Stanley Sau
October 20, 2020
The near-100% acceptance rate that Honors Geometry boasts is the greatest representation of our school’s open mindedness and unprejudiced nature. Regardless of intelligence, students’ acceptance into Honors Geometry lies solely in the ability to crunch words into a half-coherent application letter in 8th grade, doubly insured by parents’ death threats issued in response to rejection.
However, this unbiased system appears to have a sinister hidden agenda: there are eight Honors Geometry classes as opposed to only two Calculus BC sections. The Ultimate Ineptitude Sieve, the Honors Math Weeding Initiative, the Anti-BC GPA bomber. Call it what you will, but they all refer to the same phenomenon—75% of students disappear along the way.
What, then, is the meaning behind this disappearance? Evidence points to a dubious selection process that initiates only the best into a cabal.
An anonymous member of the Student Society of Truth and Intrigue, a “student organization devoted to exposing shadowy plots within the community,” provided his own insight into such a hypothesis. “After an extensive amount of speculation and research, I concluded that the most likely explanation for this peculiar phenomenon is a surreptitious initiation process that nominates enlightened students to join the honorable ranks of the Illuminati,” he said. “Which, of course, means that Calc BC is merely a shadow operation that masks something disturbing.”
Indeed, it is not difficult to speculate that there is more to the system than mere stubborn prerequisites mandated by the Academic Handbook, for there appears to be no other incentive to eliminate students on the basis of grades alone.
“It’s an elegant system,” the student went on. “You don’t reject the fledgelings when they apply for Honors Geometry, because that would result in unhappy parents, admin headaches, and suspicion towards the math department, which would expose their master plan. Instead, teachers warp the consciousness of the unenlightened to the point where they mindlessly sort themselves out and drop out without any questions.”
The proposed conjecture has a variety of implications if it holds true in the end: first, our math department is actually a sub-branch of a secret society solely involved in the initiation of enlightened youth; second, that prospective Calc BC students are ultimately being selected as the to-be inheritors of future society, via a discreet process that involves the Academic Handbook and GPA as cover-ups. While seemingly far-fetched at surface value, the Society has shown that the plethora of evidence that exists more than justifies their suspicions after connecting the dots.
We further probed the question by inquiring about the ultimate fates of those who drop. “They’re called underperformers,” the student said. “No one cares about them once they drop—in fact, the majority are tossed into the pits of hell and devoured by Satan’s hound. It’s just maintenance, because you can’t have a perfect society by wasting your time on the sub-par.”
“The greatest giveaway of all is the tendency of math teachers to shoot me perplexed glances and laugh in my face when I confront them about their grand scheme and obvious ties with the Illuminati,” he said with a mysterious smile. “If that’s not fishy at all, then I don’t know what is.”
Comments