Remember That Scene From To Sir, With Love, Where the Bullying Gym Teacher Makes the Fat Kid Named Fatty or Fatso or Piggy Jump Over the Vaulting Horse…

…and some sort of ruckus ensues when one of the other punk students stand up against the gym teacher (or whatever the fooge they're called in England)? Good times, those were, mates.

Anyway, over at To the People, the invaluable blog about being lard-assed, lazy, and libertarian, the pseudonymous poster Cicero links to a story about new phederal phys-ed requirements and launches into a memorable, if ultimately Humbert-Humbertish, rant:

The war on fat is the new war on drugs. Just like schools suspend kids for bringing Tylenol and asthma medicine to school, they will soon be kicking them out for bringing Jolly Ranchers and candy bars. I was upset that my high school required four years of gym and only two years of math to graduate. Sadly, schools will soon be 50/50 exercise and education. And then probably 60/40. Sure American students will look better than foreign students, but we'll continue to lag behind them in math and science. Maybe it's just me, but I like my teenage girlfriends to be hot and smart.

Whole post here.

How To Avoid High School Gym Class in the USA, by the BBC.

Photo gallery from To Sir, With Love on a fan site that might be titled, To Sir, With Love From a Deranged Fan.

My favorite cinematic gym teacher? Probably the improbably high-knee-sock-wearing Betty Buckley in Carrie (alas, no pic easily available), who got what she deserved. What they all deserved. What we all (male, female, whatever) deserved--for wearing knee socks back in the day.