There lies a legend within the English corridor closest to the hall. Who really, and I mean really,knows the history of Mr Hodson.
I have a theory his birth lies within a deep old library, perhaps Oxford? One day, an accident sent all the books tumbling off their shelves into one massive pile, and from that pile, Mr Hodson was born.
Fully formed at birth, and with knowledge already flowing through his brain, Mr Hodson set out to gain more. Travelling to distant shaman monasteries in Eastern Asia, and venturing to the depths of South America to find answers to the question…why am I here?
But alas, he could not find the answer. For every scroll, article and critical interpretation he read, he came no closer to filling the endless void of knowledge that was his full potential. What would he do with his life? He kept on moving through the years, until eventually winding up back at Oxford, where. upon gazing into a lecture hall, he marvelled at the eloquence and style of a lecturer in front of the class.
He knew what he would do, the reason for his birth and the purpose he had yearned for his entire life. To share the knowledge… He would need to learn more though, for though his knowledge of the world was finer than any man alive, people…they did confuse him. But he persisted, and took the course. Four years later he was ready, being cheered off the Oxford stage with his diploma in hand and ready to spread wisdom. But where would he start?
This is where the story gets blurry, for no one knows where he went after this. Yet one day…he reappeared! Spying a great clock tower in the distance, Mr Hodson knew that at last, he had found a place worthy of his knowledge. Stumbling into the headmasters office, miraculously well dressed after months in the wild, he applied for a job teaching English. The headmaster could do no more than simply nod his head wordlessly after Mr Hodson recited every word in the oxford dictionary (a few he added himself) and then cracked a wicked joke and showed off his dazzling white smile.
It was then, he found his home. For now, he was Mr Hodson (or sir.) Hamlet, Dracula, Macbeth, An Inspector Calls, Jekyll and Hyde, all allowing to wow and wonder his classes with a multitude of extended knowledge. Though many starred lifelessly, uncomprehending at his studious ways. He realised that perhaps, he was too smart for the school, and so needed to reduce his intensity on the younger years.
But the sixth form…a group of students who ambitiously chose A-Level English Literature were in for a year of explosive knowledge and intensive essays. Books become futile as only 25% of the marks are given to knowing the plot and themes. Instead, articles, journals, essays, interpretations, and…context *shudders*, filling up the English essays and being constantly reinforced by Mr Hodson’s extensive knowledge of the world. And though his guidance is hard and tough, no student can deny the inevitable improvement in technique and knowledge after just half a year of his teaching.
I have been studying Mr Hodson for almost two years now, and have been collecting data on his comings and goings, trying to untangle the ways of the Hod. His strange fascination and appreciation of wildly growing mushrooms, has caused many a sighting of him trekking through the woods in search of what could be his only sustenance.
His strange incentivisation with the bubble is something else I have been studying. The positive correlation between bubble views and energy levels has inspired me to believe that his life force is in fact tied directly to this website (so make sure to continue reading even after the Year 13s have left.) The songs he references seem to many to…not actually exist. Are we sure they are even real. Why does nobody every seem to recognise the songs he references??? Personally I believe they exist in another dimension, and we are simply not quite advanced enough to understand them.
And finally, I have discovered a malicious fling occurring between Mr Hodson…and the sanitizer spray in his classroom. Just the other day we caught him making ‘lascivious’ eyes at the sanitizer while it stared silently back at him. He held its gaze for upwards of five seconds, to the amazement and befuddlement of the class, before finally getting back to the lesson.
I have frequented a many school, and yet I have never met a teacher as passionate or knowledgeable about their subject. And as someone who has gone from a D to an A in my English essays, I can fully attest that his teaching style is unparalleled. I think we would all be lucky to have Mr Hodson as an English teacher, and we are all incredibly grateful for him as a bubble article. THANK YOU MR HODSON!!!