Smack some sense into those damn kids!
Over the past few weeks, the Post has come to realize (once again) something Hollywood has known since the mid-50s and the rest of us have known most of our lives: Schools are awful, scary places, full of half-pint thugs and teachers too constrained by legalities and their own fears to keep the little monsters in line.
"School violence" has become the flavor of the month for the Post, with the rest of the city's media outlets following their lead. You can't open a paper without finding some account of a teacher being assaulted, kids bringing guns to class or decent students too terrified to walk the halls. Even those kids at Harvey Milk have turned out to be a bunch of hellions, vicious enough to make the thugs in Class of 1984 look like the glee club.
Ironically enough, on the same day it was reported that some little troublemaker released pepper spray in the halls of his junior high, it was also reported that a national survey had declared New York's public schools the country's best in comparison to other major cities.
So what does that say? It might mean that the schools in Chicago and Los Angeles are on fire all the time, or that local papers are blowing a decades-old problem just a little out of proportion. Or it might mean that this country is really screwed.
Every generation, of course, firmly believes that the generations that follow them are stupider, meaner, sluttier, lazier and have worse taste in music. And every generation believes that schools are in much worse shape on every level than they ever had been before (mostly because those schools are filled with those terrifying "young people.") It's just the way things work. And for the most part, we tend to believe that older generations (like ours) are correct in believing these things. Take a look at what was considered over-the-top JD behavior in 1955's Blackboard Jungle. Seems pretty silly now, doesn't it?
There was no need for metal detectors when we were in school. We had thugs and bullies who relied more on simple beatings than gunplay. Ten-year-olds weren't raping seven-year-olds in stairwells, and teachers could discipline students without filling out forms first or worrying about being sued by the student's parents. There's nothing new or revelatory in pointing this out, or in pointing out that the level of violence is a bit more extreme everywhere, not just the schools. We're not pointing any fingers; we're not blaming television or hiphop or video games. It just seems to be the way that we're evolving as a species.
Our suggestion to schools Chancellor Klein: If you want to do something about the "shocking" levels of school violence we keep hearing so much about, maybe you can glean a few ideas by watching Battle Royale, a Japanese film from 2000 about a unique experiment in taking the schools back from the thugs. Either that or you might look into replacing our current lot of cowardly teachers with those killer robot teachers they had in Class of 1999. That'd show those little bastards who's boss.
And One Last Safety Tip
Two weeks ago, the residents of an apartment complex in Washington Heights got together for a little holiday party. Around 9:30, according to witnesses, 21-month-old Nini Bryan was having a fine time dancing around the living room. Then she lost her balance and fell near Novella Williams, a neighbor.
Williams, described by the Daily News as, um, "heavyset," bent down to pick up Nini, lost her own balance, and fell on the child. Nini was rushed to the hospital in critical condition, suffering from brain trauma and internal bleeding.
Parents, please, this holiday season, let this be a lesson. Toy guns, slingshots, those liquid yo-yos and model planes that shoot plastic missiles are one thing?but if you really want to protect your children over the holidays, for God's sake, keep them away from the drunken fat ladies next door.
Up with Chuck!
Few New York Press stories from 2003 have generated a response as heated and sustained as Mark Ames' Aug. 27 obliteration of Chuck Klosterman, "The Flip-Flop King." Almost four months later, we're still getting letters about it. Most of the mail is defensive of Klosterman, and attacks Ames for being so vicious in his skewering.
Piqued by this response (as well as by Klosterman's rising star), a New York Press reader and professor at the Fashion Institute of Technology named Dr. William L. Gibson decided to try an experiment, assigning Klosterman's recent Esquire article "On Friendstership" to his freshman composition class. Below is a selection of their comments. Few of these 18- and 19-year-olds had heard of Klosterman before the assignment.
We're more convinced than ever that Klosterman is an intolerable sham, and proudly offer the following chum to those on both sides of the Klosterman divide.
"This article sucks." ?Janelle Dandeneau
"This article is extremely pointless and more important it's corny as hell? He's trying too hard to be 'cool,' but it's not hard to pick out the fact he's a complete idiot with no journalism talent. I'm a fashion design major and could write better than this." ?Tiffany Louery
"?The article could have been done in about ONE paragraph. It was long, repetitive, and you never made a point." ?Maggie Dewine
"I feel that his writing is very childish. He tries to make himself seem more intelligent by throwing in a couple of big words, which happens to do the exact opposite? He comes off very immature and so does his writing. The article may be more interesting if he added actual information instead of just rambling on about his obsession and need for the website." ?Rebecca Rudin
"Chuck's writing is garbage; he's just an insecure lonely man with the writing mentality of a thirteen-year-old boy." ?Maria Giampino
"Chuck's writing is confusing and does not flow well. It is boring. His analogies make no sense and are irrelavent [sic]. It seems as if he's pulling it out of his ass. He's just trying to use up space." ?Marta Mizgala
"I wish I would have taken Chuck's suggestion in the Friendster article and turned to page 77 to read about Adam West." ?Jackie Green
"What the hell is the point? I regret reading this article; it was a waste of 4 minutes I'll never get back. Here's some advice for Chuck. Please dedicate the first couple of paragraphs of every article you write to warning people about your incredible lack of writing skills." ?Ashley McAlevy
"I can't believe I am critiquing a Chuck Klosterman article. In fact, I can't believe how utterly amateur and dry this article is? I feel stupider and less interested in Friendster [than before]." ?Ryan Kennedy
"Does this guy even know what he's writing about?" ?Name Withheld
This year, Page Two participated in the Post Office's Operation Santa gift drive for needy children, and so our staffers found themselves on a shopping spree in Kmart last week. Sensible shoes for little Giovanny, a warm coat for Andru, a teddy bear for Dazia, a bunch of board games for the de la Cruz family. Then, quick as a lick, the shopping cart was gone from its resting spot near the Blue's Clues slipper display. With the merchandise went one "Dear Santa" letter?containing the only record of the intended's address.
Kmart employee Desare joined in the quest for the missing cart, and for the next hour, our heroic helper searched high and low throughout the store, grilling her coworkers as to the location of the wayward cart. Turns out, a bloodthirsty customer had snatched it, dumped the merch and went about his or her business.
Were it not for Desare's incredibly good spirits, young Giovanny and his brother Jonathan would not have received the winter boots and Hot Wheels cars we so painstakingly chose. Page Two applauds her efforts, and urges her supervisors to issue an appropriate reward.
Sometimes booze brings out the lamb in people, sometimes the lion. An example of each was on hand at about 4:30 a.m. on Dec. 14.
Omar Canady, 30, walked into a Long Island bar and immediately began making his assholery apparent. Before long, he'd picked a fight with a man, which quickly escalated. Both combatants were given the boot and were followed outside by 34-year-old Kenneth Reilly, who thought he'd try to calm the boys down.
It didn't work. When Reilly stepped between them, Canady produced a hammer and started swinging. He not only fractured Reilly's skull, but punctured his left eye as well before fleeing. He was arrested at his home.
Reilly's mother later told reporters, "[Canady] should go to jail for life or somebody should beat the hell out of him with a hammer."
God bless you, ma'am.
Another kind of fuel was at work in Fitzgerald Donaldson, a 22-year-old whose friends will call him "Scarface" from this point onward. Last Tuesday, he was shot 11 times on a Bronx street?and survived. He was reported in stable condition at St. Barnabas Hospital.
How could a man live through something like that? The answer might lie in the fact that police discovered that Donaldson was carrying eight packets of coke at the time of the shooting. No telling how many he'd been carrying earlier that afternoon. Once he gets sufficiently healed up, he'll be facing possession charges. (Another Bronx resident survived being shot in the gut three times following an argument on the evening of Dec. 15. What the argument was all about has yet to be revealed.)
Makes us wonder. What's with all these Bronx residents walking away from multiple gunshot wounds? Is some mad scientist breeding superheroes up there?
Some people don't need drugs or alcohol to act wacky. Sometimes a severe blow to the head is all it takes?as in the case of an unnamed 29-year-old who was in a car accident on Staten Island on Sun., Dec. 14. He was taken to St. Vincent's Hospital, where he spent the next several days undergoing a variety of tests.
On the morning of Dec. 17, an orderly was wheeling him up to the sixth floor for a brain scan when the patient leapt from the wheelchair, ran down a hall, through an emergency exit and up to the roof, where he jumped to his death.
We can't help but think that if he'd been treated by that mad scientist in the Bronx, the poor bastard probably would've gotten up and walked away afterwards.