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Michael S. Parker
 * [[image:http://www.jonesnc.net/18882011211473350/lib/18882011211473350/Parker,_Michael.JPG width="300" height="375" caption="Mr. Michael Parker"]] || Name:

Room Number: 109

Subjects: English I-III, AVID, and SAT Prep

Planning Period: 1:40 - 3:15

Contact me: michael.parker@jonesnc.net 252-448-2451 ext. 253 ||
 * Thirty years ago on a fateful Thursday afternoon, the earth brought forth a new style of hero. Perspicacious and assiduous, armed with knowledge rooted in languages that have passed into the clearing, our evanescent hero moves through worlds of context and symbolism collecting droplets of wisdom, returning to this plane to water the flower of intellect so that it blooms with multiple levels of reason.

= =   'Twas brilling, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogroves, And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jub Jub bird, and shun the frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand: Long time the manxome foe he sought -- So rested he be the Tumtum tree, And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tugley wood, And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head He went galumphing back.

"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!" He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brilling, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogroves, And the mome raths outgrabe.

-Lewis Carroll ||