I would like to nominate “The Big Spell” for a cunting.
Yet again this trite reality shite has been imported from the states except there they call it a “Spelling Bee”.
Basically you get a set of kids of a certain age and ask them to spell words. If they get one wrong they’re out and the words increase in difficulty and length until the last man’s standing (or child as the case may be).
Ok, my problem with this stems from my own childhood at age 11 – prior to going to “Big School” – we were given tests to decide what class you’d end up in in high school ranging from the brightest in group 1 to the remedials in group 7.
At age 11 I had a reading age of 15 but a spelling age of 7. They even had me Mam up to have a word – like she could do anything about it – soft cunts. I spelled stuff as it sounded but I was able to discern the differences while reading, i.e., I could parse what I read but couldn’t reproduce it when writing it out.
I was basically a lazy cunt but a summer of cribbing up on my phonetically challenged spelling saw me as good as my peers when I did enter high school.
Ok – to get to the cunting – a girl in my street, and she was lovely, a really nice girl, could remember anything. She was truly gifted in that sense, but, she was as thick as day old porridge. However because she had this savant-esque memory she could spell anything.
My issue with this shite is this: what’s more important, knowing what a word means or knowing how to spell the cunt?
I was asked to spell “immaculate” and got it wrong. The girl breezed it, I’d missed an ‘M’ out. As I was feeling “shammered” (to quote a Stokey expression) I did say: “Yes and what does it MEAN!?!” – a little unfair because it was the teacher who’d gotten on my tits.
So the teach retorted: “Well what does it mean?” to me and as quick as a flash I said: “Clean, pristine, spotless.” to which the cunt said: “Ah yes but can you spell those as well?” – cheeky cunt! That one burned in me for years! Cunt teacher – but I still liked her as well, I suppose.
Anyway what is the fucking point of knowing how to spell something if you don’t even know what it means? Any cunt can parrot learn swathes of text/literature but what use is that if there’s no understanding of the sentiment/semantics of that text?
Fucking pointless if you ask me – hence the cunting.
Nominated by Rebel without a Cunt
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