George Koch
In-Class Final


"Buzzz ... buzzz..." says your alarm clock, trying to awaken you. No response. Now you've gone and done it; the alarm clock is mad now. "I said, WAKE UP!" it shouts at you. You stare at it with a scowl that could sink a ship. It's 6:15 a.m. Well, this is the story of you and about 50 million other people who have to get up early for school. But there's been a proposal: Start school at 10:00 instead. There are a few reasons why this is an unwise idea. Let's imagine what it would be like if school did in fact start at ten o'clock...

The first problem, here, is that you're going to be causing many of your ten functioning brain cells to retire. When they realize they can go back to sleep for nearly three more hours, they will of course do precisely that, in their haste forgetting to set their subatomic-particle-size alarm clocks. So they'll be out cold until probably 8 p.m. (And even if your brain cells do remember to set their tiny alarm clocks, the cells will just hit the tiny "snooze" buttons when the buzzer goes off.) You will of course wake up before your 10:00 class starts, but until your brain cells awaken, you'll have the IQ level of a can of soup (or even a politician). And your brain cells will wake up at night, and all they'll be able to do for you is to remind you that you're tired.

But wait! That's not all—going to school at 10 a.m. means you'll get home at 5 p.m.! This means you'll miss the afternoon showing of "The Price Is Right," which would be disastrous indeed. You will be reduced to evening-news shows, and you'll be as bored as a 2x4 (which is always board). Besides missing game shows, getting home at 5:00 would also mean that, if you go outside, you're liable to be assaulted by mosquitoes the size of major kitchen appliances. And since you'll be severely injured from hundreds of mosquito bites, you'll miss tomorrow's episode of "The Price Is Right" too.

More bad news: Starting school at 10:00 can be hazardous to your education. You will forget that Columbus discovered Ohio in 1776. Also, your sleeping brain cells (remember them?) will not be able to recall the correct answers for you come exam time. For example, when you're asked, "Who discovered and proved the Pythagorean theorem?", you'll put down some silly answer like "Pythagoras." And you will be wrong. The correct answer is, of course, John Theorem. Not only will your brain be gone, but so will your teachers.' Instead of teaching you vital information that will someday prove useless, such as that "there are 13 satellites orbiting Neptune," your astronomy teacher will tell you that "there are 13 cows orbiting Neptune." And she will be wrong. The correct answer, of course, is that "John Theorem is orbiting Neptune."

One last problem exists with starting school late, and that problem is best summarized as: "Moo." Oh, wait, that's a quote from an interview with Mrs. O'Leary's cow, who is accused of causing Chicago to burn down while a dozen bovines orbited Neptune. The real other problem with the late-start scenario, as quoted by Fred Spackle, is, "Starting school late is bad for your health." Of course, since he is the Surgeon General, he declares everything bad for your health—even himself! Nonetheless, he may be right. You could get infected with Bedbug-itis ("bed" means "unattractive person," "bug" means "who is," and "-itis" means "prone to road rage"). The one real drawback is that the Surgeon General has declared ugly reckless drivers are bad for your health.

All in all, starting school late is just bad news. You'll not get any good out of it. Trust me. Trust your alarm clock. And WAKE UP!