Hurricane Itkis
Sep. 30th, 2005 12:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
annaitkisУраганы, бушующие на юге нашей страны, докатились и до нашего тихого омута. Сегодня от ветра всякие палки с деревьев попадали, и мусор носился по улицам. А наш тинейджер сочинил одноименное произведение, которое собирается представить на рассмотрение университетским комиссиям. Мне смешно, мужу не очень. Мне кажется что всё передано очень точно. Муж утверждает что сильно преувеличено и что мы гораздо лучше. Вот сий шедевр.
Hurricane Itkis
“So, the graph is a parabola?”
“Yes. But don’t forget that the parabola is upside down if the x squared is negative.”
Ah, yes, a dutiful father teaching his daughter the mysteries of algebra. A relaxed sight, fit for any Disney movie. You can almost hear Frederick Chopin’s nocturne opus nine playing in the background. Do not be fooled by the apparent coziness of this scene. This is but the calm before the storm. Even now you can sense the tension rising, the sky darkening, the waters rising.
“C’mon, dad, you’ve already told me this, can’t we just move on to the next problem?”
“No, you can’t just memorize the formulas, you have to understand the principles behind the math.”
“Dad, please! I want to finish my homework before midnight! Can’t we go faster?”
“I said no! Now c’mon, try to figure it out. Why is the parabola upside down when the x squared is negative?”
“uchhh!.. We never go fast! We always have to spend an hour on every problem!”
The winds have met and begun their circular swirl. The catastrophe is now inevitable. The hurricane has begun!
Describing my family is not easy. My friends would probably describe us in one word: “Russian”. To my friends that description means that we speak with a funny accent and drink a lot of vodka. To me it means much more than that. It means an extra layer of stubbornness and an inclination for arguments. My family will pick a fight anywhere, anytime. The topics of our arguments range from college applications to what hotel we stayed at on our last vacation. The content of the arguments, however, is not important. The arguments serve their own purpose. Like a hurricane, they are self-containing and cannot be destroyed until they wear themselves out.
An argument usually begins when a family member gets annoyed. This annoyance does not have to be the deep annoyance one feels when kicked in the groin by a feisty seven year old. It can be the slight annoyance one feels upon finding a hair in their soup.
“You forgot to take the garbage out again.”
“Well, you forgot to remind me. I was tired and busy last night, and it slipped my mind.”
“I shouldn’t have to remind you. It’s your job to take out the garbage each week.”
“And it’s your job to remind me.”
“Why do you always have to be reminded to do your job? You never do anything unless someone tells you to.”
One of the interesting qualities of my family’s arguments is that they almost never stick to details. The argument begins with a specific complaint, but within a minute it spirals down into a stream of general accusations about the other family member’s life style, friends, habits, and anything else the arguers can come up with. Rhetorical questions such as “Can’t you ever take me seriously?!” and “Why can’t you ever just accept criticism?!” are commonly used. Once the argument reaches that stage, a compromise is impossible and the two sides are locked in a steel cage battle to the finish. There is almost never a consensus at the conclusion of the argument, just an end. The family members have had their stab at each other, let off some steam, and just separate naturally without ever agreeing.
The danger is by no means over once the argument has subsided. Even after the hurricane moves on, there is a risk of flooding and storms. It often takes a while for the waters to fully settle. I have known my family members to suddenly resume yelling after as much as half an hour of silence. If the argument was a category four or five – more personal and pointed, the parties involved may be sore at each other for a day or two. In the end, however, life goes back to normal. The hurricane has passed; the argument is over.
Avoiding these arguments is very tough. Because of their spontaneous nature, one cannot predict when an argument will strike. The best strategy is to avoid high-risk situations, such as dinner table conversations, and dangerous topics, such as grades. The very best way of avoiding an argument is by staying in your own room the entire day without any communication with the rest of the family. Even this strategy, however, has its flaws. The mother of the household might walk in to offer you some lunch. Of course she will not leave until she has thoroughly commented on the disgraceful state of your room, a process which may take as long as an hour. The bottom line is that there is no foolproof plan for avoiding these arguments without becoming a hermit or moving out of the house (which I did for a year in ninth grade. Did me lots of good). The best advice I can give is to try to live and act normally, and just weather the occasional storm.
Ну, и куда его возьмут после этого? И что сделают с нами? Для полноты картины добавлю что беседа про параболы происходила пару лет назад когда ребёнка была в пятом классе.
Hurricane Itkis
“So, the graph is a parabola?”
“Yes. But don’t forget that the parabola is upside down if the x squared is negative.”
Ah, yes, a dutiful father teaching his daughter the mysteries of algebra. A relaxed sight, fit for any Disney movie. You can almost hear Frederick Chopin’s nocturne opus nine playing in the background. Do not be fooled by the apparent coziness of this scene. This is but the calm before the storm. Even now you can sense the tension rising, the sky darkening, the waters rising.
“C’mon, dad, you’ve already told me this, can’t we just move on to the next problem?”
“No, you can’t just memorize the formulas, you have to understand the principles behind the math.”
“Dad, please! I want to finish my homework before midnight! Can’t we go faster?”
“I said no! Now c’mon, try to figure it out. Why is the parabola upside down when the x squared is negative?”
“uchhh!.. We never go fast! We always have to spend an hour on every problem!”
The winds have met and begun their circular swirl. The catastrophe is now inevitable. The hurricane has begun!
Describing my family is not easy. My friends would probably describe us in one word: “Russian”. To my friends that description means that we speak with a funny accent and drink a lot of vodka. To me it means much more than that. It means an extra layer of stubbornness and an inclination for arguments. My family will pick a fight anywhere, anytime. The topics of our arguments range from college applications to what hotel we stayed at on our last vacation. The content of the arguments, however, is not important. The arguments serve their own purpose. Like a hurricane, they are self-containing and cannot be destroyed until they wear themselves out.
An argument usually begins when a family member gets annoyed. This annoyance does not have to be the deep annoyance one feels when kicked in the groin by a feisty seven year old. It can be the slight annoyance one feels upon finding a hair in their soup.
“You forgot to take the garbage out again.”
“Well, you forgot to remind me. I was tired and busy last night, and it slipped my mind.”
“I shouldn’t have to remind you. It’s your job to take out the garbage each week.”
“And it’s your job to remind me.”
“Why do you always have to be reminded to do your job? You never do anything unless someone tells you to.”
One of the interesting qualities of my family’s arguments is that they almost never stick to details. The argument begins with a specific complaint, but within a minute it spirals down into a stream of general accusations about the other family member’s life style, friends, habits, and anything else the arguers can come up with. Rhetorical questions such as “Can’t you ever take me seriously?!” and “Why can’t you ever just accept criticism?!” are commonly used. Once the argument reaches that stage, a compromise is impossible and the two sides are locked in a steel cage battle to the finish. There is almost never a consensus at the conclusion of the argument, just an end. The family members have had their stab at each other, let off some steam, and just separate naturally without ever agreeing.
The danger is by no means over once the argument has subsided. Even after the hurricane moves on, there is a risk of flooding and storms. It often takes a while for the waters to fully settle. I have known my family members to suddenly resume yelling after as much as half an hour of silence. If the argument was a category four or five – more personal and pointed, the parties involved may be sore at each other for a day or two. In the end, however, life goes back to normal. The hurricane has passed; the argument is over.
Avoiding these arguments is very tough. Because of their spontaneous nature, one cannot predict when an argument will strike. The best strategy is to avoid high-risk situations, such as dinner table conversations, and dangerous topics, such as grades. The very best way of avoiding an argument is by staying in your own room the entire day without any communication with the rest of the family. Even this strategy, however, has its flaws. The mother of the household might walk in to offer you some lunch. Of course she will not leave until she has thoroughly commented on the disgraceful state of your room, a process which may take as long as an hour. The bottom line is that there is no foolproof plan for avoiding these arguments without becoming a hermit or moving out of the house (which I did for a year in ninth grade. Did me lots of good). The best advice I can give is to try to live and act normally, and just weather the occasional storm.
Ну, и куда его возьмут после этого? И что сделают с нами? Для полноты картины добавлю что беседа про параболы происходила пару лет назад когда ребёнка была в пятом классе.
