TITANIC

The Titanic is sinking.  Again.  A little late, but sinking just the same.

It's that time of year again when the students read an excerpt from Ballard's propaganda-laced Exploring the Titanic.  Ballard tries to convince his readers of such ridiculous truths as Captain Smith having an "excellent record" (ran a few ships aground and almost collided with the New Yorker on the way out of the docks with Titanic) and that the look-outs in the crow's nest couldn't see the iceberg in the dark (crow's nest binoculars had been "misplaced" prior to the ship's leaving port, so the looking-out was done with tired and cold bare eyeballs).  He also fails to point out that had the ship not turned and just hit the damn berg head-on, the Titanic probably would not have sunk.

I'm just saying.

(Titanic 2013 -- Ready for boarding, kids!)

But this minutiae pales in comparison to what I am about to do to my students.  On Monday (or Tuesday, depending on how Friday's lesson goes), they will be handed boarding passes (copies of originals) as they enter my classroom.  They will also be given back the miniature versions of themselves they drew and colored and cut out.  And then, they will wait "on deck," playing an elaborate version of elimination, drawing papers out of a box as if they are Shirley Jackson's Tessie Hutchinson.

A mere 31% of them will make it out "alive."  They will be able to staple themselves into the lifeboats.  The rest will staples themselves into various states of dire distress along the ship and in the ocean, all except the Lucky Four.  The Lucky Four, or one person from each class, will win coveted spots on the iceberg, the spots reserved for the next in line for a place in a lifeboat if only one of their fellow "passengers" had selflessly and valiantly given up a seat.

Ah, the hypothetical thinning of the herd.

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood, and yes, it does do my evil black heart good.