25 February 2008
9:22 PM
Today, my class was obsessed with
the End of the World.
They asked for my take on the world's impending doom come 2012 (so my class softballer claims), and I really wonder if I should have provided a
geographical, theological, fantastical or spiritual perspective. So I procured all, and rather unsatisfactorily on hindsight. I recall a terrified student sitting motionless (an incredible control of muscle there), so horrified she was rooted to her seat, a pillar of salt. I kid you not, it
was that alarming.
Another told me the Bible claimed that a dragon in the ocean will rise from the depths of our three-quarter of Earth's surface area-covering oceans before our last day.
Then her friend told her that was actually the legend of the loch ness monster, and they were in dead serious (pun only realised) contemplation. Naturally, this required a certain degree of finesse and sombreness on my part, both of which I lacked , so I settled for flippancy and nonchalance. The sun implodes in about a billion years later, so
no worries there, right?
What was impressive was that they were actually worried for their children's children. When I was
that age, I worried about lost choral scores or whether mum'll let me go heeren to be cool.
Different worldviews, I see.
Also, everyone was
extremely eager to contribute to the roaring discussion of
NEWater. I gamely denied any knowledge of excretion floating about in bottles, but they were very determined. I think the general sentiment was a
horrified glee. Or a gleeful horror.
It was quite terrible for me, pretending not to listen to their vile but lyrical descriptions of their grandparents' different consistencies. I was giggling in an unbecoming (then again, giggling has always been unbecoming) way. But I am straight-faced and undaunted, and we finished the lesson in perfect understanding of our uncompromisely
vulnerability.
I think this beat Stanley's rice-throwing incident hands down, eyes closed.
