More Blasphemous Rumors

Unedited, imperfect. Well, the photo - it’s cropped.

I just like the photo with the broken link… it doesn’t have much to do with the post.

When I was in 8th grade my parents were going through a divorce. It wasn’t particularly nasty, but it certainly wasn’t nice and, like it or not, it did have an effect on me and my grades. I faltered. I was still able to do well enough in Math to qualify for Geometry as a freshman, but I wasn’t doing that great in my English class. When the Honor’s English list came out I wasn’t on it. All my friends were on it. Well, most of my friends.

And I was proud. And even though I really didn’t like most of the books they read in Honor’s English I went to the teacher and pleaded my case and promised that I would do better, that I would pull my weight and I wouldn’t be a drag on the class. Apparently there was room. They let me in.

Robinson Crusoe was nearly the death of me. I don’t remember if it was assigned to me or if I picked it but I had to give an oral book report, in front of the class, on Robinson Curse-oh. Oh no. I tried. I really tried to read it but I could not. Friday? Whatever. I couldn’t get into it. I couldn’t comprehend the writing, the wonder, the style. The report was coming due and I had maybe made it halfway. What to do? I was going up to present… for sure. Too proud not to but I wasn’t going to finish the book. That was clear.

So I did what I do. I was honest. I went up there and summarized the story up to where I made it and then I gave an honest review of how I just couldn’t make it through the whole book. It was not interesting enough and I just kept falling asleep. I was so nervous. My voice was shaking. But I did still get laughs. I think the teacher gave me a “B”. It was more than I deserved.

Another trimester at progress reports my report card said something about how I always fell asleep in class. Uh… yeah. So boring. I told my mom it was because it was right after PE and lunch - which was true but in reality it was just boring. The Scarlet Letter was that trimester. The discussions just dragged on and on. Though I did do my best oral report of my life when I took on the persona of Mark Twain and told one of his stories in first person.

Poetry…. I think poetry in Honor’s English as a senior is when I started to write on my own outside of class. I remember really getting into it and being so proud. At the end the teacher selected some poems for students to read at the front of the class. I was not one of them. I was deflated. And then. And then one of the star students in our class was selected and they went up and read their poem, which the teacher lauded as amazing, fantastic, splendid… and they read their poem and it was essentially the exact lyrics from Depeche Mode’s, “Blasphemous Rumors”. And to this day I am amazed that they were able to go to the front and recite the poem to the class as if it was their own. I mean, how? I would not be able to do such a thing. The gall.

I thought for sure they would get caught but no one turned them in and the teacher certainly did not listen to Depeche Mode. The student did go on to do great things. Great things for the country actually. Amazing. And was a good friend of mine for a long time though my opinion of them did go down a notch after that. Sometimes my pride frustrates me… but where was their pride? Their honesty?

And now… as we are blasted in the face with AI I feel constantly reminded of Blasphemous Rumors and how folks are presenting things as if it were their own, but it is not. Now yes, I know that it can be a powerful tool and there are times where it is appropriate and I really don’t have a problem with it if the use is clearly announced… that’s fine. But please, don’t deceive. Don’t pretend you made it. Don’t pretend you knew it. Be honest with yourself and the world. Reality is at stake.

I am tired of watching this show. Give me the real, the imperfect, the genuinely created. Please.

I wrote this. I don’t run my stuff through AI to clean it up. I do make use of the built in spell check but I mostly ignore grammar suggestions. I don’t like how they change the voice. I took the picture. That’s what this stack is all about. Imperfect. Genuine. Faulted. Sometimes totally wrong. And proud.