pillars are forced, to be eyed.
things happen late at night. The
narrates.
night, when the yards are closed and many are operating without supervision was not it, the teachers sneak climbing over the railings and gates, going upside down, yards-shed, and steal so many bags cement in order to fill the head, to knock knock dell'indomani soni not empty, especially in the morning, before the time posted and rotating circular (the extent to which they live).
fault of their collapsing houses really, the rat Night of the cement.
But because of them, which have expanded well in this cement head that expands like a lava flow, collapse the kids, rainbow, from wall to wall, along with benches verdemoccio (which Caracalla), and besides scatter like amoebae in pond after school until they meet, the amoebae girls, incidentally, copulating, making tongue in his mouth, giving birth to other brats, idiots from birth, neurons bathed in cement.
Goodbye James.
I remember the high school teacher of English girl a little 'splashed in eyes and full of good pace. I remember that participated much in the manner, dell'anticonformismo (à la page ... I say that fasci?).
One day he came to talk about Joyce and read excerpts pulled at random. Tracks, as they say. He confessed that he had read, everything!, said it as if it had complied ligiamente (coartatasi crumpled) a duty of conscience irrefutable. She said with satisfaction, however, I read it, a year, mo 'no, took me a year! leggetevelo if you want, I do not reread that I have already read it! ...
She had his done his duty. He had read the 'Ulysses lappa as hot milk, a bitch, with the fast sheet and the language of the pupil loses the bus ... the buses saliscendono yellow flower in the hills ...
What an effort, though!
L 'Ulysses made me walk on the razor blade, I can say. As soon as I started it I was struck by lightning, the lightning that I have experienced that sense of mental impotence in front of only four books in all, essoquesto inside the group.
I could teach something to me that these professors of geological ciangottano calcified and paintings in the rock eroded by sea water. But then what satisfaction would it be? The point, of convenience, is another: you can not continue to teach literacy studentoli from the first grade to specialist-course. Literacies to university. Christ! And not even need, if we are full of illiterate people, especially those returning ...
However, there are too 15 years to learn to read the newspaper and write email e-mail ... then forget it? All those years, really rounded up to life with black pudding, pulled off the bed, for vacations in the quicksand. To translate, to quote CB, Dante in Italian journalism. Years and years doodling hearts on the sighs of the absorbent, the saber-dozen teachers and thousands of ten, eight nine, and promotions in libation ... and the Minister of Education who barely manages to cut some fund that will make all donkeys Cacarica to the IEA, also when you should cut the food in the school! Deduct all blackboards, chalks, banquets, concrete, rubble, principals, janitors, teachers, booklets, libraries ... buildings. All expropriated, no matter what.
If they know only to ensure literacy precarious and shaky, throw in the towel! it is useless for the sheep leading the sheep again.
Someone, in less time, will teach them how to make the sticks and put them on rough paper. In less time.
Exit (professorial tail).
(I know, James, God forbid, you've never stolen a bit of lime in your life! You have taught (or not) to write a bandwagon of writers!)
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