Add. Maths

My brain felt like it had just endured several bottles of German schnapps. My neck hurt, my back hurt, my wrist hurt, my eyes could no longer focus properly. I felt like collapsing on the cold concrete and wait for the numbness in my mind to subside, or at least until I got my vision back.

As I walked home, I kept asking myself: "What the fuck happened?"

Having been left to squint at a ridiculously hard test paper in a darkened room for over two hours, I can be fairly certain it was maths. I mean, there were numbers and x's and y's and stuff, but it asked me crazy questions about binomial expansion and kinematics and crap I can't even begin to contemplate.

To say I was overwhelmed would be a bit of an understatement - Binomial expansion seems to need about a tree's worth of paper just to fit it all in and kinematics... I didn't even know such a term existed until last week.

What happened to the Jingo of old who beat 120 people in his year in the KS3 Maths SATs and basically owned everyone in the subject? Ah, those were the days when I was sharp as a knife and algebra would solve itself right in front of my eyes...

But now-a-days, I'm so confused I don't even know whether to differentiate or to integrate anymore. People walk past me, watching me slave over an equation, probably thinking to themselves: "That poor bastard, if only he knew you have to differentiate to find the gradient..."

So it's a fall from grace. I put it down to naivety, lack of revision and overconfidence (being a cocky bastard).

I have made a vow to myself that I'll revise 3 hours every night. Honest. This time I'll actually stick to it instead of procrastinating in front of the computer.

Actually, I haven't even got my results back so we'll wait and see.

The Ultimate Playlist

Over the past few days, I have been deprived of internet because the wireless on my laptop mysteriously failed. After many hours spent figuring out how a year old £1,500 laptop could just spontaneously malfunction, with the "help" of Microsoft's trouble-shooter (a total nightmare), and consulting various different tech-heads over the phone; It was discovered that I am, as my mum put it: "a total moron" as I had simply switched off the wireless inadvertantly somehow.

So to occupy those boring internet-less days, I began sorting through and listening to all the music in my iTunes library.

Since I have over 1500 songs (and an 80GB iPod video), most of the music is deprived of my attention since I favour artists I know that are good (and with over 1500 songs, I can't really remember all the tunes to them if they aren't incrediby catchy).

The solution, I realised, was to make playlists. I used to think them a waste of time, prefering to listen to albums instead. But now I'm listening to the stuff I don't usually listen, judging whether they are any good, and then sticking them in the playlist that corresponds their genre. (And if it's emo deleting it.)

I've now compiled the ultimate Electronica/Acid Jazz/Synthesised Playlist ever (Jamiroquai, Kasabian etc.). And also quite a good Alternative Mellow Rock playlist (200ish songs and a lot of R.E.M.). No longer will people laugh at my poor music selection whenever I host a party, instead admiring my awesome arsenal of kickass tunes.

It was with these potential parties in mind that I reluctantly asked Torquer for some of his music (He has maybe the worst music taste ever. It's all techno trash and Brit pop):

"That Live Lounge album is pretty good, bring that in for tomorrow," I said casually.
"If you want a copy you can buy it off me for 50p. If not piss off," Torquer replies.

Half an hour of bartering ensues. I want it for nothing, citing: "That's what friends are for!" but he won't lower the price, defending his position with: "Stop freeloading off me you hobo". Eventually we agree that if I bring in an album (I never do) he'll trade it for his.

You should see what he's like when I lose one of his pens.

"Why do you even want it? You never host any parties and it's not like you have any friends to listen to it." Torquer said.

It was at that point I ran out of the class sobbing.

Strange Snowy Substance

What is this strange substance? It's white, it's cold, and as I look out of the window; the entire neighbourhood is covered with the stuff as if God had thrown his shit-stained blanket over Liverpool.

It's been over two years since that wonderful Christmas Day back in 2004 and I've almost forgotten what snow actually looks like. Everything was was so picturesque back then: A carpet of white under a star-strewn sky, the houses powdered like cakes and children frolicking and laughing everywhere you turned.

Fast-forward to now. The snow is a pathetic inch at most and has been reduced to a disgusting brownish sludge; how it had managed to evade the acid rain and carbon emissions to reach the ground is anyones guess. If this was God's attempt at making up for two snowless years then it was nothing more than an insult. As I looked out from my window early that morning, I treated it with cold indifference. This wasn't snow you could make snowmen and ice forts out of, this was the annoying, disgusting kind that you try to tip-toe around and used rock salt to destroy.

I used to regard snow as something fantastically fun and treated it like white gold. Now-a-days it's just a cold nuisance that needs to be scraped off the car.

But this depressing bleakness did not last. Whilst in school, staring wistfully out of the window (it was Religious Studies), a blizzard formed and the clouds dumped their load of snowy goodness all over the playground. It was a Godsend. The atmosphere soon reached fever pitch as we waited for Break, which would give us a good ten minutes for us to hurl this precious substance at one another.

When the bell rang, we burst from our classrooms and hurled ourselves at the glass doors only to discover something was horribly amiss: We were in here, and the snow was out there, and a glass barrier separated us from that pearly white Heaven. What resulted was a massive crush as students tried to force the doors back in vain.

The school decided, for health and safety reasons, that locking us all in the school would be the best course of action. Since snow is such a dangerous substance, and in all likelihood someone could have suffered immense trauma from an unsuspecting snowball, therefore I respect their decision. But it was a catch 22: Keep us locked inside and face health and safety over fire risk, or let us out and face health and safety over ice and snow. Either way we were extremely pissed off.

As lessons resumed, the fire alarm went off (we later learnt a gang of lads in hoodies triggered it) and the teachers were powerless to stop us. Soon snowballs began to fly. And anarchy was rife.

I spied Torquer weaving through the crowds of snowball-hurling people as if dodging shells. Sneaking up on him, I dealt a fatal blow to the back of his head and he crumpled to the ground. Before he could even mutter "What the fuck" I'd picked up another and smashed it into his face. I laughed as he struggled helplessly on the ground, wimpering in shock.

Oh how I love snow!

P.S. I've been informed by Torquer that I must link to his post on Taster Sessions, since he's holding my business studies coursework at ransom. Go to his blog and read it; his grammar is vastly superior to mine.

Physics Challenge!

Lately my interest in physics has sparked (no pun intended), and as if on cue the school announced that they would be entering the top physicists, the creme-de-la-creme of Year 11 in the highly esteemed, much sought-after, CV-boosting, nationwide physics competition that is The Physics Challenge.

The Physics Challenge consists of just a 1 hour test paper; nothing more, nothing less. Anyone who scores above 20/50 gets a commendation, but those that score above 35/50 get their papers sent to a mysterious place in Oxford where they are evaluated and given either bronze, silver or gold award. Last year only one person (out of many) managed a bronze, which proves why it's called "challenge".

No doubt those that get Gold are the uber-geek Jedi Masters with IQs past 200 who will later be head-hunted for the International Physics Olympiad. This is no piss-easy, I-Could-Sleep-Through-This-And-Still-Get-An-A* GCSE, Hell no. This is the real deal.

If you still can't grasp the difficulty of the paper, then think University Challenge but with Physics for every round.

Now the school only offered this fantastic opportunity to those who had scored 70% (an A) in the mock, but this basically meant that everyone (even the complete morons) who take physics could enter if they wish.

Of course some won't even consider entering (we are talking about students from Liverpool after all), but I think my year group stands a chance of doing extremely well (relatively that is, compared to the other Y11s of years past). This is because this is the first Year 11 group that is not single sex and it's common knowledge that female students are vastly superior academically compared to their male counter-parts (there's no denying it, boys are lazy).

But anyway, I tried doing a past paper last night and it was, to put it mildly, impossible. I'm one of more intelligent (and modest) people in my school and I had no clue, no fucking clue. I do Further Maths which is pretty damn hard but at least I understand what needs to be done, for this I had no idea.

Even with their combined efforts, I doubt they could score more than 40/50. If you know who all three are I'd be impressed (I've got no idea why I included the one on the right, shows how few famous physicists I know).

This is something I want to do extremely well in considering how CV-driven I am. Makes me glad my dad teaches mechanical engineering.

There's also added incentive to do well on this test: my arrogant friends. Nick and Rob did extremely well in their Chemistry mocks and think they can lord it over the rest of us and developing ideas above their station. There's been a lot of banter as to who will do well in the sciences for GCSE and they've already written off my chances (my chances? wtf?). This will provide the perfect opportunity for me to burst their over-inflated egos on a higher plateau of thinking.

But, I'm now beginning to feel the pressure (again, no pun intended). I'm becoming overwhelmed by my increasing workload and it's become quite an act juggling the revision time for 9 GCSEs, 1 Further Maths and now this. By the end of it all I'll be so stressed out those that are stressed out will seem laid back compared to me. But still, if I succeed it'll blow litter-picking out of the water in terms of CV-ability.

I better get gold.

Academic Choices

Sooner or later, there comes a time when we must choices. Inevitable, career-defining choices. The kind of choices that would shape your life forever and would determine your happiness for the next twenty years.

Now with this in mind, imagine the roller coaster of emotions I went through as I sat through my taster sessions (the education equivalent of pitching products to sceptical punters. Except instead of products, think subjects. And instead of punters, think students).

Just to give some background info, I have come to the stage in my academic life when I must make the agonising choice of what subjects to take for 6th form college. It is mandatory to take four subjects at A-level, and I am taking 11 GCSEs. Therefore it leaves me with much to think about.

For the taster sessions, I had already picked five subjects I was considering: Maths, Physics, Chemistry, Biology and History (spot the odd one out?). So the purpose of today was for me to attend these sessions, listen to their feeble pitch and laugh at their pathetic attempts at convincing me their subject is the best thing since illegal downloads.

So here's my summary of the five tasters:

Biology
Went there. Sat there. Got bored.

Throughout the whole thirty minutes, the teacher couldn't stress enough the fact that people shouldn't take the subject course just for the 3-day ecological expedition.

Would anyone want to go on an expensive trip to Yorkshire (of all places) just so they can spend three nights in a shoddy YMCA and observe ecology? Pu-lease. If I wanted to wade in mud, count grass or stand in the rain I'd simply play football, or roll round in my garden when it's flooded.

Chemistry
The subject itself seemed less appealing than biology although the information given was far more useful. I'll probably end up taking it since I want to do medicine (and go to many tequila fuelled house parties like those in Grey's Anatomy).

When asked how many people in the room wanted to do Medicine, almost everyone indicated that they too shared my alcohol fueled dreams. I eyed up all the competition, and felt concerned all day.

Maths
Trust the maths session to be done by numbers! I was quoted facts, figures and percentage. Just like this paragraph, the teacher was ruthlessly efficient in delivering the details and there was time to spare. I sat for the remaining five minutes pondering my future.

History
I've got no idea why I picked this, I think I did it on impulse. The room was filled with people who had done GCSE History and I was extremely intimidated by the ginger catholic social-sciences freak sitting next to me (Torquer knows who I'm talking about!) ranting on about how the school pressurises people to take sciences.

That's all I can remember from the History taster session, which is probably why I won't take it next year.

Physics
And so we come to the last taster session.

This was the only subject that did not make any attempt to convince us to take it. The teacher said something along the lines of: "If you're not 100% committed to the course then fuck off! This course is oversubscribed as it is so I don't give a shit if you take it or not. Last year we failed a whole class of students. That's more than the number of people who subscribed for Art, failing all them was like a drop in the ocean. A drop in the fucking ocean!"

For some reason that just made me want to take Physics even more.

So that was a summary of my taster sessions. I have another litter-picking session this week-end and an options evening on Monday. Hopefully they'll make more interesting posts than this.

HSM

I'm so glad my last lesson on a Friday is IT. The class is always warm, stuffy and filled with girls ready to be impressed by my vast intellect. Usually I'll be playing online games, taking a nap or being "forced" to take the CosmoGirl quiz.

And on the subject of Cosmogirl, those tests are so demeaning! Why on Earth do girls do them? I couldn't care less if my inner girl is a total slut or my dream hunk will have blue eyes... (perhaps I do care a little...)

I digress. Last weeks IT lesson was different; a transaction was taking place.

"Have you brought it?"

Robin sits beside me in the corner of the room, he fidgets and his eyes dart from side to side. I'm playing an incredibly stupid flash game.

"The what?"

"Don't play games with me Jingo. Have you got the HSM?"

A smile flickers across my face. He's ashamed. I on the other hand have nothing to be ashamed of. Sure it was illegal, and quite frankly disturbing, but this was how I did business.

And on the subject of business, Torquer dominates the school stationery market. He sells shoddy crap at inflated prices and is known as: "The man who can locate certain things". It's a shame he doesn't deal with the illegal stuff or he'd make a killing.

"Why are you afraid of saying High Sch-"

"Shut up! I don't want anyone to know I like this shit!"

"Fine, fine... Have you brought the Cash?"

"Yeah it's right here" he says, patting his blazer pocket.

We exchange memory sticks. I take the Johnny Cash off him, he takes the High School Musical album (what a loser). Transaction complete. He skulks off to listen to his bootlegged music.

And so we come to the point of this post: High School Musical. Sure the plot is cliched and it's aimed at 9-12 year olds but damn those tunes are catchy! If I wasn't so ashamed I'd buy the encore edition right now and learn all those dance moves.

I tried to get Torquer to listen to the stuff but he threw away the headphone is disgust.

I was going to make this a massive post about my own musical tastes (varied) and my tendancy to sing in public (which freaks people out) but I can't, I have potato chip molarities to write about. Instead I suggest you buy the High School Musical Album, it's very good.

Battling The Elements

"Are you sure you want to be dropped off here?"

It was 8:30. The air was crisp, the Sun was shining and I was in the car to school. Having not had much sleep the previous night (too much hardcore gaming), I was still too bleary-eyed to realise the distance he had dropped me off from the main entrance.

"Yeah whatever," I replied groggily.

As soon as I got out the car, I realised just how big a mistake I had made. As I looked up ahead, a dark, rumbling behemoth of a cloud hung in the air and seemed to be consuming the sky. By the time I reached the path the cloud had displaced the Sun and cast the street in an ominous semi-darkness.

Then the rain came. It felt like I had walked through a waterfall, or mistakenly walked into a lake. The drops beat down upon me like God himself was machine-gunning me with bullets made of H20. I floundered helplessly as the horizontal rain slowly paralysed me with cold, drawing out every ounce of warmth from my body. I tried to run but my limbs were weary, and my blazer felt like a lead jacket.

Had the rain not stopped, I might of drowned. But thankfully it did.

When I told my mate Dave about what had happened, he laughed uncontrollably at my misfortune. In retaliation I shed water all over his bag. That showed him.

"Was it raining outside?" asked another friend, who seemed unaware that I looked like a wet dog.

"No... My boat capsized and I swam my way to school." I replied.

Some people...

***
It's 12:30 and I'm outside playing football for the P.E lesson. Once again there's torrential rain, and once again there's mind-numbing cold. But this time, I have to endure it for a full hour.

And we're 7-0 down. The only thing that will warm me remotely is if I score a goal, but the wind is against us and every time we kick the ball upfield it ends up in the back of our net as if God himself wanted us to lose.

Will this rain ever stop? I thought as Neumonia set in.

But the rain did stop (huzzah!) to be replaced by hail (damn.) and what began as a monsoon turned into a blizzard. I couldn't see a thing as icy winds cut through me like a scythe. It was like God himself was throwing daggers made of ice at my eyes (which I need to see).

It felt like The Day After Tommorrow, except everyone was in shorts. Who likes short shorts? I certainly fucking don't.

But despite the overwhelming odds, a wild kick miraculously lofts the ball over the defense and right into my path. I blink at the ball.

"Run! Jingo! Run!" Someone screams.

And so I'm hurtling down the left wing, muttering obscenities and taking the ball past player after player as I transformed into an incredibly cold and unnattractive version of Cristiano Ronaldo. The cold bit at my hands and face, the hail induced semi-blindness, but I was completely focussed on the goal at the end of the pitch.

And the goal was empty! The goalkeeper had come out! My pace had left the defense for dead and I surged forward towards the empty goalmouth. I hit the ball sweetly and the ball soared majestically through the air. There could only be one outcome!

Now that I think about it, I really should have scored.

I collapsed to the ground a broken man. A humiliated broken man. A humiliate broken man who couldn't get back up because of cramp.

***
Two stories of pain and humiliation, both at the hands of the elements. Both events happened in the last week and I thought it relevant to share with you, considering the amount of weird weather England has been experiencing of late.

Only yesterday, walking home from school, I believed I could fly... It really was that windy! I felt like Keanu Reeves in The Matrix.

I'm sure some humiliating Mary-Poppins/Wizard-of-Oz-esque tale will emerge with these windy conditions. Hopefully it'll be Torquer for a change and not me.

Litter Picking

Instead of sleeping till half twelve, I had to pull myself up in the early hours of the morning (10:30) and trudge to Princes Park, the most run-down park in all of Liverpool (and where all the junkies go at night) to pick litter.

Have a committed some heinous anti-social crime that has landed me community service? No! Far from it.

I was with some friends (we were a group of three), helping out a local charitable organisation which looked after the shoddy park.

Now before you start thinkig I'm some kind of Good Samaritan that goes and does random deeds beneficial to the local community this is not the case. I did this for two selfish reasons:

• It's my Citizenship Coursework Project
  
• Something to add to the CV

Since the three of us were working on the same project we needed to find something we could do as a team and picking litter was the easiest we could come up with. Not only did I complete the coursework for the easiest GCSE available, I also got extra CV brownie points to boot (and Uni's love this kinda thing).

The litter picking itself was unspectacular. We got a health and safety talk and were given our equipment (one litter picker and big black plastic bag each) and negotiated turf with the other litter picking teams present.

As we navigated our terrain, we came across two needles and a variety of condom wrappers (but alas no condoms). The place was pouring with rain and I was glad I was wearing an old pair of trainers; unfortunately, I regret choosing my best pair of jeans which irritated me somewhat, considering we had to walk through swamps of mud to get to the patches of the most sought-after litter.

Despite the rain, and despite the mud, and despite having to deal with disease-ridden needles, it was vaguely enjoyable.

I look forward to the next litter-picking session (for the CV of course).

Christmas Assembly

The weather may be showing no signs of snow and the neighbouring houses may be dark and depressing; however, an indication that Christmas has begun for me is when the school finally breaks up for half-term (a week-long holiday).

The school always try to end the term on a high-note, especially so near Christmas which is why it is compulsory for all of us (the student body) to attend the dreaded "Christmas Assemby". An hour of Christmassy entertainment and jovial music that the teachers have cooked up in the spirit of the season.

Take assemblies. Normally taking place in the morning, when most students aren't yet functioning correctly due to lack of sleep. The teachers begin by giving long and pointless anecdotes and speeches about the topic of the week (forgiveness, love thy neighbour, exams are important. The usual motivating crap) which no one pays attention to. Occasionally, we are even forced to sing Christian hymns. On rare occasions a charity speaker comes and gives us a talk, which compounds the boredom and we all give polite applause at the end.

Fifteen minutes it usually takes and these precious fifteen minutes of my life are wasted every day with this mind-numbing routine.

So imagine the horror of it all when you take all this and add Christmas to it. Imagine a stunted Christmas tree with tacky decorations on stage; imagine amateur musicians playing tunes out of key; imagine one thousand two hundred students cramped in a confined space, all bored out of their minds.

Pretty bad huh? Well it gets worse.

What happens when one thousand two hundred teenagers are bored? Do they sit there with blank expressions on their faces? Hell no. Do they sit there and make a valiant attempt to enjoy themselves? Kind of. Do they create alternative entertainment? Oh yes.

What sort of "alternative" entertainment was this? People sang songs deliberately out of tune for a laugh (the crazy stuff we do...), others tried to inflict pain to the people surrounding them. I had my schoolbag passed around several rows in some kind of warped pass-the-parcel game my peers had concocted. A friend of mine was wrapped in cellotape (how that was managed in an assemby is anybody's guess) and another was hoisted by many of us and locked in a cupboard (done after the assembly with the boredom of it all still lingering).

So there I was, sitting in hot and cramped conditions sans schoolbag, listening to the teachers singing "Winter Wonder", trying to dodge the various items hurled around around the hall (whilst keeping an eye out that it wasn't my bag being hurled around).

After the assembly, I was reunited with my bag. I found it hidden behind some doors.

This post may be portraying me as some kind of bully victim, but this kind of behaviour is commonplace amongst friends and enemies alike (Many get it far worse than this). Oh well, that's the educational system for ya, don't think of me any differently because of it.

I'm so glad school is over. To sum up the academic term:

I'm cautiously optimistic about my GCSEs (end of year exams. Important stuff). Not looking forward to next term (but who does?). Need to start thinking about work experience (for future career in medicine) and what As Levels (even more important exams) to take next year.

I may write a post about my uneventful/unorthodox Christmas later on. Although frankly, I can't see why anyone would care.

Religious Hostile Takeover

I know I've been writing a fair few posts about my school (and more importantly, the people in it) but this shocking piece of news came totally out of the blue and the first time I've ever heard of such an example occuring.

I got a letter yesterday that my school is to be converted to Church of England, against the will of all the school governers, and the government is powerless to stop them. All because of a loophole in a 17th century text.

The church claims that the purpose for which the school was established (1708) incorporated the following statement:

Religious instruction shall be given in the school in accordance with the doctrines of the Church of England

Basically, when the school was formed every educational body in the country had to be CoE, but over the years the school turned grammar and no longer followed the religion of the state, instead choosing to select students on academical ability rather than belief.

The funny thing is, they "assume" that line was written, there is no proof anywhere that such a line exists. Unfortunately, the government requires proof that the line wasn't written in order to overrule the CoE takeover. Bearing in mind that the document had to have been drawn up in the 17th century, the school had no idea where the document is.

And once again, the government has failed us by doing nothing. The school will of couse put up a fight but unless they find the precious document the governers will be powerless to prevent a CoE takeover. You hear the government waffling on about the falling standards but they refuse to halt the dissolution of the only school in Liverpool that allows entrance through academic excellence (others ask for massive yearly fees).

You may be wondering why this is such a big deal; the takeover won't affect me. It won't affect anyone in the school for the time being. But will affect the city.

Entrance into the school will greatly change. Everyone part of the CoE will have preference over the academically gifted. So a stupid CoE Christian would be chosen ahead of a intelligent muslim. Since my school is the only Grammar school in the whole of Liverpool (it is the only school that has an entrance exam and no fees) only the academically gifted are allowed through. The CoE's intention is to revamp the entrance system (to benefit the church) or possibly even remove it. Then where would the academically gifted go? There would be nowhere to provide them with a competitive atmospere and grades will suffer because of it.

Plus Religious Studies would be compulsory. Morally I have nothing against this; it just that it's an incredibly boring subject and most people despise it. (I don't really mind it since it's an easy GCSE)

Who knew the Church was capable of such acts of such cunning? Clearly I will need to rethink my views that the church is nothing more than an outdated system; this takeover was well-thought out and meticulously planned. Makes you wonder what really goes on at CoE HQ.


Harmless old monk or ruthless religious businessman?

England Lacks Skills...

It was in the news recently that the UK workforce was lacking in skills, and skill levels need to be raised to compete with rapidly developing countries such as China or India.

This does not surprise me remotely. Even in my school, arguably the best in Liverpool, there is a degenerate culture which prevents people from learning anything of any kind. People prefer to laze around, do nothing and pressurise others to do the same rather than taking full advantage of the abundant opportunities that surround them.

This doesn't just apply to lessons and homework, it applies to anything vaguely intellectual.

Torquer, a contributor to this blog (you won't have seen him around, he rarely posts) is a bit of a whizz with computers. He seems to nack for getting computers to work when others have failed. In fact, he's developed quite a reputation for it.

But people don't see it as a talent, people see it as an unfortunate affliction. They use it against him as if it's something to be ashamed of.

And I like to read. Except whenever I mention it people say things like: "Why read? It's so boring. Only gimps read." This kind of negative atmosphere would make anyone uncomfortable to discuss anything of intellect. Peer pressure alone is contributing to the lack of skills England is suffering of late.

Also, the naive share the belief that they can achieve massive success through minimum effort. Prince Charles made the point some time ago when he said children were being brought up with expectations that were far too high. Despite the backlash of the comment, I totally agree.

For example, I know someone who is convinced they will win a Nobel Prize for Physics. Another is determined she will become an astronaut. I would take them more seriously if they actually weren't stupid and work towards their goals. They expect it all to be handed to them on a platter.

Simply setting up more vocational courses and more opportunities just won't work. Although it'd be a lot more work changing the mentalities of the students. Trust Labour to take the easy route for Education.

Intelligent Design: Should It Be Taught?

Note: I am so pissed off right now, not because of Intelligent design but because of Blogger. I wrote one of the longest posts I have ever written (with thorough research and everything) and what does Blogger do? It completely fucks up the whole post and deletes half of it. All that time... lost. Now I have to write this post again... What motivation do I have now? How could I possibly match the quality of the deleted post? Shitty Blogger...

But anyway, to the post:

Despite being a man of science, I am very tolerant of religion. I respect what religion can do to peoples' lives and the purpose it brings. However, there are many aspects of religion too far-fetched to ignore and one of these is Intelligent Design.

There is a teacher in my school who is one of those crazy religious nutcases. Except he is armed with science and has been brainwashing all the students with tripe about Intelligent Design with scientific justifications for years.

It began with Christian Union, he would preach every week to an average audience of three about religion and science and how they are linked. He once declared that anyone was allowed to argue against his beliefs on Intelligent Design. My and my friends decided one day to ask him "How can you believe in Intelligent Design with the evidence around you?"

We were bored at the time and he had practically invited us to have an argument with him (when would we get another opportunity to do that with a teacher?). Before we knew it we were stuck in Christian Union listening to an hour lecture on how religion explains science or some other shit along those lines.

At first I was enticed by the idea of intelligent design, even though I still believed in evolution no matter what it all seemed to make sense. But later, when some thought was applied, it was a load of bullshit.

An example of such bullshit was: "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep."

Apparently this refers to the Big Bang theory. It seems to make sense, after all, the Big Bang theory explains that the Universe was created and that time, space, everything was created in that one moment and began existing. Is that not what the first line of Genesis says? That God created everything (the Heavens and the Earth) at once?

Of course anything can interpreted as anything. The Bible was created by the Vatican (who picked and chose Gospels which benefited the them) and the Big Bang theory is just a theory and subject to change. If the Big Bang theory was disproved what then? New interpretations would be found no doubt.

But anyway that was just one example. Most of you are no doubt thinking, you stick to your beliefs I stick to mine. This post wasn't written to criticise Religious people (most of whom accept Evolution). It was the fact that my teacher went to the BBC and lobbying for Intelligent Design that sparked this post.

Now to the point of this post, should Intelligent Design be taught in schools? Is there any educational value?

The answer is no.

Firstly, Intelligent design is all based on faith while Evolution is based on something more substantial (e.g. DNA, Natural selection etc.). Most people (even the religious) accept Evolution and there is overwhelming evidence for it.

As The Now Show put it, any students fortunate enough to get Intelligent Design for A-level would get remarkable results:

Q. What happened during the Big Bang?
A. Something we do not understand caused by a thing we don't know.

Q. How did organic molecules develop the ability to self-replicate?
A. By some unknown force doing a thing we cannot understand.

Q. Explain the mechanisms by which species develop through random
mutation?
A. By the interference by some intelligent thing that is more complex than anything we know and yet, can never know.

As you see, if Intelligent design were put in place we wouldn't learn anything. Teaching Intelligent Design is such a waste of time and would just contribute to science in this country going backwards.

Secondly, there are a lot of clever, but impressionable, young people in my school. The influence my chemistry teacher has over them is massive. He has converted a fair few to Intelligent Design and they are not even religious. How can you believe in it if you don't believe in a creator? Most people don't understand and those that "teach" it are highly persuasive.

So to conclude, Intelligent design contributes nothing to education and it doesn't even count as a science, it's not in the curriculum for a reason. If we bow down to these evangelical lobbyists we'd become more and more like America. Does anyone want that?

Social Degeneration: Chavs

Definition of Chav: Burberry-wearing, bling-loving, Lacoste-tracksuited degenerate tossers. (If you're American, think a wigga obsessed with Burberry and fake tan)

It was only a few years ago when Chavs did not roam the earth and we were free to walk down dark back-alleys, hold our heads up high and not be intimidated by gangs of youths with nothing better to do than chain-smoke, vandalise and procreate in the streets before binge-drinking and passing out on the curb. Then when morning breaks, society will pick their disgusting forms out of the gutter and fix them up again for another night filled with violence and vices.

So it is definitely fair to say these low-lifes are the scum of the earth, and deserve to be forced to work camps to repay society for the damage caused by their random acts of violence and vandalism. However, what seems like an incredibly simple solution (lock them up and make pay back their debt to us) has been horribly dealt with by the government. So much so that the Chav population is actually rising.

But have no fear. Our saviour, David Cameron has reacted to protest at rising young offenders:

Young offenders should be shown "a lot more love" in an effort to encourage good behaviour, Conservative leader David Cameron has said.

He called for a more understanding approach as to why youths committed crimes in the first place. They must have counselling, education and training, he told the Youth Justice Board's annual convention in Cardiff.

The Tory leader suggested that children should receive "tough love" and, in turn, have "high standards" asked of them.

This was not the same as "sentimental, childish love which sees no wrong in anyone", he added.

Handing out anti-social behaviour orders (Asbos) to young people or putting them in custody was "reacting" to crime, not "reducing" it, Mr Cameron said, and many institutions had become "social dustbins".

Oh I see... We should go around loving and embracing the Chavs! It seems ridiculous to pour taxpayers money into more counselling and education for a bunch of degenerates who clearly do not appreciate our help, and would rather be drinking cheap cider and vomitting on the pavement. It'd be a bigger money-waster than the NHS Blackhole.

But then again, I'm just a kid, what would I know about issues like politics and stuff? Dave Cameron clearly understands these things better than I do because he's such a "hip" and "cool" Tory.

If you ask me, the problem would be easily solved if there was a revamp in the youth justice system. If Chavs really think a ASBO was like a knighthood then the only solution is to scrap a system that doesn't work and replace it with a system that does. What I suggest is that anyone found passed out wearing Burberry should be rounded up and sent to a Brat Camp/juvenile delinquency center to work until they show some sense and willing to contribute to society (instead of dropping out of school and living off the dole). And if that doesn't work, use them as an alternative fuel to burn.

But at the moment, the situation will only worsen before it gets any better. Hopefully there will be a day when people can walk down the street without fear of being mugged by a twerp in a hoodie at knife point or happy-slapped on a double-decker bus. Until then, I shall think twice about walking walking alone in the dark.

Back to School

Alas half term is over and we are condemned to another month or so of tedious, tedious learning. At the moment I feel totally demotivated; Y11 seems such a repetitive and useless year, the only thing of note being GCSEs.

Having learnt roughly the same subjects for around 4 and a half years now I'm sick to death of subjects I know would not benefit me in the future whatsoever. Having got over the fear of GCSE results last year (2 A*s in Maths and French oh yeah) there is just nothing new or interesting to look forward to or even anticipate this year I hadn't done the last. And on top of that, the school I go to is absolutely shambolic and seems to have no funding whatsoever.

So here are just a few other reasons why I did not look forward to the new school term:

Tricentinary Appeal
Schools half-arsed attempt at raising money for a state-of-the-art outdoor field to celebrate Bluecoat's 300 years of educating scousers has backfired horribly. The school was planning on raising 2 million until it realised that was impossible. So they lower it to just 1 million. It's been half a year and the school has raised just over 400k. I expect to be constantly harangued for my preciously earned money over the next year or so.

Physics and Chemistry
Both subjects I will definitely be taking for A-Levels. Both utterly boring with pathetic teachers who have taught me very little. Both subjects I will definitely need to do Medicine. I'm growing more and more frustrated over the inadequate teaching I have received and these subjects are difficult enough as it is. Therefore I'll have to make up for lost ground and do extra work (scandalous I know) if I'm to receive even decent grades (and I want so much more).

French
Having revised night and day for my hard-earned A*, the school promised to make my french lessons a kind of "free" where I can do other things such as talk, revise etc. with others like me (and Torque) who were capable of completing the course early.

I soon discovered at the start of this academic year that these were lies. Filthy lies.

I now have to do work for a subject I never liked and I earn no qualifications for doing it. To make matters worse I must even be subjected to talking to the French Assistant Momo. It's all so tedious and unnecessary.

The Library
Full of Catch 22's and bureaucracy. And I am never allowed to print coursework. Oh and all the books are shit (and aimed for an audience of 10 year olds - Peter Pan, I mean wtf?).

Coursework
It seems never ending and consumes learning time.

So expect my life to be pretty miserable over the next term. Oh and I have mocks to look forward to. There is a silver lining after all.

The Secret to Success at GCSE English

What an English lesson! I didn't even care that I had to watch the shitty 1996 version of Romeo and Juliet with that git Leonardo Di Capprio in it. I didn't even care when I mis-pronounced melancholy so that it sounded like an italian pasta.

The fact is, I got an A*. For my first draft. Only me and Robin managed such a feat. Life is now perfect... for the day anyway.

The Essay was on Frankenstein and is now adorned with pleasing comments down the margins like: "fantastic!" and "very good point". I might keep the crumpled essay as a trophy of accomplishment so that in later life, I can tell everyone how kickass at english I was.

But the thing that irritates me the most is that I completely bullshitted through it. The result completely undermines my opinion of english analysis because I was just taking the piss at times. I don't think there's a chance in hell that Mary Shelley meant half the stuff I wrote about.

As if Victor suffered Post-Natal Depression. As if Teen Pregnancy relates to Frankenstein.

But to be honest, I couldn't care less because I now have an A*. And I've discovered the secret to success at English:

No matter how irrelevant the point, how absurd the opinion, how ridiculous the links. Write it and back it up. This is what we call "original interpretations". Teachers dig that shit and give A*s for that kind of radical thinking.