Oakwood Collegiate Institute - Oracle Yearbook (Toronto Ontario, Canada)

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3fi lotut Twelve noon — the ninth and final exam is com- ing up at 2:10. As usual, it ' s Math. Every term, every year, it seems the last exam in the set I write is Mathematics. After vaguely looking over the formulas of x ' s, y ' s, and m ' s, I am left with little but the mistiest conception of what this system of associations, dis- tributions, rises, runs, slopes, functions, and all manners of equations, is. After all, what is it but a network of tangled numerals and symbols? The language of a mystic science? No. There is no room for doubt. Each answer is precise with an added set of qualifications which render it absolutely indis- putable. A totalitarian system! And totalitarianism implies not only a state of aff ' airs, but also denotes a plague, a malignant cancer which forges chains. On my transistor radio, There are no truths outside the gates of Eden , wails Bob Dylan. When we reach the state of unreasoning reason, unques- tionable logic, brutal and bereft becomes our basic premise. But there is in this system the inevitable flaw at which we can strike. Mathematics refuses to recognize the qualities of zero! Here it is powerless. It can only weakly suggest that it refuses to recognize division by zero — no attributes. A sum of zeros yields a terrifying total. To Mathe- matics this is meaningless. It won ' t acknowledge the validity of the immense power zero wields. Even Physics realizes that Nature will never toler- ate a vacuum. The greatest happiness for the greatest number , reads the principle of utility. If we all had bril- liantly mechanical minds. Mathematics would be the ideal solution for mankind. However, the way man is, he does not strive after an end which regiments and or suppresses his best qualities: his facility and resourcefulness, his creativity. These are stifled in a world governed by sets, functions, relations, ordered pairs, and graphs. Mathematics sets its own laws and makes what assumptions it wishes. It hurls defiance at every- thing outside its textbooks. It exists not even for the sake of existence — for even an existentialist has character, attitudes, sensibilities. Even the existentialist harmonizes with some aspect of the Universe, otherwise he would necessarily commit suicide. (Can we therefore assume that Mathe- matics will sooner or later commit suicide? Perhaps, but if it does, we go with it.) One may speak of the great advantages which technology contributes to our well-being. Although they have practical uti lity, they will still tend to automate, de-humanize , theorize for, us. We should be concerned with the influence of Mathe- matics. It creates the mentality which will engage itself in nothing but theory and the theoretical practical usages of that theory. It can also create the mentality which will practise technology in support of the utilitarian principle. We can only tolerate Mathematics if its purpose remains subservient to mankind. Now I ' m about ready to take on Mathematics. Fortified, I can now trot in and register the marks I need. But the few I do get wiU not come because I am familiar with the course. At least not con- sciously. My conditioned reflexes will add the exponents for me. Meanwhile, the fires have ceased to rage, and we ' re left with the smouldering charcoal and smoke. David Frank Words communicate us to our fellow beings; Thus, glib-tongued men venture forth and become kings. While the quiet ones think of immaterial, precious things, Unheard songs which each heart so ardently sings. How can words express emotional states? Then are they but artificial, unrealistic delegates. How can words describe a storm which abates. Or modify a man who is great? Such ugly things — words! So they wiU always be thought. For words cannot tell of natural mysteries sought, Nor can they replace those feelings which cannot be bought — For words are often sold, but immaterial things are not. Chris Pascucci 65

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' euk ut(f Cool burning sand, a roaring sea, A flush of light; A thousand eery figures swaying To a rhythm; A flicker of a flare, and suddenly. Life. A mad, hysterical frenzy of existence. Caught in a spell; Red, Orange, Black, Bongo! A tempest roaring in an ear. In the other A beat. Forget yourself — forget today — Until tomorrow. Long hair, a shoulder, eyes closed now, Leave the world behind. Live — for a pulsating hammer Drown everything. Fill your brain with fire! But soft. Humans come too. Live today, not tomorrow. Love. Lovers. A touch, a smile — burn. Soft now; Slower. Laughing too — a haunting laugh. Hollow. Hide behind your mask of smiles But don ' t get caught. Life ' s good — if you ' re a watcher! Marjorie Montgomery 12B A fierce, howling wind tore at the trees, A moaning wind, singing of death and disease, But sudden, a howl came into the night While over the hill, a blaze of light. It flickered, danced, beckoned me on. And I followed its path — so long, so long — To the top of the hill where, etched in the light Stood a figure of evilness, black as the night. Attracted, repelled, bewildered, amazed, Hesitantly I moved toward him dazed; ' Til with a sudden flash of light. Gone was the evil and the night. I Stood; I cried; I wept. Beverly Freedman 12B Izabel Wojciechowska 12F yf Vkou kt bowt Out %(im Green with shame I turn from bodies Ridden with bullets and blood. Dying in name From man ' s own hand. Cry, oh yee gods, On this subject of death. What is liberty, equality? Only a body being eaten By flies in a gutter. What are we doing here? What are we doing anywhere? Hunters we are that kill And kill by profession alone Faraway from our proper home. 64

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Leonard Rudenko 12F 66