbours garage in a single swoop. Fortunately, the Fire Department contained the blaze to the two structures, though both homes were melted down to the frames. It is so horrible to see someone else’s place go up, not to mention the cause. Needless to say, when the dogs bark at someone in our alleyway, we draw pictures of their descriptions.

…So this leads me to my first day with students…. Have I mentioned “AAAArrgh, Fuck Kill” yet? That was most certainly the inner tune being played by my inner voice. Outer voice was exercising lots of effective uses of silence. In fact, for one of my Social classes, it was an hour of this. I’m glad for my experience at the prison as pre-prison Ed would’ve been bent out of shape by this. Now, though I’m completely spent, I can take it in stride and see that I am making headway. Interestingly enough, it my lower functioning kids that are the most cooperative/enthusiastic. I am haggard as I fall upon theses type keys, but, overall, am really glad to have made the switch from working as a Correctional Officer. It looks like I’ve got out of the gate at a good pace, now it’s a matter of keeping it up until I can find my stride.

So, life plods away with its moments and magic. May the road rise to meet you all as well!

1 Comments:

  • At 11:12 a.m. , Anonymous Anonymous said...

    You young people! Wait until you are old and 'fuck' is a distant memory, either as a verb or a noun. Reflexively, being fucked is part of working "for a living" and not yet "living". Sorry about my Neil Young, Bob Dylan and John Prine/TomWaits attitude. Can't jump, can't dance, can't say 'fuck' if my mouth is full of it. Guess who? cockroachanon, nodrogout....

     

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