‘Holy Immortal Numericals’
Not bad for a stoner, art-school dropout, with no college experience, and not a science class since sophomore year of high school. From which I only managed my miraculous matriculation on account of an English teacher, my senior year, that just happened to be rather bad at basic math.
Let me Explain in the speakeasy plain,…
After having called me up to his desk during class. Pointing to his grade book and running his finger along the line that started with; my last name. He stopped. A little box near the end of that line of mine, had a 52% written in it.
Then just before telling me to go sit down, he had me look him straight in the eye, then forced me stand there & watch him perform that most wholly of Hollies, įA Rįté d’Trånsfįgµraę,…
Our Lady of the Perpetual Integer
Wherein, the last gift of that dusty ol’
dreadlocked foot-fetishist was given.
Our Lord of Forgotten Deserts
Redeemer of All Souls That are Lost
(and most hair-extensions too)
Father of Men (& many Women, well, okay… a few)
Pontiff of the Hair Plug-Inn
Turned-On Nobjob
The King-a d’Minga
Narcolectric Shaver of Souls
the MAN with (I guess you could argue) the plan…
Thats right it’s boring old Youknowho,
(I mean honestly, whataya-starred-in-lately?)
errr… ,okay,…well… really!
Nothing?
not even fairly-recently?,
okay then…
…well-are-you-at-least-on-Insta?
Hows about TUrDBRgLR?
KLLmeAlready.com?
Do you faceflunk!
Maybe just one of the theons?
any of the…
OmniFU?
OmniFme?
You must be on one of them…
perhaps you still have…no
Not even half a page on wanna the
FamKillR Family of killer APPs-es?
No?
None of ’em
Just Plain-Regular-old,
Vanilla-flavored-JHC?
That’s it! Is it then?
That Birkenstockovitzian-Footsie-wearin’,
Known-to-the-Neighborhood-
as-a-No-Good-Snake-in-the-Grass-
or-some-Kinda-Stick-in-the-Mud.
Right?
The Godhead-become-fleshiness-with-bedhead.
A bit of a drama queen, no?
“Too-Stuck-Up-Not-to-get-Fucked-Up!”
Don’t you reason?
okay, well…then…
That most beloved of all-
crucified-failures & the
savior-to-end-all-sailiors,…
“Jesus H. Christ!”
Well not THEE “Mr. Christ” proper but,
he did tell me to come by,..
oh
Hi
yeah,
oh hello,…
They call me,
Hayszeusito,…I’m his…
…his step-father’s neighbor.
He asked me to meet him here,…
ahhhhhhh!
OH WOW!
Ohhh it’s nice in here,…
Listen do you mind if I wait
for him here, inside with you…
So, has this dumbass “chupachronos”
finished telling you his riveting tale yet?
Of how,…
“25 years ago I watched some French teacher
write a joyous “D+” next to that vile & dirty,
FOUL ABOMINATION. That nasty little number.
Since I didn’t do any work, I’m guessing
it to be the work-of-the-Devil.
Mostly ugly and blatantly coprophilic
(as sure to remain unfashionable,
as it is to please the crowd)
Dark digits, flushed out into the turd dimension,
that cursed number once seen and found to be
far too obscene & Not a sign of the unfailed man…52″
52%
He often pretends it was simply an inncorrect
but quite fortunate miscalculation made by
what was it this time? A Social Studies teacher
And he was just really, really, very bad at
basic math? ah.
Perhaps he said something that might be
scene as describing a Sacred Ritual?
or
of having
Transffurmative Potentialities,…
or
otherwise
detailed & described a
sorta initiatory secret-rite?
One that involves a miraculous process,
where one takes an established,
Infallible Numerical Value
Somehow transmogrifies it,
and is left with an irregularity-breeding,…
near-constant, errrr, …variable-constants?,
errr constant-variabilities, wait no,
instant-constants?, or is it consenentia?,
No, its transcontinental!,.…
(No I think not) I’m just hearing the prefix
“trans” A LOT (or more than before, at least).
I’m unsure of my confusion,
but I turn away from the mirror nonetheless
It wasn’t CertsISmenthas, was it?
No, it was not…
Regardless, it basically
transmogrifies it
somewhat,…so that
stone cold numbers
~transform~
into that
sweet-sweet
Nutbread-of-Life,
the…
The “A thru F” Grading-System (w/a curve!)
Underground Railroad of Smart-assed, Smart-mouthed, Clever-slackers,
and that gifted buncha Back-of-the-Class-Nappers.
That number that the young man saw that day,
in that little box, on a page, in a gradebook, on a desk.
That horribly important number!
Could’ve dictated his summer, or year
this number. So important that it be
One of These Numbers, but not Those.
There is actually a very wide range of
numbers that this number can be,
but what it CAN NOT be, oh please!
is these…
52%
NO! No, no no that double digit simply
will not do. It will not do at all…
Not when written in
letters anyway.
So gawd bless that Mr. Anderson,…
I’d say that although he was not
a strict rule-following teacher, he was
no push-over either.
“What does it matter what you say
about people. He was some kind of a man.”
He was one of them. He saw me. He did
everything to support me and get me through.
He told me I was a smart kid.
He told me I was a good writer.
He let me submit drawings
in place of my research papers.
Some Decent-Sorta-Educator after all.
∞
Only Friends are Real
Embrace Shulgin-ness
DON’T SCARE THE HORSES
DO BETTER!
≈Ω≈
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