Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Be vewy, vewy quiet--the Mewidian is gwading papers

But in the meantime he feels compelled to take a break and ask this question: what does one say to a student who claims in an essay, in all apparent seriousness, that as a child he wanted to be like Elmer Fudd?

As you were. I'll be back in a few days.


fearful_syzygy said...

Might I inquire what the topic of this essay was?

John B. said...

The assignment was to write a persuasive paper; the student decided to write a paper in support of gun control. One of his arguments was that TV and other media images often seem to celebrate guns and their use, and he said that when he was young he wanted to be like Elmer Fudd, who owned a gun and was constantly shooting people in the head. My student seemed not to notice, though, that Mr. Fudd's experiences with guns are such that they would cause a highly-impressionable child to want to stay as far away from guns as possible.

But never mind all that. Let's just say that this essay was not among the more effective ones I have received from my students.

KoldKadavr said...

Gotta lotta say. I was only a naïve 19 when I began… and finished my novel with a plethora of extremely helpful insights which you may have not yet realized; engrossing wit, sardonic satire; and basically straight-forward-Jesus that’d make anyone cognizant this is only a test of our Finite Existence. For we alone decide which Eternity to go to, Upstairs or DownTown, because we alone have free-choice. Thus, God Almighty respects U.S. when we arrive at the Final Judgment because sHe loves U.S.

Phazers on stun. I talk of a Heavenly Scent, an ardent desire with the whiff of a definite locale, while I bolster the mean, Great Beyond with the passion of a magnanimous madman: Full of some gorgeous, panoramic, tall-true-tales making U.S. yearn and sigh for Heaven Above; A novel of short-stories, quotes, prayers, poetry, hardcore-heartbreaking-hilarity, aggressive conundrums, Salvador-Dali-homily, and some savvy-MHz, avant-garde, Phat-Boy-Christianity from a severely, head-injured Catholic you might call crazy. That’s, uh, all very well-N-good... but, yet, who ever said YOU were sane? Touché? After this is all over, I expect Him to edit my theoretical cranium. I seeeriously doubt He will, though. Jesus loves the crazies who aren’t necessarily conformed by what others think.

What you’ll find in my wonderful, fruitFULL, dynamic novel is an indelible treasure, unlike any other in the known cosmos. It’s by moi. And I’m one-of-a-kind. Not bragging, brudda. He threw away the mold. ONE o’me is plenty HeeHee If you decide to read this delicious script, get in touch with my CPA, Edward Foree, at 1-785-266-9111. Out this month. Poifect for both X-mass and/or evangelism!


R. Sherman said...

If I can remember that far back to when I graded papers, I didn't say anything. I just set myself on fire. Ah, pleasures of freshman English!


Clublint said...

Kill the wabbit.

That's what you say.


PS: You made me type "blsfbgmz"