When people talk about their time in high school, I’m all ears. The reason is there’s so much to learn about human nature from that formidable time in our lives.
I’m always digging deeper to understand what causes people to behave the way they do. For example, what causes people to be jealous or envious? And what are they capable of?
Way I see it. If we better understand human nature, it’d be harder for wicked narcissistic-types to get away with their lies and deceptions.
Also, we’d better identify faux confidence and projection. And see through those who’re manipulative and imagine themselves to be infallible and godlike. Because if their maneuvering succeeds, they’ll invariably wield their newfound power and control over you.
But back to high school. You’ll hear talk about how “Johnny” peaked in high school, but he’s a loser now. Or “Johnny thinks he’s still in HS…living out his glory days on the gridiron (back when he was throwing 4 touchdowns a game and dating the homecoming queen).”
Lucky for me. Like Jack Harlow, I didn’t peak in high school, I’m still out here gettin’ cuter. That’s what my mom said.
Ever since graduation, I’ve noticed people taking pride in not talking to any of their former high school classmates. And if you do, they might denigrate you for “living in the past.”
I see life in high school as an integral component of my continuous study of human nature—which I approach with a sense of poise and rationality.
At times, it feels like I’m on a never-ending quest to gain a better understanding of people. And I am. Primarily because knowledge of fellow humans aids in smoothing the path of what at times can be a bumpy walk through the world.
Life in High School
I attended high school in the Greater Houston Area, which was a blessing. Because it was a melting pot—we had every clique imaginable. And you could usually tell which clique someone belonged to by their music choice and how they dressed. Looked something like this:
- “Kickers” – listen to country music and wear Rockies & Red Wings
- “Grunge” – listen to Nirvana, wear Kurt Cobain tees and never wash their hair
- “Preps” – listen to Panic! At the Disco and wear khakis & polos tucked in
- “Jocks” – listen to whatever fires them up and wear letterman-jackets with patches down their arms
- “Cheerleaders & Drill Team” – listen to the same music as jocks and dress like there’d be no time to change clothes before practice
- “Gangster Dudes” – listen to rap but never get to a wear a cap & gown
- “Nguyen’s” – Gangnam Style? I don’t know, my subpar grades never allowed me to share a classroom or even see them (I went to a big school)
- “Band Nerds” – listened to music they created and must’ve had classes with the Nguyen’s
- “Theatre Kids” – no music – too busy practicing their lines, even at parties
I was having lunch with an old high school buddy last week. We were talking about how people don’t change much from how they were in high school.
That got me thinking.
The jocks and cheerleaders are the popular kids. They always win enough votes to be Homecoming King & Queen.
But what if these customary rituals got inverted. And the theatre kids, mostly girls & gays, figured out a sneaky way to rig the Homecoming vote to overthrow the popular kids.
What would that look like?
Sinister Plans
Oh, well imagine…
On a macro-scale, in America, the inversion (or subversion) might look something like this: The theatre kids using their skillset(s) to begin organizing theatre productions.
They could start in the Charlottesville wing of campus, staging a production using props like tiki torches.
It wouldn’t be an annual event. In fact, if done well they’d only need to do it once. Besides, theatre groups don’t like to use the same costumes and props twice.
Sure, the event might attract a few bad apples. But that’s what the theatre kids hope for, if they’re to accomplish their goals.
They could get their friends who work in school newspapers, TV/Film and choir, to amplify their message. Then if the current Homecoming King holds a press conference to denounce the show’s performers, they could take his words out of context and edit the video to make a “rupar.” And have their allies in TV/Film play the edited clip on a loop.
If enough students believed the show and its aftermath were “real,” it could serve as the impetus to run their favored candidate aka “The Big Guy” for Homecoming King and rule over the school.
For the theatre kids to have real power, their candidate would need to be a puppet. Someone feeble they could script lines for. And if he were questioned by the kids who run school newspapers and TV/Film, they could give the Big Guy cue cards to use with pre-selected questions & questioners.
Keeping their candidate scripted would ensure he doesn’t reveal his contempt for the student-body. Which he’d unfortunately done before. During one unscripted interview, he said that if African-American students didn’t vote for him, then “you ain’t black.”
That was bad enough, considering blacks comprise 14% of students. But what the theatre kids feared most was their candidate alienating half of students by calling them “garbage” or something similar.
Their plan could be to feed their guy lines to rehearse that would convey a theatre-like visual for students. This, they believed, would galvanize supporters, and hopefully garner new ones.
Lines fed to the Big Guy would go something like this: “When those folks came out of the fields carrying those tiki torches, chanting anti-Semitic bile and their VEINS BULGING…”
While their candidate repeated the “veins bulging” line over and over, the crazy kids could work on trying to oust the current Homecoming King through dramatic courtroom sessions.
But if they’re unable to get rid of the Homecoming King in court, theatre kids are clever—they could devise an elaborate plan for everyone to stay home from school. That way, their weak and unpopular candidate wouldn’t need to campaign.
If internal polling still showed their candidate to be unpopular, they could generate unrest among students—making sure mass protests were coordinated. Color-coordinated, in fact. Like a Colour revolution! They could wear black costumes and cover their faces.
If any kids in their drama classes objected to the plan because they thought the production would cause real damage and destruction on campus—they could explain the instability would be “mostly peaceful.” More importantly, the chaos would stop as soon as their candidate was installed.
If one of the theatre students asked whether these planned protests across campus conflicted with their grand plan of keeping everyone locked-down at home, she’d be told they could allow for exceptions—as long as mostly-peaceful protestors supported their cause. Additionally, the kids would be reminded that their team was empathetic and didn’t pretend to care deeply for minority students since freshman year for nuthin’.
If all that doesn’t work? They could change voting rules and try to manipulate the next class election.
If anyone complains, they could join forces with the “IT nerds,” labeling anyone who questions the election results as purveyors of “misinformation” and “disinformation.” Or simply “election-deniers.” If this plan were ineffective, they could convince the IT guys to completely silence the Homecoming King & his supporters.
“Solid plan,” one of the theatre kids might say, “But their candidate is a populist—I doubt we could silence him forever. What do we do if he runs for Homecoming King again?”
To which one of the meeting organizers might whisper, “Remember that loner kid from the rifle club who graduated last year?”
Audible gasps might fill the room. Then dead silence. That is, until one of the more religious kids speaks up: “Our plan sounds sinister!”
But organizers would scoff at him, “I don’t think you understand, ‘Bible-thumper!’ Haven’t you read Nietzsche? God is dead. Class politics is our religion now. We worship skin color and the environment.”
The planning would continue.
Then another kid in the meeting might say, “We need to be prepared for ‘election-denier’ protests. What’s our strategy there?”
“Actually, that’s something election-deniers are planning the day we certify election results. But we’ll know it’s coming and could put on the biggest theatre production the school’s ever seen!” he’d say.
This, too, might attract a few violent-types. But that would only help the cause. What matters most are optics.
“But how do we ensure success?” one kid might ask.
“We’ll plan to mix-in with the crowd wearing costumes that mimic the protesters’ attire. And use props like pipe bombs and gallows with a noose.”
“We could call it ‘Insurrection!'” one of the meeting organizers might suggest.
“Genius!” one kid might say with glee, “And sooo sinful! What next?”
“Afterward,” he’d be told, “We’d need Soviet-style show-trials to put election-deniers in detention.”
“Perfect plan!” the kid might say. “Dramas are what we do!”
Then another kid might chime in. “But what if half the student-body figures out we were compelled to do all this out of jealousy, envy, and an insatiable lust for power?”
“We have a plan for that too,” he’d be told. “In the waning hours of the Big Guy’s reign, we’ll have him sign last-minute pardons for everyone involved in our amazing theatre production.”
Anyway, I was probably a combination of “jock” & “prep” in high school. Now I write sins, not tragedies.
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