Unsocialized Homeschoolers' Gazette (College Edition)

7:30 AM


Due to the surprising success of the last edition of the Unsocialized Homeschoolers' Gazette, we bring you another faithful report of why homeschoolers should stay chained to their basement desks.



Profundity redefined

IN A TOWN NEAR YOU -- Public high schools - public middle schools - public elementary schools - they are all shocking to the delicate nervous system of homeschoolers. But nothing can be compared to staggering weight of liberal arts colleges on the slow, impressionable minds of sheltered students. Recently it was reported that a sixteen-year-old girl made a visit to one such college - and not just the college itself but the arts center. 

Of course, this was a considerably bright girl, at the top of her class of one, and she had been to the arts centers of liberal arts colleges before. Because of her piano teachers' encouragement to enter state competitions (besides watching her brother perform and participating in the regional spelling bee - not to mention college football games which were only good when accompanied by Coke), she'd been to several institutions. They all seemed to have a great propensity towards concrete - concrete basements, concrete walls, concrete second floors, concrete everything. That's her general impression of liberal arts colleges. Concrete.

She drove up towards this particular college, however (whose architecture employed scratched tile and moldy roofs for a little variation from concrete), accompanied by her doting parents, and learned things right then and there. The first thing she noticed was the red jersey hanging in a dorm window. That was the nicest art form on the entire campus.

Jackson Pollock. Number 1A, 1948.

"The buildings were really pretty - these old historic types - almost colonial," the victim reported, "and outside the arts center was a bronze sculpture of people and children playing music and singing. I was like, 'Aw, that's neat,' and then I turned the corner."

On the (concrete) steps were four iron poles with wires and gears sticking out all over the place. She stared at them for some time and was not profound enough to understand the depth of their shallowness. At the door she was stopped by an intriguingly odd poster. It looked like a woman with a beard - or perhaps it was smoke billowing around her - and it was advertising an art exhibition of masterpieces like it. (Later, her mother broke the news to her that it was a painting of a woman drowning. Breathtaking work, that.)

In the lobby art was scattered all about. On the right side were a series of drawings of pink, green and purple humans who needed a quick run into Goodwill (if you know what I mean), posing in the hands of monsters. A cardboard robot stood guard behind the front table and a cardboard something-else graced the opposite side of the room. The girl and her mother decided that it was half a dinosaur - the tail and feet, at least. Someone knocked off a piece during the course of the day.

Pablo Picasso. Still life with Guitar.

Along the hallways were brightly colored expressions of chaos and confusion, not to mention more humans in need of Matthew 25:36 assistance and twisted wires contorted into the emotions of humanity.

In the room where she sat down, she tried to concentrate for the upcoming speech she had to give. Her thoughts were interrupted by the oboist in the (allegedly) soundproof room next to her. He painstakingly played a simple scale for forty-five minutes, not making much progress. Apparently he was majoring in liberal oboe composition, as his work really touched her soul like the painting of a green lobby across from her.

The lunch break wasn't really one for our heroine. She tried to figure out the meaning of the collage based off Thomas More's Utopia while eating salisbury steak (ironically served in the healthy food section of the cafeteria). She was not successful. And on their way out, her mother supported Amnesty International by the purchase of four snickerdoodles. (Editor's note: We do not know what Amnesty International is, but we do know that the snickerdoodles were satisfactory.)

After being scarred for life, her opinion on the whole thing was summed up in the word penciled on one of the classroom's desks: BLAH.


It is not good for (wo)man to be alone

IN A TOWN NEAR YOU -- Educators, beware. A recent discovery into the makeup of teenage girls has caused radical upset to all-girl schools and homeschoolers: women cannot live alone. It was reported that at a prestigious camp for high school juniors, in which girls were not allowed to even speak with boys, one girl became dangerously close to self-destruction.

At the end of the long week, the girls, tired of each other's female company, were met with the unloading of a bus of handsome basketball players. Overwraught, the girl in question allegedly pressed against the school wall and exclaimed, "If somebody doesn't kiss me right now, I'm going to explode!" It is uncertain whether her wishes were granted. Her boyfriend was not available for comment.

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7 impressions

  1. I am trying to suppress laughing out loud at the computer while reading this. I feel somewhat guilty, but still LOL. I deeply apologize for not teaching you a proper appreciation of modern art.

  2. :)) lol Wonderful Bayleaf! Your "The Un-socializeable Homeschooler Gazette"

    - That art looks........interesting.

  3. This truly sums up that homeschoolers are unsocialized in the arts. I'm calling the authorities right now. What do you mean that blank canvas with the small red dot isn't modern art?

    You forgot to mention that with all concrete comes that unmistakeningly horrible smell, that makes poor Bethanys want to faint while trying to avoid the art.


  4. Also guiltily laughing out loud...
    It's funny, but really sad, too. [not your lack of appreciation, but what the world calls profound art. yikes!]

    Thanks for the laugh. =)


  5. "'If somebody doesn't kiss me right now, I'm going to explode!' It is uncertain whether her wishes were granted. Her boyfriend was not available for comment." -Unsocialized Homeschooler's Gazette

    Ha, ha! As soon as I saw the title of this post, I eagerly anticipated some great fun, and I was not disappointed. You should do a monthly publication! I could handle a weekly one even. ;-) (No need to take me seriously, though, I know how much pressure it is to do something like this as often as every TWO months.)

    I share your sentiments about modern art. I just don't get it. "Normal" art is 100 times better!

    Oh, and I was going to mention that one of my absolute favorite books is "Mara, Daughter of the Nile" by Eloise Jarvis McGraw. You might like it.

    Thanks for the laugh!

  6. HAAAAAhahahaha! I know what you mean about the "art." Or at least, about thinking that way about the "art." :D

    And that last paragraph/story was just sad. :P

  7. Love it, Bailey! =) Junky art is just that ... junky.
    I've read the book Julia mentioned (twice, actually), and I greatly, greatly enjoyed it. Talk about tension and thrills. It's not written by a Christian author, so there are obviously little things I don't agree with, but still...!



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