30 November 2006 a. d. (Year of the Lion 13, Year of the Cat System), IN Bloggerland, TS, My World, Mexico, The World, The Solar System, The Milky Way, The Universe, World XII B, The Related Worlds, The Whole General Mish Mash.
ASUNTO: The relative un-Mexican-ness and uncanny knowledge of the Mafia which the not-as-estimada-as-some-people-would-rather Mrs. K possesses and utilizes to gross-out and annoy yours truly, her friend Z, and the whole class of 6 "B".
To my respected readers,
Mrs. K seems to have uncanny knowledge of the modus operandi of the Mafia. This, among other things, I found out during a discussion of a recent kidnapping that my teacher planned (the discussion, I mean, not the kidnapping XD) to try to mortify R, but when that didn't work very well she settled for grossing us out and later getting in a argument on morals with me, a rather principled person. Here are the basics, numbered for your convenience, Strike and SebThePleb and Mr. Pat and Dad and whoever else is reading...
- A girl was kidnapped.
- This triggered a discussion about drug sellers, the Mafia (the "Family" in English, La "Corporacion" (the "Corporation") in Spanish), and threatening phone calls, during which I learned:
- A guy wrote a song that mentioned the Mafia and stuff in it. (this is all according to Mrs. K, so if you're in the Mafia and you're reading this, and you're mad, threaten her, not me) The day before he was supposed to sing it in concert, he got a phone call: "don't sing that". He sang it. He was shot driving away. Though only about six or seven bullets got in him, apparently ten times that, sixty or seventy, were embedded in the car.
- My teacher gave another example about blackmail: a guy is selling drugs and is in with the Mafia, he says he wants out, "my family and this and that and my kids and-". They kidnap his daughter. He won't give in. They start sending him fingers in the mail. (think Sick Puppy (Carl Hiassen)) She says that is why he should've given in.
- I say, "Professor?" "Yeah?" "I know why someone would do something like that, even with the threat of... personal harm and death and stuff. If it was the right thing." "Speak up girl I can't here you." I repeated myself. "No you see the right thing is to preserve yourself. The good thing to do is to save your own skin." She repeated this several times.
- Z (my best friend at school who happens to be a girl and, luckily, sits right next to me, in such a position that we two are the lucky farthest from Mrs. K's desk; she only caught us at it once and that time we were only saying "Hi" "Hi" "How are you doing?" "Good, you?" "I'm tired I woke up early" "That sucks." "Yeah.", and we both said blandly and innocently that we had something to say to each other on the subject of her lecture, which, I artfully added, was very good; we didn't want to disturb the class by whispering; we're sorry, professor ^cue puppy eyes^, we were just trying to be polite!) passed me a note (we do this a lot): (translated from the Spanish by yours truly)
Me: I don't understand why the Teacher wanted to mortify R... And why is she always mortifying poor F?
Z: (after my speech) You are right; she only wants to be right.
Me: She's talking like a coward who only cares about her own skin. If you could save people by sacrificing yourself, would you? I would, if it was the right thing to do...
And she seems to know way too much about the Mafia.
Z: Me too. I don't know why she knows so much about the Mafia what do you think?
And as I passed her desk, I whispered, "I don't know, but it sure does seem suspicious."
But really, when I think about it, in a culture that glorifies patriotism and honor and doing the right thing, she was being really un-Mexican! And she's supposed to set a good example for the kids! It seems like its us setting an example for her!
In conclusion, you can probably see why I called this post what it is called. One more note: the way I lettered it is mimicking the titles of the Kinsey Milhone novels by Sue Grafton.
Until next time,
Cosima the Principled.
PS~ One time about Escolta, I was telling Mom about how the Escolta (honor/flag guard) teacher was glorifying people who died for the flag. "So you'd drop the flag and run?" she asked. After considering a moment, I said, "No, I'd grab the flag and run. You know, it would be good for bopping anyone who looked at me funny on the head with." Then the red would be even redder. And yes, I could probably hurt someone seriously with that thing. It's like twenty pounds! I've carried it. While marching. In one hand.
PS2~ I wrote this as a mockery of a formal letter, Mexican style, since that is what we studied today.
PS3~ Teacher-bashing is very therapeutic, my friends! So is Mary-Sue bashing!