Ask Not for Whom the Final Bell Tolls . . . ; or, This Is How It Ends—Not with a Bang but with a Principal’s Whimper
Bedlam’s principal, Bentley VanderHaar, should have been relaxed. It was […]
Author: Jan Kaarsvlam
The Metaphor in the Room, or Like Fodder for Elephants
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She Reads to Conquer Or The Books U Give
Christine Lopez stood outside the biology room, staring at Sam Toomer’s classroom […]
Confessions of a Bedlam Doughnut Eater Or Professional Development Comes for the Librarian
Gord Winkle sighed with happiness. It was second period, his free period. […]
Portrait of the Student as a Young Atheist Or The Unbearable Weight of Being (Curious)
Maxwell Prentiss-Hall, Bedlam’s counselor, entered the teachers’ lounge at break and slumped […]
Timid New World; or, Fear and Loathing in the Board Room; or, Childe Christina to the Dark Tower Came
Bible teacher Cal VanderMeer was sipping coffee and perusing the newspaper when […]
Of Chapel Committees and Kings; Or, Cal and the Art of Automotive Maintenance
Industrial arts teacher Gord Winkle gathered up his notebook, pen, and folder; […]
A Heartbreaking Lesson Plan of Staggering Imbecility, or How I Learned to Quit Worrying and Love the MMOG
Gord Winkle was well into his third jelly doughnut, his mustache vibrant […]
The Stain (It’s Plain) Lies Mainly On the Chapel Carpeting: Or, When in the Golf Course of Human Events
“Well, I think it is stupid!” said Red Carpenter. “I mean, the […]
Slouching Toward Bedlam: Admission Impossible, or International Treasure
The entire faculty gathered in the staff room immediately after school. It […]