Chez Gnu (1960-2002)

Written in what Gore Vidal has described as "the small and almost childlike letters of a total idiot," Chez Gnu's diary begins upon his arrival at the Coca Cola Junior High School in Sandusky, Ohio on September 1, 2001 and concludes June 25, 2002, three days after graduation. Chez left two diaries. The first was kept in a Scooby Doo spiral notebook out by the dumpster and the second was actually written with whiteout on the backs of the turtles in Mrs. Hagopian's Earth Science aquarium.
Chez's style is crisp and crunchy, highly literate and somewhat obtuse while at the same time exhibiting a martini-like sense of humor. It is interesting to compare and contrast the monthly analyses entered by Chez in his diary with say, a small patch of brown liquid under the sink. One can immediately notice the similarities and be awestruck by the differences. Chez often seems to ignore his daily impressions for a more hopeful summary of them. But Chez does not attempt to conceal either the course of his campaign, his growing desperation or his love of modern dance. The daily reports become increasingly sarcastic until towards the end he is considering just "paying for the damages and washing my hands of the whole thing until they are extremely clean". His courage, his mistakes in judgment, his naive and idiotic illusions and his disgusting personal hygienic practices are honestly set down.
Chez had a dream. A stupid, emptyheaded, absurd, moronic, feebleminded, ridiculous, rattlebrained, doltish, half-witted, foolish, irrational and senseless dream but a dream nonetheless.

Sept. 1

A new stage begins today. We arrived at the 7-11 at night. The trip was quite good and I even got the kosher meal by mistake. Upon reaching North Monroeville (appropriately disguised as matadors) Pachungo and I made the contacts and traveled by bus for two days. We stopped at the Flying "T" Truck Stop in Standardsburg and I told Pachungo to use the ladies room so as to avoid suspicion. Boy, was that a mistake. After the problem with the tampon machine, Pachungo had caused all eyes to be trained on us. The Proletariat began to wonder if we were involved in the making of an "indy feature" whatever that is. As a curious sidelight, the ineffable Tumaini quickly had them all sign a release and promised to keep their head shots on file. We were on our way again.
While heading toward the Parkertown Holiday Inn Bigotes, who had just discovered my identity, almost drove off a cliff leaving the Yugo stuck in the middle of a corn maze. We walked about 20 kilometres before Pachungo realized that we didn't have to negotiate the maze first, we could just walk through the corn in the direction of the busy highway we had been hearing for the past 14 hours.
Bigotes showed himself willing to collaborate with us on poker night but he is also loyal to Monje whom he respects and seems to like just a little too much for an Education Revolutionary. According to him Rodolfo feels the same way and so does Coco, but we must convince the group to fight for real education reform, not sit around all day wondering if "Monje likes me better or Tumaini".

Sept. 2

We spent the day in a tanning salon beside the arroyo, some 100 metres from the school. We were attacked by some sort of insects which are annoying but do not bite. Bigotes says they are called "cooties".

Sept. 3

An uneventful day. Tumaini and I surveyed the area, following the course of the Sulphur Brook Pipe Creek but we did not reach its source. It runs through an alley behind Kinko's and the area fortunately is little frequented. With proper discipline, a small recreational vehicle and a George Foreman Grill, one could possibly stay there a long time.
In the afternoon a heavy rain drove us back to the Red Roof Inn. I removed six ticks from my body.

Sept. 4

We did some good scouting of the school to prepare the area to be used as a campsite for when the six Morris Dancers of the second group arrive. The spot selected is about 20 metres from the Principal's office, on a small elevation of file cabinets. Close by there is a water fountain and vending machines. Pachungo is happy for the ease of access to water for now he can begin making his precious Jell-O.

Sept. 5

Some Janitors (or Custodians as the people around here call them) passed by our encampment today. These are the men of these halls of learning, young, old, married, unmarried, ideal for recruitment. They cordially hate their boss, Principal Marilyn Wyland and they report that there are houses 8 leagues away-- some with cable television! There is no other news.

Sept. 6

We set up an observation point overlooking the Gym so we can have some warning in case of any inspections or if the girls’ volleyball team is practicing. While two of us go scouting, each of the others remaining must spend three hours occupied with their respective educational reform pet projects. Bigotes keeps busy sabotaging the copy machine in the teacher's lounge while Monje writes sarcastic letters to the NEA and the AFT. Coco is trying to pass legislation that will allow the hiring of uncertified teachers and Pachungo has become quite adept at making Jell-O hats and hopes to someday create Jell-O shoes with suspended fruit in the style of Dutch wooden clogs. I don't really see what it has to do with education reform but if anyone can do it, Pachungo can!

Sept. 7

Everything has gone off rather well so far. We have arrived at the school with little difficulty. Half of the personnel is here. They also arrived without too much trouble but were somewhat delayed by a snafu in the paperwork for the llama. Ricardo's main collaborators will take to the mountains outside Mrs. Bohenke's 11th grade classroom but close enough to the payphone in case Monje has to cancel his podiatrist appointment. The prospect looks very good in this remote area between guidance and the cafeteria and everything indicates we can stay practically as long as we wish or at least until 6th period. The plans are to wait for the rest of the group and then pretend not to know who they are. Just before they get angry, we will say "Just kidding!" and allow ourselves a few moments of revolutionary laughter before returning to our labours; those labours being the pacifistically violent overthrow of the American public school system through the use of satire, common sense and wedgies. Viva la revolution!

Sept. 8

Today we engaged the enemy. The battle unfolded like this: at 7:25am, Marcos, Pacho, Miguel and Pombo created a diversionary tactic wherein they recreated the famous Abbott and Costello dialogue "Who's on First?" outside of Mr. Fidrych's homeroom. When the capitalist pig came out to see what the commotion was - I slipped inside and met the students of the revolution. I informed them that they didn't really need to say the Pledge of Allegiance every morning, "once is enough with a pledge" I said, "Otherwise people won't believe you at the next walk-a-thon." I then taught them how to read. After finishing with a rousing rendition of "The International", I told them their shoes were untied and escaped during the ensuing confusion. Back at base camp, we celebrated our victory with an impromptu talent show and Twinkies for dessert.

TO BE CONTINUED...