Musings of JR Simmang

This isn't a dialog about Socratic seminars or circles, though I do find them interesting and inspirational. And, there will be no imbibing of hemlock on the Senate steps. Instead, I wonder how Socrates would approach the modern educational dilemma. Educational Dilemma. It seems there's been one every year since Socrates, and I don't know if there actually is one, or if it's just the same issue since then and that issue hasn't ever been resolved. Keeping that in mind, if there's an issue that hasn't ever been resolved, is it a dilemma or just a quandary? Perhaps, I'll refer to it as the Educational Quandary from here on in. So, what is the Educational Quandary? Here I stand in the front of the classroom, Monday through Friday barring holidays, and I expect to see attention, semi-attention, and non-attention. Henry Wong coined these green, yellow, and red zones. Other teachers have come up with synonymous dubs, and I think they're all right....

I get asked this question a lot in my classroom: "What do you think of Trump?" I teach 6th grade science. There's a time and a place for political discussion, and the 6th grade science classroom is not that place. But, my kids know they can bait me into a discussion, and it's one I like to answer. Here's my response: "Get back to work." Kidding. I'm a better teacher than that. So, I answer from the perspective of 6th grade science teacher. I try to respond as if whatever I say may have ramifications for years to come. So, here's what I say: "Kid, you know there's a lot of news, information, slander, bias, fact, and opinion coming at us from all directions. We're getting distracted and being told what we want to hear, or we're ignoring what we don't want to hear (By this time, I've lost a few of them. Only the stalwart remain.). Truth of the matter is this: 95% of media coverage of Trump has been negative. U...

Sequencing was the job of Harper Sigma, and getting him to shut up was more difficult than Splitting. So, we brought him along only when we needed him. Of course, hindsight’s 20-20, and now I was staring at a rotary dial phone with an ornate cathead receiver and a noose for a cord. 843, I try. 8.4.3, I try again. The line was dead as far as I could tell; the only response I got was a single, unconvincing tone, but it was all just the same. His mind was a steel trap. Quite literally. “What we got, Alpha?” Tau startled me. “We got… squat,” I mutter. Tau holds his hand up to his face to block the filtered sunlight that bounded through the broken windows and crumbling parapets. “You think he’s in there?” Robert Cutcheons. Man made of money. Man made of fame. Man made of death. “Yes,” I say, the gravity in my voice making me sound more confident than I felt. Beta sidles up next to us and reaches around my shoulders, hugging me reassuringly. He was kind that way. Kinder than...

The sun never sets on Sisyphus because its orbit is highly erratic. That’s why the Kryzlakians call it Budat, the Sky Demon. So far from home, though, even a sky demon is good company. Truth be told, I’m not sure why I took the job. But, when planet calls you to duty, you don’t ignore the call. I stared out through the argon vapor at the horizon and caught a glimpse of Kryzlak. Right now, they’d be asleep, waiting for the sun to set for them. “Whatcha thinkin’?” I blinked to clear the memory of The Run from my mind, and focused on Darcy. “Just that I’m not sure how this is going to go.” “What? The delegation?” “Yeah.” He put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze. “Look, the Runs stopped two centuries ago, and we’ve made great strides in relations since then. Plus, I bet they wouldn’t have elected Ret-Abel if he wasn’t a great negotiator.” I patted his hand before checking the server for any updated messages. My hand hovered over the icon sent from Earth, th...

She was a female from all outward appearances, and she appeared to be nearly human. Probably Delvian. I remembered seeing old features from pre-scorched Hollywood of this mythical race of people called Elves. Turned out to be not so much a myth. Delvians had pointed ears and slightly larger eyes. There was something mystical about them, like they could always peer into your soul.  And, they were uniquely sensual. At least to me. I was certain she was Delvian. “Anazia?” She nodded. “Then, where am I supposed to be?” “When.” I shook my head in confusion, my stomach clenching again. “Now?” “Now, you should not be here. You do not belong in this biopool.” “Biopool?” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes. Bio. Pool. You do not belong in this biopool.” “Look, I’m kind of new to this leaping from one place to another, and I just got jettisoned out of a nexus, and now I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.” Anazia looked past ...

She stopped moving. She stopped shaking, she stopped beeping, buzzing, and my sweat and blood froze in the cabin in front of me. Timeless. I was staring out at the nexus. The Endemon was perched at the edge of the creation of space. And, I found it, here, in the Kartegan sector. At least, I thought that was where I was. It, this nexus, was outside my window, shifting in and out of focus, an inflating and deflating balloon, a magician's scarf trick, a fractal explosion of kaleidoscopic color, one second blue, the next red and orange. It was crystalline, the sharp edges ripping through the surrounding blackness, tearing it like a knife and exposing me to the other side of the universe, then it was soft and tumbling on itself like the bubbles in a bathtub. It vacillated, varying in size so that I couldn't get a proper estimate of how large or small or far or close it was. I had to take measurements. I had to take readings. I shifted, rapidly moving my fingers over th...

Bleak, they told me. Cold, they said. That the stars don't look the way they do once you get off the ground. That the only truth I'll find is loneliness. When my ship has only enough room for me and equipment, loneliness comes with the title and deed. People, I mused, were always different in secret. Sometimes, the only person they feared was the person staring back at them in the mirror. I was lucky, I supposed, to be able to surround myself with good people.   I inhaled sharply through my nose, sniffed, and reached over to my notepad to scribble some notes about the passage of time in absolute zero, when the solar storms cease, and the dark matter matrix has been exploited for its holes. Here, even light is afraid. The Endemon , my vessel named for the first man to pull past light speed, hung in the Kartegan sector like a ripe plum seconds after falling. I quickly closed the window shield, and shook my head to refocus before I adjusted the nodes to scan f...