The Art of the Guinea Pig

I am taking a break from marking exam papers. The reasons I am taking a break are 1) I have been marking for two hours and am reaching the end of my marking tether 2) I've already done a heap load of marking this half-term and it's getting on my nerves because EVERYONE knows that the only reason a person becomes a teacher is 'cos of all the holidays 3) Heather's birthday cake (or what remains) is calling me from the fridge and 4) I just read something that made me laugh out loud and inspired a blog.

When you mark exam papers you read some interesting things. And also some dire and boring things, but I feel these only serve to highlight the little gems that make an occasional appearance. The batch of papers I marked at the beginning of the week disturbed me greatly as the students who wrote them seemed very focused on telling me how important their mobile phones were to them and that they felt lost without them, like their right hand had been surgically removed, and that they should be allowed to use their phones in school ALL THE TIME or else they would JUST DIE FROM SOCIAL ISOLATION and don't adults care, or sumfing or nuffing or sumfing. A sign of the times, I suppose, but a sad sign nonetheless.

But in today's batch, I was reading and giving marks for how students described their homes. And one boy, in describing his bedroom, talked at great length about his 'chester draws.' 'Opposite the TV is my bed,' he wrote, 'and next to it is another chester draws with my stereo and computer on it.'

Now, when my sister was a little girl, she counted amongst her pets a succession of guinea pigs. And one of these guinea pigs was a long-haired black 'n' ginger 'n' white confection by the name of Chester.

And my immediate thought on reading this boy's description of his home was 'Why would my sister's guinea pig be using this boy's bedroom as an artist studio, and what is this boy doing balancing his stereo and computer on it?'

Which was when I knew I needed to have a break and possibly some birthday cake to replenish my obviously plummeting blood/sugar levels, thereby causing abstract hallucinatory thoughts vis a vis guinea pigs being squashed for their art.

Anyway, just thought I'd share that random, abstract and absurd thought with you.

Now if you want to see something truly abstract, can I suggest you go and see the musical, 'Wicked'? Heather and I went to see it yesterday, for her birthday. I've seen it before, but Heather hasn't and was very keen to do so, and given that the only person available for her to spend her birthday with was her boring old mum, I agreed to venture forth into my nemesis (aka London), and see the musical again.

'Wicked' is basically the story of how the Wicked Witch of the West from the Wizard of Oz came to be wicked. Hence, presumably, the title. A prequel to the Wizard of Oz, if you like. The costumes and special effects are spectacular. The songs, in my opinion, are so-so; the kind of songs you could join in and sing along to even if you've never heard them before, provided you've got the chutzpah and the volume to give 'em a go. And the plot? I think even Heather agreed that the plot was vague, tenuous and contrived. And this musical was adapted from a novel. (Ooooooh, don't get me started on bad novels being published and earning loadsamoney. Just don't!)

During the plot there were many random points of action that occurred that were then explained away by the characters after they'd happened, just in case the audience weren't keeping up with the story. Like the writers suddenly thought, 'Ooops, that didn't make sense did it? Still, we can't be bothered to re-write it, so let's do a bit of random explanation via the medium of the flying monkey/ the weird 6 foot tall Munchkin/ the Wizard being portrayed as a bigamist/ lothario/control-freak b**tard.'

A guinea pig called Chester with a computer balanced on his head could have written a more convincing script.

And Sam Kelly (from 'Allo Allo') is far too nice to be in role as the aforesaid b**tard Wizard.

Klopf!!