The Divine Audit of DD2

And Jesus wept.

He wasn’t just sad; he was exhausted. He sat before a celestial monitor, scrolling through a specific inbox, looking for a reply from the celebrated "Principal of the Year." He found none. He checked to see if a grieving father had been granted the mercy of an answer—or even a FOIA request fulfilled before the deadline rotted away. No such luck. He realized she must have dragged the email directly to the "Promoted to Silence" folder.

He watched the footage of the board meeting. He saw the father attempt to shine a light on the absurdity, to show the room that the Emperor had no clothes. Instead of being heard, the man wasn’t just ignored; he was actively silenced. Told to sit down. Treated like a disruption rather than a parent with a hole in his heart.

Needing to understand how a "Champion" could be crowned for ignoring a crisis, Jesus went for a walk through the cosmos to audit the universe’s management and try to get some different opinions.

First, he sought Ma’at, the Egyptian Goddess of Truth and Justice. She was kneeling by her scales, holding the Feather of Truth in one pan. "I tried to weigh this 'Principal of the Year' award against the 'October Cyberbullying' email," Ma'at said, frowning. "The scale broke. The silence of the administration is so heavy with negligence that it shattered the chain. You cannot balance a shiny trophy against a child’s unanswered cry for help. To call this 'Leadership' is to speak a language I do not recognize."

He moved on to Athena, Goddess of Wisdom and Strategy, who was reviewing the board’s meeting minutes with a look of severe distaste. "In Athens, we believed in logic," she said, slamming the folder shut. "To award the 'Highest Mark in the State' to a unit that refuses to acknowledge a suicide epidemic is not strategy. It is hubris. They silenced the father because his facts were inconvenient. Even the meeting minutes specifically minimize anything this father has said in the recent past.  They mistake the quiet of a suppressed room for peace. It is not peace. It is the tactical error of tyrants."

Needing a harsher perspective, Jesus found Shiva balancing several spinning galaxies. The Destroyer of Worlds paused to look at the DD2 livestream. "I am the Destroyer," Shiva remarked, his voice shaking the stars, "but even I find the destruction of a father's First Amendment rights a bit heavy-handed. They silenced him for mentioning a trophy and the facts surrounding its recipient? That isn't education; that is a gag order wrapped in a participation ribbon."

Jesus continued his trek, finding Joseph Smith sitting on a cloud, frantically polishing a pair of seer stones. "Hey, Joe," Jesus said. "The DD2 board seems to claim a mandate for safety while ignoring emails from grieving parents. Thoughts?" Smith didn't look up. "Look, I told people I found golden plates in a hill and translated them with a rock in a hat. It was a reach, but that’s what I was given and it started a movement. But even I wouldn't try to translate a Principal’s silence into a 'Principal of the Year' award. That isn't a miracle; that’s a con job, and the plates are made of lead."

While continuing His journey, the reality of the situation warped. The surroundings peeled back like rusted skin, and the Chief Cenobite emerged, his grid-patterned face glistening. He looked impressed. "The box... they opened it," Pinhead whispered, his voice a velvet rasp. "To watch a father stand before a board of elected officials, to see him silenced while he points at the very person who ignored his son—what exquisite suffering. I deal in the limits of pain, but to reward the 'Servant of Silence' with a trophy while the father is told to sit down like a dog? That is a hook in the soul even I hadn't devised. It is a masterpiece of cruelty."  Jesus remarked, “The physical pain and emotional pain aren’t considered the same in their world.”  Pinhead grinned, “So exquisite.”

Seeking to wash the darkness away, Jesus moved on to the astral plain and found Valentine Smith, the Man from Mars. He was perfectly still, "waiting is." "Do you grok this behavior, Michael?" Jesus asked. Valentine tilted his head. "I do not grok this selection. In my world, to lead is to cherish the water of the flock. To ignore the water is to cease to exist. These board members... they are 'wrong-ness.' They turn their backs on the Truth of the Child, yet the father bears the pain. I hope for their awakening, but I fear they have grokked only their own reflections."

Continuing to contemplate and wander, the cosmos dissolved into green falling code. The Architect appeared in a white chair, surrounded by a thousand screens. "The anomaly is systemic," he droned. "I have designed billions of versions of this reality. In none of them is it logical to give a 'highest mark' to a unit that fails to process basic input-output. It is a mathematical certainty that the administration is a fraud. The 'Champion Principal' is a glitch. I would rewrite the Dorchester District Two sector, but frankly, even my machines find their lack of empathy... inefficient."

Desperate for someone to explain the madness, Jesus sought the Father of madness ,Cthulhu, in the depths. The Great Old One stirred, tentacles shifting. "You called?" Cthulhu rumbled. "The school board thinks they can ignore a suicide epidemic by handing out awards to the administrators who oversaw the silence," Jesus explained. Cthulhu blinked a massive, watery eye. "Even I deal in madness, but this is too much. Rewarding the 'Servant of Silence' while the emails sit in the void? That is a level of cosmic horror I usually charge admission for."

As the absurdity peaked, a high-pitched voice rang out. Mr. Hankey, the Christmas Poo, emerged from a drain. "Howdy-ho!" he chirped. "I know a thing or two about being a piece of... well, you know. But even I wouldn't try to pass myself off as a 'Champion Principal' while leaving a bullying report unanswered for months. That’s some real 'Grade A' fertilizer! They’re gaslighting the entire community and calling it Pâté!"

Finally, the Flying Spaghetti Monster drifted down, his noodly appendages trembling with indignation. "Dude!" the Noodly One exclaimed. "Did you see that? The man stands up to speak for his son, to point out the fraudulence, and they tell him to sit down?! They are giving the highest honors to the people who hit 'delete' on a crisis! They are literally celebrating the silence. I hope they at least got a chuckle out of the absurdity of the guy sitting like a dog when she barked at him."

Jesus clenched his fists, looking toward Summerville. "I know," he whispered. "It’s the most transparently opaque thing I’ve ever seen."

The Spaghetti Monster patted Jesus on the shoulder with a starchy limb. "Did you see when they called the Dad a bully? It is the most painfully backwards thinking I have ever witnessed. At least my Pastafarians have the decency to admit their heads are made of dough. These board members act like they are the smartest people in the room, all while hiding behind a Galatians verse to justify ignoring the suffering of the flock."

Jesus sighed, turning back to the empty inbox. "They quote the scripture," he said softly, "but they forgot the part about the truth setting you free."

This is the printed meme I held up at the board meeting back in December when I told them they should just resign.