I Tear Chemistry a New One

I have torn one other class a new one, but let me tell you about chemistry, the only class where the light of God himself does not shine. I hate chemistry so much. The teachers do not teach, we do dumb activities, we learn about junk that is completely irrelevant to everyday life. Let me take an opportunity to explain the job of a teacher, which chemistry teachers seem to not get.

A teacher's job is to teach. In fact, teach is right there in the word teacher. I don’t see how they could miss that. I can't stand it when teachers just tell their students to look at the examples in the book. No, you have to demonstrate at least twice how to do something before I will fully understand it, espectially if it has something to do with stoiciometry or aqueous solutions or Gay Lussac's Law, which by the way is the funniest name I have ever heard.

As some of you know, I have already torn speech class a new one. I feel much the same way about chemistry. I think there are a grand total of 19 people in the entire history of the world who have ever liked chemistry, and I am not one of them. But in order for my rippage to be unique to chemistry and the people who takes part in it, I will be using Shakespearean insults to make it really suffer. If you are chemistry, you'd better duck and cover, because I'm dropping the atom bomb, OLD SCHOOL:

I say to you: Rogue, thou hast liv'd too long. I took thee for thy better, but you were thy worst. Away, you bottle-ale rascal, you filthy bung, away! Thou'rt by no means valiant;
For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork of a poor worm. Your virginity breeds mites, much like a cheese. Thy virginity, your old virginity is like one of our French wither'd pears: it looks ill, it eats drily. Thou roguish dismal-dreaming whey-face! Thou art essentially a natural coward without instinct. Thou art a yeasty toad-spotted hedge-pig! Thou bawdy plume-plucked lewdster! Draw your neck out of your collar. Thou rank tardy-gaited clotpole! Thou cockered rough-hewn devil-mon! Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I might water an ass at it. I find the ass in compound with the major part of your syllables. Thou puny scurvy-valiant coxcomb! Thou art a dull and muddy-mettled rascal. Thou dankish fat-kidneyed hugger-mugger! Idol of idiot-worshippers! Thou burly-boned unchin-snouted canker-blossom! No word to save thee. I hate you chemistry, I hate you.

That last part wasn't Shakespearean, but I just couldn't hold it in. I have never worked so hard and learned so little. I don’t know the difference between an ionic and molecular compound and I don’t even care. And I am confidant that I never will. As far as I’m concerned, it’s DEAD TO ME.