My Pythagoras's Story
Character Illstration by "GEORGIEandJAMES"
One hot humid day in London, a lowly underpaid science teacher.
was mopping his brow whilst grading underachieving student papers.
He had far more to worry about than the youths he had to try to teach at his unfortunate placement at one of Hackney's Community Colleges.
The heat and the conditions were revolting, as were the students.
Only last week he had narrowly escaped being stabbed with a makeshift "biro shank" by Shaquille, after trying to explain why he had been referred again on his physics paper.
Despite this attempt at murder, he thought of how the bureaucratic headmaster had tried to blame him for the incident, but thought of this only briefly,
as he had far more pressing things to think about.
Unbeknownst to the rest of the teaching team, whom he saw with derision at their feeble attempts to 'connect' to an uninterested student body,
he busied himself of an evening in his real work.
Formula after formula,
re-analysis after re-analysis, the answer was always correct.
The sketches and mathematical equations always ended up the same.
His small apartment was littered with piles of papers, peppered with scientific
equations, which wouldn't make sense to you and i,
but to this lowly science tutor, the problem was all too real and growing ever nearer.
Bottles of Bourbon didn't drown out the reality.
He had tried to consult his fellows in Maths and Science, but they saw him as a fool, not a visionary. The drink made him think they were jealous, but the grim reality that accompanied the hangover every morning made him realise that no-one really wanted to hear it.
He had discovered that a dark presence was looming. Looming towards humanity. It would sap at the will of society, turning it into a generation of Jeremy Kyle watchers,
Kerry Katona fanatics and Iceland pre-packed meal heaters.
He had predicted that a dark force would take shape shortly
- using dark means to achieve dark goals -
He couldn't take any more. He had to get drunk to ease the impending doom and the futility of his situation of being heard, but only by the voices in his head.
The next thing he remembered was waking up in darkness at the smell of burnt oil,
his head at the wheel of his ford cortina,
protected by various woodland shrubs and soft ferns he had crashed into,
that had thankfully prevented him from flying through the windshield....
He looked at the yellowish green sign proudly glaring at him
through his smashed windscreen.
He knew what he had to do.
He knew that there would be others out there that would understand.
Others who would support his theory.
Others that help rise up against the pressing darkness.
Prising himself from the reckage
he stole away into the night.
He would get another car.....
and find those allies.....
MR PYTHAGORAS wears
reconditioned hand me down suit by Georgie&James, trousers by Dior homme, loafers by Eley Kishimoto.
Vintage sunglasess from Japan
Morrisons bag of justice - models own
Silent Look......
Powerful Brain.....
Bag of Justice......
you will soon learn what hides in this bag
ELLY EYLLY ELLY ELLY........
No comments:
Post a Comment