Sad Sack's Second Mission: Employment Empowerment

Hello, once again, be-limbed* mortals, ye who slavishly worship the Cult of Sack…not to be confused with cul-de-sac, that’s a totally different thing. Though they’re nice, you know, safe…good if you have kids. I don’t have kids. Not that I want one or anything, you know, a little carbon copy blobule rolling around with my eyes and clever wit. Someone to spend time with and talk to, that’d be…Yeah, it’s for the best; the world probably couldn’t handle that much Sack.

So, anyway, the SackPhone (it’s shaped like a ham) just started buzzing and I get this urgent message that there’s now a freaking employment crisis in Modesto. For freak’s sake, people, didn’t I just save your bony butts from an educational catastrophe last week? I mean, at some point we need to stand back and ask whether having me solve all your problems is actually helping you or hurting you. What would my fellow gelatinous flesh-sack, Dr. Phil, have to say about all this? It might be time for some tough love, folks (as opposed to rough love).

There's nothing dirty about this

Well, in the meantime, I’ll figure out this one problem for you, but you’d better not need my help again anytime soon…because I will seriously lose it. Ok, here we go:

LEARN

The string-pulling powers that be provided some links to Modesto employment fun facts. I’ve read them and have absorbed the pertinent details without feeling the need to endlessly reiterate them all right here. What I’ve discovered is that Modesto is an armpit (I can call it that because I’m from here, however, outsiders better not dis it or I’ll give them strong doses of both the Evil Eye and Stinkybutt). It has nearly twice the national unemployment rate and a buttload of crime. Our biggest claim to fame is George-freaking-Lucas, but he won’t touch this town with a 10-foot pole. We’ve got agriculture, but that doesn’t seem to employ anyone (less than 1,000) and retail and manufacturing. Whoop-de-doo.

ACT

Ugh. Well, I glanced at the helpful links of projects in progress but very little penetrated into my brain. It seems like the groups and projects that have been established were established a while back and we’re really not going to be able to squeeze anymore blood from those stones (is that a real metaphor? I don’t care). While, I like the idea of a High Speed Rail line covering the whole state, these things are always all talk and no action. I figure I’ll be enjoying that thing when I’m in my eighties…and that’s probably not an exaggeration. One thing we could do is prevent businesses like Hershey’s from taking their jobs to other countries. We could boycott them or give them a tax incentive. For my part, I'll give them the Evil Eye which is usually pretty effective. But ultimately, this won't do much. I just don’t think there are any easy answers. Our federal government could go into to Depression-era mode and start hiring people to build a bunch of crap…aren’t all the sidewalks around MJC stamped by the WPA? I hear they eat well on the chain-gang. Hmm, we could wait this thing out…recessions come and go. I could blanket us all in Tedium and we’ll just roll our eyes until it’s over. We could switch to a trade and barter system; I’ll give you three buttons and a wooden nickel in exchange for some goat cheese and a cracker. Or we could move somewhere nice until the money starts flowing again.

IMAGINE

I’m imagining myself in a cool, dark pub with a pint…or is that not what you had in mind? In a few years all will be back to normal. Your marriage might have broken up and your children might be in the system somewhere, but things are balancing out. You may even be able to move out of your parents’ basement. Give it time, it will happen –after all, what goes down, must come up.

Unrelated cat-sidekick Norman pic

*It’s a freaking word now. It means “to have limbs” i.e. arms and legs, unlike yours truly.

Sad Sack’s First Mission: Educational Empowerment

Hello, foolish mortals. Foolish, feeble, weak and angular mortals. This is Sad Sack reporting from mission control (i.e., my couch). Apparently there was some sort of “mission” we super types had to accomplish by yesterday which I did not do. Obviously. I didn’t do it because I am very busy and important and have many demands for my time…and, also, I have no arms. That always tends to drag out the amount of time it takes me to do stuff. Any stuff. Like, for example, just scratching my butt is a major undertaking that rarely ends in any kind of real satisfaction. Sigh. Sigh. SIGH.


Trying to scratch in a puddle of Awkward Sauce

Well, anyway, today I put some effort that-hey, you know what would be awesome and super helpful? Elves. Little, tiny, Keebler-style elves that could just hang around here and like, scratch me when I itch…and maybe wipe the sweat from my flanks on a hot day…that’d be so good, man, I need elves. Elves. ELVES. So, today I put some effort into solving the educational crisis and here’s what I came up with:

LEARN

I was, like, supposed to learn something about the educational something or something. So I made a phone call to my alter ego’s Aunt Jan. Aunt Jan teaches fifth grade at an elementary school in Riverside, California and that totally qualifies her to talk about whatever it is we’re supposed to be talking about. She laid out how the state and nationwide cuts to educational funding have affected her school (and probably every other school in California especially Modesto). Apparently, the government’s made it more difficult for schools to qualify for Title 1 funds. These funds are supposed to level the educational playing field for disadvantaged kids and pay for things like; extra staffing, reading specialists, educational assistants, PE teachers and music programs. Yeah, all that shiznit. In fact, Aunt Jan’s school has dropped the arts altogether. Teachers are told to focus mainly on test scores for language and math. They’re even discouraged from putting student artwork on the walls because it’s considered a waste of time. Class sizes for kindergarten through third grade have also been affected by funding problems. The average size went from 15 or 20 kids to 30 kids per class in a few years. They were able to eliminate many teachers. Unfortunately, the ones remaining have to deal with book shortages and scrounging for desks and chairs. Also, the increased class sizes mean no small group interaction. Aunt Jan admitted that because of these obstacles, some kids will probably fall through the cracks.

ACT

Hmm. Okay, my own self-described super powers are as follows: Evil Eye, Wall of Impenetrable Despair, Really Awkward, Stinkybutt and Tedium. I’m not exactly sure how to channel these towards fixing the educational ills of society. I suppose I could sprinkle some of my Really Awkward sauce (it comes in a sauce format) upon the legislators and make them stew in it until they increase funding and awesomeness ensues. If I got my wish and had Keebler elves at my disposal I could just have them contact the Lucky Charms leprechaun and he could give us a pot of gold. But none of this is realistic. Aunt Jan said what would really help are community volunteers. Senior citizens or other helpful types with loads of spare time who could come in, assist the teachers, and give the kids more one-on-one time (but not in a pervy way). I guess that would be a way to start…I don’t know if I’m actually supposed to do that or not or if this is just hypothetical. If I actually have to do something, let me know, and I’ll go buy a random kid a book…with, like, equations in it.

IMAGINE

Ummmmm…I thought I totally did that, just now with like the awkward sauce and the gold and the helpful seniors and stuff…Hmm. It does sound to me like it all comes down to money. Schools need more money and education shouldn’t be the first cut whenever there’s a budget crisis. Instead of my Awkward Sauce, perhaps communities should pull together and hose the lawmakers down with their own sauce. Put the pressure on them until they have to do our will or be ousted. The resources I need are; people who actually give a crap (and that’s really not my forte). If I could, I would get people interested and impassioned enough to rise up and fight for their children’s education…light a fire under their asses. That will lead to change which will lead to funding for schools which will lead to more teachers, more resources, smaller class sizes and happiness all around.


The fire I'll light under their asses

SAD SACK BEGINNINGS

In the beginning, Sad Sack seemed like your everyday, run of the mill, small person. She/It had had all of the tools for a normal existence:


Seen here out-pouting Macaulay Culkin

And then, one day at the beach, something horrible happened:


What?

The exact series of events is unknown, but billions of scientists and experts agree on the following variables: 1. Puberty may have been a factor, 2. Gypsy curse, and 3. Jellyfish sting. Oh yes, the world’s most brilliant minds have deduced that these three factors were the ingredients that led to perfect storm (I’m totally mixing metaphors here) that hatched Sad Sack unto the world on that fateful day so long ago. The essence of each ingredient became the magical fairy powder with which Sad Sack busts ass. For example:

Puberty – Extreme awkwardness and mood swings (including despair and tedium)
Gypsy Curse – Evil Eye and Stinkybutt
Jellyfish Sting – Boneless blob of undulating gel

With these powers at her disposal, Evil-doers don’t stand a chance. Much like a Cooler at a casino, Sad Sack’s mere proximity can suck the life and will to do wrong, hell, the will to do anything, right out of them. More often than not, criminals will give up on the spot and crouch in a corner contemplating ending it all. It’s like shooting fish in a barrel. Criminal fish with black eyemasks and handguns.
Hooray for Sad Sack.

My Pedestrian Identity

I assume everyone reading this had to go through many levels of extremely tight security and clearances because I can’t just give my “real” identity to anyone. I mean, you all must be members of the Awesome League of Awesomeness, right? Right…If any of you squeal my secrets, I swear I will open up a can of Stinkybutt on you so fast, you’ll have to shower for weeks before the fumes will stop radiating from you like heat waves off a sidewalk.

Ahem. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, when I’m not fighting injustices and/or unnecessary cheerfulness, I go by the name of “Christina.” By day I’m an art student at an unnamed university (by night, I cry myself to sleep while clutching a two-dollar bottle of wine – but you don’t need to know that). I disguise my blobtacular physique in polo shirts and jeans from Walmart (Faded Glory FTW) and nobody is the wiser.

Sometimes, my superpowers get the best of me and before I know it, I’ve blasted an entire classroom in Really Awkward sauce. Luckily, I have years of practice mopping up that mess.

Here I am as "Christina"

Please disregard previous posts...

Hi classmates, please don't go beyond this point (well, you can, but it's unrelated to the class). These are the remnants of a blog I haven't updated in 2 years. I tried to hide them, but could only find the option to delete (which I'm unwilling to do right now). Anyway, from here on up, it's all classwork.