Then Jesus took His disciples up the mountain, and gathering them around Him, He taught them saying:

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are the meek.

Blessed are they that mourn.

Blessed are the merciful.

Blessed are the they who search for justice.

Blessed are you who suffer.

Be glad and rejoice, for your reward is great in heaven.

Remember what I am telling you."

Then Simon Peter said, "Do we have to write this down?"

And Andrew said, "Are we supposed to know this stuff?"

And James said, "Will we have a test on it?"

And Phillip said, "Can I borrow a pencil?"

And Bartholomew said, "Do we have to turn this in?"

And John said, "The other disciples didn't have to learn this!"

And Matthew said, "When do we get out of here?"

And Judas said, "What does this have to do with the real world?"

And the other disciples likewise.

Then one of the pharisees who were present asked to see Jesus' lesson plan and inquired of Jesus His terminal objectives in the cognitive domain.

And Jesus wept...

The Lesson is also a term in drinking circles that refers to particularly bad drinking episodes. They are in theory supposed to teach you about your limits, but most of the time they are just stories about drunken sots. Often The Lesson revolves around Tequila, or Mad Dog 20/20. Other notable lessons include:

  • Mixing types of alcohol
  • Keeping up with friends who are twice your size or serious booze hounds
  • Involuntarily being roped into helping a drunk friend.
  • Tequila (important enough to note in more than one place)
  • Drinking on an empty stomach
  • Not drinking enough water before passing out
  • Picking up person/persons of like/unlike sex while under the influence

These types of lessons are notable in that normally no one learns from them.

I sit on the little green stool by the stinky garbage. I hate this place, but I have to sit here 'cause I've been "bad". It smells here!

Go sit there and think about what you've done for a while!
That's what he said.

I ask," why?"

You know! Be quiet or I'll add more time!

So I sit here and wait. The lid's dirty. I take my sleeve and wipe at it to get the goo off.

You're supposed to be thinking!

I grab my hand back and sit straight up staring at the door. I carefully put my hands together in my lap so as not to get yelled at again. Hmmmm, thinking, thinking, thinking. My foot starts tapping to the song in my head. I stop it fast in case this is also wrong. The stench is offensive.

Have you learned your lesson?

"What am I supposed to be thinking about?", I whisper to him.


I don't KNOW what I did wrong! Why won't he tell me? I don't understand! Frustration is building. I make a face. I feel bad and don't know why.

I get the look, that glowering one.
More silence.

I know showing my mad face is wrong. I learned that last time I disagreed with him. He didn't tell me that but I had to sit here a loooooooooong time after my last mad face.

I put on my "no face" mask. I just have to wait it out. Yuck! It stinks! Thinking, thinking, thinking...

MY cot was down by a cypress grove,
And I sat by my window the whole night long,
And heard well up from the deep dark wood
A mocking-bird's passionate song.

And I thought of myself so sad and lone,
And my life's cold winter that knew no spring;
Of my mind so weary and sick and wild,
Of my heart too sad to sing.

But e'en as I listened the mock-bird's song,
A thought stole into my saddened heart,
And I said, "I can cheer some other soul
By a carol's simple art."

For oft from the darkness of hearts and lives
Come songs that brim with joy and light,
As out of the gloom of the cypress grove
The mocking-bird sings at night.

So I sang a lay for a brother's ear
In a strain to soothe his bleeding heart,
And he smiled at the sound of my voice and lyre,
Though mine was a feeble art.

But at his smile I smiled in turn,
And into my soul there came a ray:
In trying to soothe another's woes
Mine own had passed away.

-from Lyrics of Lowly Life, Paul Laurence Dunbar (1869)

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