Up until now, I haven’t really written about anything that will have a drastic, immediate effect on the lives of M-A students.  Based on how few emails I get saying I should be nominated for a Pulitzer, not many people are visiting the new M-A Bear News Site.  But the new schedule change– now that’s something that’s going to mess crap up.  But I’m not writing this article to complain about the details.  Like how this change was completely forced on the school, ignoring teacher and student objections.  Or how the school tried to appease the uniformly anti-change student populous with a survey on start times.  Or how they ignored the token survey anyway.  Or how the schedule change and refusal to change the time of SSR will force student athletes to miss more class.  Or how the effects of such a change are debatable, as I predict that for many students it will simply shift everything forward an hour, resulting in about the same amount of sleep total.  Or how the parents complaining about their kids staying up texting could just do some, you know, parenting and take away the damn phones or computers if it bugs them so much.  Or how this seems to ignore other causes of student insomnia, like homework.  Or how changing homework would not only be far easier and more popular, but that if it didn’t work it could be immediately changed back to previous levels, unlike the schedule, which would take at least several weeks to revert to the original.

No, I’m here to provide us with something nobody else has devised yet– a way out.  You see, the district, in order to justify such a far-reaching and drastic change, has to have some base expectations.  They’re probably expecting slightly better grades, a more cheerful student body, healthier students, and a generally better atmosphere overall.  The way to get the old schedule back is simple: all we have to do is fail to meet single possible standard they could set for us.

Have you been whining about how much the new schedule is going to blow and how there’s nothing you can do about it? Well, now there is.  From now on, don’t just ignore your homework like usual.  Burn it-it’s the only way to be sure.  Tests provide a good opportunity to hone your skills as an artist, especially on scantrons; you can use the bubbles to spell fun words, like “CAB”, or make bubble smiley faces.  Writing essays on books you’ve read is boring, but writing essays on whether Mr. Wellington could take Mr. Amoroso in a knife fight is a good deal more interesting.  Any grade higher than 10% just means you’re trying too hard, you dumb nerd.  On the subject of dumb nerds, why have we been so nice to teachers this whole time?  The nerve of them– asking us questions that they already know the answers to.  If they try crap like that again, from now on you should respond with your own question, like “If you’re so smart and such a good teacher, how come I don’t know the answer?” and proceed to receive high-fives.

Next time somebody bumps into you in the hall, don’t just do nothing.  Punch whoever’s nearest to you in the face as hard as you can.  This school looks and smells too nice, too.  Trash cans and bathrooms should be considered optional from here on out.  If you happen to be sick, don’t stay at home to recuperate.  Come to school and share your microbes– cough on your hands, and if anyone asks about the dampness during a high-five or handshake, say you just washed them.  And don’t feel like you have to hold in vomit until you reach a bathroom.  Shades of orange, green and brown could work wonders for our school’s aesthetic.

People who engage in public displays of affection in the halls– step it up a notch.  First base? That’s really the limit of how much you care for each other? Oh, and don’t listen to those dumb “birth control” lessons we’ve been forced to sit through.  Commercials are far more accurate: all you need is a stick of Dentyne Ice Gum and you’re good to go.

When the district sends someone to see the results of their “brilliant” schedule change, this school should be a putrid, blood-soaked hellhole populated by frightened teachers and phlegm-producing, hostile teen parents.  That’ll teach them for trying to make us sleep.