The Travails of being a Hero

I love comic books. If you don’t believe me, ask my Mum what happened the time she screwed up a Superman comic I was reading when I was supposed to be doing something less interesting (listening to her). Anyway, if you know me you are already aware of my comic love. If you don’t really know me but you’ve seen even like a photo of me you know this. My lips are almost permanently fixed in the “p-shew”

configuration as I pretend to fly to wherever I’m going. 

I would estimate that in my lifetime I have spent approximately six billion dollars on comic books.

I tell you this to establish just how mad I am for comics because I am about to ask you to consider how bad a game based entirely on comics would have to be for me to dislike it. I’m talking about DC Universe Online, a game seemingly made by people who love comics for people who hate comics. This seems like a strange conceptual angle and you could be forgiven for naively assuming that the crime against humanity that is DCUO might just be some kind of terrible misstep. But DCUO is so bad it can’t be a matter of simple error. This game is worse than the idea that when Superman’s home planet exploded and killed the entire populace a dog survived. A dog.

"Arf?" Real good survival skills.

 This game is the bad ideas equivalent of that dog. If all other bad ideas were ‘sploded into space, this game would stick around out of sheer bloody-minded annoyingness. Such horror cannot go unpunished. Someone fire up the bat signal!

Ben McDonough in the house again. 

We need the Batman’s assistance to put an end to this debacle. For every dreadful flaw displayed by DCUO, Batman will deliver one of his trademark staggering haymaker punches. It’s proven comic book science that nobody can stand up to any more than five punches from the Dark Knight. I think Batman even punched out a Tyrannosaurus Rex one time. He keeps it in the Batcave specifically so that Superman knows what time it is. So let’s see how long DCUO survives.

ROUND 1 – Buying the Game

So you’ve decided you want to buy DC Universe Online? That’s great! Before we go any further, here’s a thank you message from this year’s winner of the spastic thalidomide game design scholarship.

Buuuuuhh.

You’re helping to make their dreams come true. Of course, you know that paying $100 for that disc only entitles you to play the game for one month, right? Beyond that you need to pay a monthly subscription fee. In $NZ it’s about 30 bucks, the same amount of money you could use to buy an African kid (who could programme me a better game).

Luckily that original month’s access is about 29 days more than you need to play DCUO… and I got the game in February.

Punch!

ROUND 2 – Installing the Game

Worst alibi of all time: “What were you doing between the hours of 8:00 and 10:30 February the 1^st?”

“Watching DC Universe Online install, Officer.”

“That whole time?”

“Fucking… yes.”

“So you didn’t murder anyone.”

“No. I wanted to. But no.”

Install/load screens are never a good thing, but there are things you can do to make them more bearable. A static image of Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman and Lex Luthor’s asses looking at a bunch of monitors like a goddamn superhero neighbourhood watch is not one of them. Seriously, that one picture spent so much time on my television that it was legally granted squatter’s rights.

"Batman hates squatters!"

ROUND 3 – TIME TO GET STARTED! OH… WAIT. NO IT’S NOT…

Because DCUO is a Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game (MMORPG in nerd shorthand) it’s expected that you’ll play with other people. Even though other people generally suck, this isn’t quite enough to justify a Batpunch, because it was the reason I bought the game myself. As I had next to no experience with MMORPGs, I figured one based on my secret dreams would be a good place to start. So my ichiban tomodachi Japan-living friend and I both ordered copies online. Here’s where it gets tricky.

We live in Japan.

We bought American copies of the game.

I have a New Zealand playstation account.

My friend has a UK playstation account.

This could go one of two ways: it could be a recipe for glorious internationalisation or, as the popular parlance goes, a ‘clusterfuck’. Care to hazard a guess?

DC’s premier superteam is the JLA – the Justice League of America. Do you know what they don’t have in the JLA? New Zealanders. Also Brits. Turns out the game disc is just as racist as the JLA, forcing us to create fraudulent American playstation network accounts just to play a game that clearly hates us and our descendants.

"Are you an American breed? Or a terrorist?!"

ROUND 4 – TIME TO GET STARTED FOR REAL!

Once all that bullshit is over with, it’s time to actually do some gaming on what has up until this point been a spiteful three-figure paperweight. DCUO opens with a sweet cinematic that depicts all kinds of famous DC super-powered folk getting shot, stabbed or just punched to death. The movie ends with Lex Luthor realising that some of these corpses will be needed to repel an alien invasion, so he (fairly flippantly, I must say) travels back in time to prevent it from happening.

I’m not even being sarcastic, this movie is the best part of the game. It’s like the game’s makers realise that you’re only hanging on by a thread at this point. If they had then rolled the end credits and said ‘thanks for playing’ I would have felt less ripped off than I do having played the hours of dross that follow. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Time travel back to the point!

The time travel plot is a canny move, because it became my only incentive to play on, trying to get back to the point where everyone gets horribly murdered again.

No punching?!?

ROUND 5 – MAKE ME A HERO

So you own the copyrights to let’s just say half of the world’s most recognisable superheroes and you’ve made a video game where players assume the role of a superhero. The first thing you have to do is crush the spirits of the vast majority of fans and lock out the ability to play as the Batman. I can understand that, otherwise you’ve got 28,000 Batmans running around, 21,500 Supermans and 1 Aquaman.

Awww...

Instead, in DCUO you can choose a costume “inspired” by the hero or villain that you wish they would just let you play. So if you favour Batman you will get something dark and creepy and invariably end up looking like some kind of gimp. If you prefer Wonder Woman, your costume will only cover half of each ass cheek. And so on. For some reason you can’t be inspired by Power Girl, even though she is an inspiration to everyone.

She has a 'prominent' role in in-game loading screens.

Hilariously, this method just meant that I saw a lot of ‘Spiderguy’ and ‘Wolver1ne’ characters running around the game world.

For my character I decided that I would take my inspiration from Batman’s inspiration. I would go a level deeper. As retold countless times in Batman’s origin story the young Bruce Wayne was terrified by bats when he accidentally fell into what would later become the vaunted Batcave.

But what if that formative experience had come in the form of the Momonga (or Japanese Dwarf Flying Squirrel)?

This little bastard has rabies, Ebola, animal AIDs and incurable diarrhoea. And it smells your fear.

Thus the Spangled Momonga (TM BigMrJosh) was born! With a two-tone brown & cream costume that mimicked the admittedly average colouration of the momonga and vicious knives attached to each forearm to mimic the tiny (but deadly teeth) of the dread momonga, I was ready to begin my superhero career.

ROUND 6 – THE NEVER-ENDING BATTLE TO ROUND A CORNER.

DC spared no expense when it came to giving us the true superhero experience. But they did adhere to a pretty strict rule of threes. For example, there are only three possible missions in DCUO. I list them here in order of frequency.

1) Punch a certain number of identical guys in the face until they die.

2) Collect a certain number of a certain item that drops out of the corpses of the guy you just punched to death.

3) Pick up something huge and put it in a specific corner.

You also have three ways of traveling to this bland, uninspired missions.

1) Flying in straight lines.

2) Running super fast in straight lines. And up buildings!

3) Clambering around like a monkey.

Obviously I chose the monkey option. That's how I'm livin'. This proved to be the final straw for DCUO. It turned out my ability to clamber up buildings was also my greatest weakness, because any time I tried to round a corner, The Spangled Momonga (still TM, I just haven't decided what direction I want to take the property yet.) would cling to the wall for dear life. So there I am, suspended literally centimetres from the mean streets of Gotham City, usually being shot at. 

The Final Indignity!

To sum up, in the words of my esteemed British colleague in terrible crime-fighting: "You could have more fun taping a comic to the wall and yelling at it from across the room." That sounds therapeutic. I'm gonna try it with the DCUO game disc.

Goddamn you, DC Universe Online. YOU BROKE MY HEART!

BigMrJosh's Guide to being an Outstanding Relief Teacher

If you’re a teacher, you’re probably used to using the internet to find helpful websites that tell you the important parts of a speech or how to teach fractions or why Trinidad and Tobago has two names. (I suggest the classy blend of Trinibago).

But what about those teachers who are thinking of stepping back from the teacher rat race of reports, meetings, using the internet and generally being responsible for children’s learning? What about those teachers who want to become relievers? Where are the helpful websites for them?

Actually, those sites are available too. This one seems pretty reasonable. This lady has some great practical ideas for relieving equipment. Then there’s this one, who thinks a good reliever is someone who tidies the teacher’s desk for them. But none of these sites really tell it like it is. Even google doesn’t understand, because I did a search for ‘good relief teacher’ and all I could find was pictures of happy children. That’s not what relief teaching is about.

 I’m going to write all those sites a cheque, and I’m going to make it out to ‘reality’, because I would hate to think that all that I have learnt in the last 3 terms could go to waste.

Bask in my wisdom!

Be the Boss

I have heard that in prison (I have never been to prison. Generally, prison and working with children don’t mix) the first day you arrive you should identify the biggest toughest guy (or, you know, lesbian, if it’s a womens prison) in the whole joint. Then you should file your toothbrush down to a fine point and stab them in the exercise yard. This analogy is as good a starting place as any when you are a reliever.

A good reliever will look like this.

A good reliever will develop almost a radar sense that lets them know which children are going to make you want to pull your hair or their hair out. The first thing you must then do is catch that kid being sufficiently bad that you can justify making an example of them. If that means you have to plant marijuana in their pencil case then I’m sure nobody would hold that against you. Once you have thrown out the ringleader, the rest of the class is in the palm of your hands for at least 13 minutes. Then you’ll probably have to throw another kid out. Actually, if you can stick to that pace you will end the day with a class of 4 and they will all be girls who just want to read books about horses or impress you with their acrostic poetry about how cool you are.

Remuneration

Instead of using money, the government likes to pay teachers with the satisfaction of a job well done and a side serving of telling the entire profession that they could be doing better. (You know, you teachers could also be feeding and clothing these kids and maintaining their emotional security, while you’re at it.)

So why do teachers do all this? I don’t remember, because being a reliever has destroyed my brain’s ability to remember good times. But there’s some good news! You will get paid better than a regular classroom teacher.  That’s because you don’t get any holiday pay and there is a chance that on a given day no local teacher will require a mental health recharge, so there is some uncertainty about your income. Certainty of income is for wage slaves and sissies; relievers learn how to hunt and kill their own meals during those lean times like the start of term and long weekends.

Attitude to Children

I’ve already discussed how teachers get to do everything short of wiping a kid’s butt for a mid-level salary. Why do teachers do this? I asked my wife who, against all odds, cares about children still. She told me it’s because they actually care about children and want to ensure they don’t all suck at everything they do. There’s also some stuff about the look of joy on kids’ faces when they master a new piece of learning.( I personally think that’s a myth. I’ve never seen that.)

It’s tricky, though, because when you make the move to reliever you need to do the exact opposite. That look of joy thing, you still get that as a reliever. But it’s more like the look of joy that you would see on the face of a child who has just been given a piñata in the shape of a teacher. As far as they are concerned, you are their bitch for the day. In Star Wars, the Jedi are generally friendly chaps who do the right thing and ask themselves WWYD (What Would Yoda Do). Then Darth Vader comes along. He was a Jedi, but then he spent a day as a relieving teacher and turned to the Dark Side.

KEESH. Turn to page 17, children. KEESH. You! Zip it! KEESH.

The point I’m trying to make here is that relieving teachers are the dark side of teaching. We have to not care about children. That’s our job. Kids can smell caring, and it makes them savage. Plus, how can you care about kids whose names you don’t even know? That’s why I usually refer to kids as ‘blue t-shirt’ or ‘Spongebob’ or ‘Elf-ears’ or ‘Gingivitis’. Really any distinguishing feature is fair game.

Hours

When you meet a teacher, you may be inclined to say, “Wow, I bet you love working 6 hours a day and being on holiday all the time!”  My stock response to that aspersion when I was a regular teacher was, “Wow, you must love getting punched in the face!”

However, as a reliever I get to perpetuate this myth by actually leaving when the kids do! What I like to do is have them pack everything up a little bit early, then race them out the gate when the bell goes. My record so far is leaving 6 minutes before the bell that marks the end the day.

I should also mention that relievers get to have all those fancy holidays everyone talks about, but since you don’t get paid to take them are they really holidays? I just call them being unemployed.

Punishment

Inevitably you will have to deal with misbehaving children as a relief teacher. Personally, I like to take it back to the old school. After all, I’m usually the only male teacher half of the kids I get will have before high school, so I might as well also be the only teacher who hands out draconian punishments the likes of which they will never see again.

Here are a smattering of my favourites.

Ironic Lines

The teacher writes this on the board:

God, I hate writing lines. Why do I do this to myself. Every. Single. Time? The teacher said quite clearly to stop throwing that pencil around, and what did I do? Damn it. I feel such a sense of remorse and failure right now...

Copy anywhere from 1-20,000 times, depending on how much caffeine you’ve had. When they hand them to you upon completion, make sure to scrutinize them carefully for exactly one second before savagely screwing them into a paper ball and tossing their agonising work straight into the paper bin.

Sit Outside

Always put them by a window where you can see them. This one works best when it’s lightly raining. I do give the kid a chair though. I’m not a monster.

Dictionary Time!

The dictionary is such a rich and versatile source of punishment. Try all of these and pick your favourite.

Tell S to start at a word like ‘nuisance’ or ‘disruption’ or some other such significant word and keep copying until you tell them to stop. This has the bonus of improving their vocabulary.

Give them a page number (I like page 56) and tell them to write all the digraphs. If, like me you don’t know what a digraph is, that just makes it more interesting.

Give them a list of words that epitomise their behaviour and tell them to find their page numbers in the dictionary. Then get them to write a story using all of those words correctly, on pain of death.

Student Archetypes

There are some common elements in most classrooms, and early recognition is the key to prevention. Memorise this information, lest you meet these students one dark day.

The Chair Chucker – As a relief teacher you will need to be adept at defusing tense situations. A staple in New Zealand schools is the chair chucker. I suggest this course of action for dealing with them.

S: (chucks a chair.)

T: I see you are good at chucking chairs. But catching is really key, because I’m good at chucking chairs too. How are you at catching chairs?

Nameless Student – Ever been unsure of a student’s name, but you're pretty sure it’s not Justin Bieber, like they keep telling you? I will call a child whatever name they give me for the entire day, even when the novelty has worn off for them. I will try to work a sneer in with it each time though.

Even better is when two kids decide to swap names for a day. This makes them feel invincible. This doesn’t bother me either, because I will call James - whose real name is Luke – James for the whole day. And if James should incense me enough to get his name on the detention list, imagine how Luke - whose real name is James – will feel when I pass that name onto the teacher? They have unwittingly shackled themselves together chain gang style!

The Helper – Almost every class has that one student who knows in their heart that you are a gibbering moron and that their teacher would never rely on you alone to run their class. They will correct you on every nuance of the daily programme that you have missed.

It will start something like this:

T: Nicola. Is Nicola here?

The Helper: Nicola usually comes late.

T: I don’t care.

Helper: When Miss is here she waits for a few minutes, and then marks the roll again when Nicola arrives. And it’s Ni-CO-la, not NI-cola.

T: Right, so today we are going to do some maths and some writing and some other cool stuff. (Sees helper with hand desperately reaching for the sky.) Sigh. Yes?

Helper: You forgot to change today’s helper name on the board.

T: I will kill you.

As you will see in the above example, there is only one course of action when dealing with the helper. You must do the exact opposite of whatever they suggest. Eventually they will recognise the futility of their actions.

The Stupid Kid – This is the kid sitting in the corner trying to use their left nostril as a pencil sharpener and their right nostril for a gold mine. Then realising they can't breathe. If this kid is in your class all year they are a constant source of anguish and bemusing horror for their teacher. But for a reliever the stupid kid just provides a day of light-hearted slapstick hilarity. Enjoy!

Questions and Answers

Here I will provide some typical questions that you will be asked as a reliever and some possible answers you may want to use.  Please note that not all of these questions are questions and not all of these answers are appropriate. In this section, S stands for student and T stands for teacher, and if you were unable to crack that code without reading this bit then you need to be working in the fine professions of chemical testing or medical science. As a test case.

S: This is booooooring.

T1: You know what’s boring? Your face.

T2: I’m sorry, your teacher actually arranged for a clown to come and entertain you, but I assassinated him and took his place.

T3: Can you even spell boring? Good, find it in the dictionary and write out the definition 80 times, once for every decibel of annoying you just fired into my ear holes.

S: Where’s ooooour teacheeeeeer?

T1: Passed out blind drunk on the couch if your behaviour today is any indication.
T2:The Principal received a phone call from your teacher this morning that consisted of four minutes  of screaming before the line went dead. Then they called me.

S: Annoying student stole my rubber/pencil/thunder/lunch/soul/rugby cards/mojo/ruler!

T1: And?

T2: I would break their jaw. But you probably shouldn’t.

T3: Your class stole the pigmentation from my hair. Do you see me complaining?

S: Our teacher aaaaalways lets us do this.

T1: If I did everything your teacher did I wouldn’t be here right now and would subsequently be much  

happier.

T2: Either your teacher is an idiot or you think I am an idiot. Which is it? By the way, if you tell me your

teacher is an idiot I am lawfully bound to report it to the Principal. If you tell me I am an idiot. Well... we’ll see what happens, won’t we. Go.