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Page 75 text:
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degrees above zero but a radical fervor and a glow of accomplishment supply the necessary warmth to his grinning face. He’s got a gimmick, he’s doing something different and he’s sure that others think he’s really quite clever. This boy is an individual, in that few have tried to install. J. Ravenscourt in public office. Conversely, he is very run-of-the-mill in that ah boys his age love to produce a really spectacular stunt. This is the art of being different, and ah teenagers heartily subscribe to it. This does not imply that youth enjoys being out of style, but rather it adores setting the style. Fads thrive on this ideology; once conceived, they are adopted by everyone. However, as soon as the new fad becomes uni¬ form, another starts and the former is deserted. This conformist attitude is not just manifest in choice of clothing, but rather in thought, word and deed all fall under the stencil. Teenagers de¬ siring to be a popular member of the “in group” must live according to its dictates. They look the same, like the same music, appreciate the same automobiles, enjoy the same food and in general, assume the role of “Mr. Stereotype.” Of course, there are exceptions to the island masses. The leader of the pack must be constantly changing and setting the styles to remain at the top. He owns the fastest car, the fastest girl and status of being number one. There is a second little class of people who, for one reason or an¬ other, “don’t rate.” The obese beings, the pro¬ found stupidheads, and the extremely clever, booky types are the “rejects”. Either by choice or conviction this group retains its singularity. Group number three is the class of those most likely to succeed. These are the winners in the adult life. They are the true individuals simply because they follow their beliefs and live according to no code but their own. It takes courage to break away from the conformists, winning only jeers and derision in the place of respect and commendation. So goes the story; the weak conform while the wild and willful go against the current. The teen¬ ager is the conformist. It is the young man that is the individual. —Bob McCaskill Form V Upper 71
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Page 74 text:
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So here I now was filling my face with popcorn and enjoying a horror movie which after, I wished I had never seen. Well, the show went on and I sat there thoroughly enjoying myself until I noticed that I had only half an hour to get home. I bade farewell to my friends and departed. This was my first time downtown without a parent or experienced friend so I naturally became afraid when I came out on the noisy streets. However, just when I was relieved at having spotted my bus stop, the bus roared by while I was still on the other side of the street. Because I was unfamiliar with the surroundings, I decided to stay close to the stop and hope that the next bus would come soon and carry me to “home sweet home.” I was greeted by a very stern voice which ordered me into the car. Upon explanation of my plight to Dad, he saw it in a different way and pardoned me for my disobedience. I enjoyed dinner that night but I think I would have enjoyed it even more if I had not undergone the terrifying experience an hour before. —David Boult Form III Upper ‘Why JVot dQead Jaynes J ond in the (Classroom? Booming buses approached from all over but none of them was the one that I wanted. As my anxiety grew, so did my fear. I had hoped that my friends would come out of the theatre soon, for they were ‘old hands’ at this downtown business. Yet they never came. I asked various people if the bus I wanted was running at the time and their replies were all yes—so I waited . . . for some time. I hadn’t noticed a small clock across the street, but when I did, my fear reached a high peak. It was then that I did the most foolish thing that I have ever done. I began walking—walking in a world that was unknown to me! I was walking blindly and I knew it, but I kept on. The terrain seemed to change after a long while. Gone were the tall department stores and in their place stood tiny bungalows, surrounded by small stubby trees. Gone was the continual din of traffic; only the odd car passed now. Things were becoming desolate. The thin film of soot that coated the ho uses and land around told me a freight yard was nearby. The idea of being lost materialized now and before I knew it, my eyes were fast filling with tears. I encountered a man and woman as I approach¬ ed a train underpass. I enquired where I could find the bus that would take me home and I was informed that I was about three miles away from the nearest stop. This only served to make me feel more ‘lost’, but after receiving information on how to get to the stop, I was on my way again. Now that I knew the way back, my tension was relieved somewhat. However, I dreaded the consequences of being over one and a half hours late for New Year’s dinner. I was relieved when I boarded the last of a succession of buses. I don’t think any bus will ever be a greater comfort to me than that’‘last’ one was. The James Bond cult, a fast-growing phenome¬ non, has now reached the classroom—under clandestine circumstances, of course. Because of this fact, the question “Why not read James Bond in the classroom?” has arisen. Taken at face value, reading James Bond in class possesses unmistakable virtues. Few things are quite as relieving as turning from a frustrating Mathematics class to an assuaging love scene, performed in true Bond style. Surely the monot¬ ony of a geography class can in no way be com¬ pared to the excitement of James Bond saving the world from the malicious schemes of a villain like Goldfinger. Even Literature class, which presents the student with gripping pieces of read¬ ing like “Richard the Second”, has a difficult time rivalling the exploits of secret agent, double-O seven. Nevertheless, the practice of reading James Bond novels in class, is not a wise one. Without a doubt, James Bond thrillers are great books to read; they were popular even unto the tastes of the late John F. Kennedy, but they are not for the classroom. The classroom is a hall of learning and what can be learned from a thriller is negligible. The classroom should not be perverted to the point where thrillers and cheap novels are read freely in it. Indeed, the people who would dare to pervert and degrade the classroom this way are precisely the people who should be working. James Bond should not be read in the class¬ room. The novels were not designed for the pur¬ pose of distracting students, however good they may be at it. They pervert the high ideals of learning in the classroom and can only harm a student’s studies. —Doug Mackay Form IV Upper Upon getting off that bus at my stop, I ran all the way home. I half expected to find the family still there, waiting for me, but all I found was a gruff note, saying that sandwiches were in the refrigerator. Just then the phone rang and I recog¬ nized my father’s voice on the other end. Without letting me explain anything, he told me to get changed into my Sunday-best, because he was coming around to pick me up. L Jle Teenage individual or C onformist “John Ravenscourt for Prime Minister.” So reads the sign of a crew cut youth, in plaid shorts, red sneakers and a sweat shirt, who is standing on the corner of Portage and Main. It is only thirty 70
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