TH E CATCHER CU LT
So that’s how the school year began, with Easter Monday fading into Baby Batter. I like to think of those first few weeks as the Baby Batter Weeks. Nothing much happened—or rather, quite a lot of stuff was happening, as it turns out, but I wouldn’t find out about any of it till later. So for me, the Baby Batter Weeks were characterized by a false sense of—
well, not security. More like familiarity or monotony. The familiar monotony of standard, generic High School Hell, which somehow manages to be horrifying and tedious at the same time. We attended our inane, pointless classes, in between which we did our best to dodge random attempts on 10
our lives and dignity by our psychopathic social superiors.
After school, we worked on our band, played games, and watched TV. Just like the previous year. There was no indication that anything would be any different.
Now, when I say our classes were inane and pointless, I really mean i. and p., and in the fullest sense. Actually, you know what? Before I continue, I should probably explain a few things about Hillmont High School, because your school might be different.
Hillmont is hard socially, but the “education” part is shockingly easy. That goes by the official name of Academics.
It is mystifying how they manage to say that with a straight face, because as a school, HHS is more or less a joke. Which can’t be entirely accidental. I guess they want to tone down the content so that no one gets too good at any particular thing, so as not to make anyone else look bad.
Assignments typically involve copying a page or two from some book or other. Sometimes you have a “research paper,” which means that the book you copy out of is the
Okay, so that part isn’t easy for me. I don’t like to talk much.
But you do get some credit for being quiet and nondisruptive, and my papers are usually neat enough that the teacher will write something like “Good format!” on them.
It is possible, however, to avoid this sort of class alto-gether by getting into Advanced Placement classes.
(Technically, “Advanced Placement” refers to classes for which it is claimed you can receive “college credit”— which is beyond hilarious—but in practice all the nonbonehead classes 11
end up getting called AP.) AP is like a different world. You don’t have to do anything at all, not a single blessed thing but show up, and you always get an A no matter what. Well, you end up making a lot of collages, and dressing in costumes and putting on irritating little skits, but that’s about it. Plus, they invented a whole new imaginary grade, which they still call an A, but which counts as more than an A from a regular class. What a racket.
This is the one place in the high school multi-verse where eccentricity can be an asset. The AP teachers survey the class through their
Oh, wait: I should mention that
The main guy is a kind of misfit kid superhero named Holden Caulfield. For teachers, he is the ultimate guy, a real dream-boat. They love him to pieces. They all want to have sex with him, and with the book’s author, too, and they’d probably even try to do it with the book itself if they could figure out a way to go about it. It changed their lives when they were young. As kids, they carried it with them everywhere they went. They solemnly resolved that, when they grew up, they would dedicate their lives to spreading The Word.
It’s kind of like a cult.
They live for making you read it. When you do read it you can feel them all standing behind you in a semicircle wearing black robes with hoods, holding candles. They’re chanting “Holden, Holden, Holden . . .” And they’re looking over your shoulder with these expectant smiles, wishing they were the ones discovering the earth-shattering joys of
Too late, man. I mean, I’ve been around the
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Good luck avoiding it, though. If you can make it to pu-berty without already having become a
So the AP teachers examine the class through their
Everybody wins, though, really, in AP Land.
But watch out. When all the little Holdens leave the building, it’s open season again. Those who can’t shed or disguise their
“Did you get in any APs?” Sam Hellerman had asked on the way to school that first day. He hadn’t gotten in any APs.
Whether or not you end up in AP is mostly a matter of luck, though the right kind of sucking up can increase your odds a bit. So considering that I put zero effort into it, I didn’t do too badly in the AP lottery. I got into AP social studies and French; that left me with regular English and math; and I also had PE and band. “Advanced”