Junot Díaz - The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao (excerpt 15) lyrics

Had Don Bosco, since last we visited, been miraculously transformed by the spirit of Christian brotherhood? Had the eternal benevolence of the Lord cleansed the students of their vile? Negro, please. Certainly the school struck Oscar as smaller now, and the older brothers all seemed to have acquired the Innsmouth “look” in the past five years, and there were a grip more kids of color – but some things (like white supremacy and people-of-color self-hate) never change: the same charge of gleeful sadism that he remembered from his youth still electrified the halls. And if he'd thought Don Bosco had been the moronic inferno when he was young – try now that he was older and teaching English and history. Jesu Santa Maria. A nightmare. He wasn't great at teaching. His heart wasn't in it, and boys of all grades and dispositions sh**ted on him effusively. Students laughed when they spotted him in the halls. Pretended to hid their sandwiches. Asked in the middle of lectures if he ever got laid, and no matter how he responded they guffawed mercilessly. The students, he knew, laughed as much at his embarra**ment as at the image they had of him crushing down on some hapless girl. They drew cartoons of said crushings, and Oscar found these on the floor after cla**, complete with dialogue bubbles. No, Mr. Oscar, no! How demoralizing was that? Every day he watched the “cool” kids torture the crap out of the fat, the ugly, the smart, the poor, the dark, the black, the unpopular, the Africa, the Indian, the Arab, the immigrant, the strange, the feminino, the gay – and in every one of these clashes he saw himself (264).