Fellatio, Meet Zaide.

I've never been bashful about complaining. In fourth grade, it was the spelling list. Our teacher made us spell rendezvous and a busload of other words with letters in them that shouldn't be pronounced. I wondered why fellatio wasn't part of the list. Some people insist "t" is pronounced as "th." Others believe "t" should sound like "sh." In my opinion, having to choose between "felatyo" and "felaysho" makes the word as interesting and study-worthy as rendezvous.

In first year high school, it was Zaide. My History teacher, Mr. Salinas, and I had humongous rows over the school's choice of prescribed History textbook. Why Zaide? Why? Why? I raged against Zaide's highly colored presentation of facts. "Zaide isn't narrating History; Zaide is writing an essay!"

Let it be put on record that Mr. Salinas is a pretty cool teacher. He was so cool, in fact, that most days, he simply laughed at my tirades and repeatedly challenged me to go discuss my concerns with the principal. One day, I did just that. I went to the principal and told her not only is Zaide destroying our ability to appreciate history, she is also encouraging us to freely rewrite facts to suit our storytelling methods. I also informed her it was Mr. Salinas who suggested I go see her. Mr. S was livid with rage. He turned the most ghastly shade of purple, and told me that since I found Zaide so reprehensible, I am most welcome to skip his class and spend my time in the library doing alternative schoolwork.

I no longer remember most of what transpired in the library, but I can still recall bonding with the librarian and reading Cornelius Ryan's books while munching on Japanese (yes, yes, those corn grits). The point of this long narrative, however, is not to make you go back in time and snivel at your own fond memories of high school. It is to point out that teachers ought to be more creative with their punishments. The end of my library detention didn't find me any more contrite or embarrassed. As a matter of fact, it made me develop the habit of visiting the principal so we could chat. Nuns are such lonely people.

Oh, and speaking of Zaide, I haven't changed my mind about his books; oh no, not one bit at all! I'll show you why. Gregorio and Sonia Zaide begin their  World History textbook with a highly creative take on the origin of humankind.

They ask, "Which is the true version of how life began – the story of creation or the theory of evolution?"

Then, they answer, "These two explanations on the origin of life are so different that it is not possible to reconcile them. That is why there are two different versions – and only one of them is true! The story of God’s creation of man is true, and we must believe in it because that is what the Bible says. The Darwinian idea that man evolved or developed from the ape is only a theory, not a positive scientific fact. It is full of gaps, especially with regards to the “missing link” between or the common ancestor of ape and man.”

And then, to cap off impressionable young minds' History meal, they add, "Towards the end of his life, Charles Darwin repented. He was asked what he wanted the world to remember and he answered: Tell them about Jesus Christ!”

Yes, friends and strangers, the Zaides defecated on your minds. At this point, only two courses of action would be the most appopriate:
1. Ask your high schools for a refund.
2. Stalk the Zaides online and when you find where they live, pelt their driveway with staplers, paperclips, and other office supplies.  Do this while you scream, "This one's for Darwin!"                  

Now, go mull over which action you feel like doing and while you're at it, don't forget to do Darwin's bidding. Tell them about Jesus Christ.