Like the Beating of a Drum

Is this blog not intended as a good thing for me? Then why, pray tell, am I up late yet again, with bags under my eyes and a fuzzy grasp of the near future?

I must say this does not bode well. I have four teachers (despite three classes, but not to worry), three of these are English and History teachers, and one of these cannot keep a class riveted to save her life. I believe my quote is, or ought to be, "Paying attention in class keeps me from being bored." That was doodled in one blank space in my pre-cal class. I must say, I am learning, but to say that is to say that the man in the desert, having found a sippy-cup of water, is drinking. They're using some system called ALEKS. I am not entirely sure I wish to be ruled by a thing created by people that cannot seem to spell it's name correctly. That said, perhaps I'm not in a position to judge (cue laughtrack). I was assulted by ALEKS during my orientation. He judged me without letting me know what I was doing wrong, tricked me with vague questions and expectations, and used wordings and notation that I had neither seen nor used before. Still, perhaps that last bit wasn't entirely ALEKS' wrongdoings. Perhaps someone well taught, with a doctorate maybe, should have taught us these things instead of inflating his ego with long winded speeches. Yet here I am, sitting in Math 107, Pre-Cal, learning to play ALEKS' game, breaking through ALEKS' notation, and eventually I will satisfy his unchallangable judgement. I will listen to the lectures of ALEKS' deciple, and read ALEKS' texts, and fortify myself against his tricks one by one, until ALEKS' will find no more exits to the maze of it's creation. Perhaps sooner than ALEKS might think.