BASIS Independent Silicon Valley: Education at its Finest

(Note: the opinions expressed in this article do not reflect the opinions of the Quill, 

nor do they necessarily reflect the opinions of the author)

As many of you may know, BASISIndependent Silicon Valley (BISV for short) is one of the greatest institutions ever created by mankind. With its vast concrete halls, its awe-inspiring and excellently crafted mascot, and of course its finely-crafted curriculum, able to challenge and elevate a wide variety of students, it has been rightfully lauded by some as perhaps the single best thing to ever happen to anybody, anywhere. Let’s go over how and why BISV keeps up such a momentous standard of education.

From the outside, the building may seem underwhelming. A large, grey, ambiguously-shaped stone, covered on all sides by strange reflective panels. However, it is here that BISV shines where other chunks of stone remain dull and useless. The crucial innovation, of course, is that the insides of the rock are carved out, creating so-called “rooms.” These rooms, which are practically invisible from the outside, often startle newcomers, who fully expect to live, breathe, and eat the porous concrete of BISV during their stay. Now, while some might expect the daily trip between these rooms to involve a copious amount of tunneling, it is here that the designers of BISV have once again come up with a miraculous solution – the pathways between rooms are all pre-tunneled. You might think this is impossible. After all, as you well know, BISV has dozens of rooms! How could tunnels possibly connect all of them? This is where the Bobcat work ethic shines. Through years of hard tunneling and hard living, a hardy group of hard-pressed excavators has managed to remove almost all of the concrete, creating pockets of a substance that scientists have dubiously called “air.” Using this so-called “air,” students can move between rooms with little to no resistance, and can regularly inhale this substance to survive. Survival, BISV’s foremost trait, negates the need to dig large open-air graves outside of schools for children who cannot afford air tanks, which has long been a barrier to education for the poor. This is known as the “wealth gap.” By exploiting this ability to survive, BISV can tap into the heavily theorized long-term memory, which allows students to retain previously obtained information for later. Students then perform much better than normal on tests, letting them avoid the celebratory end-of-year College Board executions that often befall lesser schools.

BISV’s greatest strength, however, lies in its self-sufficiency. Their system of “tuition” imitates a longstanding philosophical thought experiment: capitalism. Modern thinkers have posited that by using an arbitrary form of currency, such as apologies, fingers, or sandcastles, people could trade objects that they no longer need for other objects that they soon will need. BISV, however, brilliantly trades paper, which they need, for students, who they also need. This dual need-need philosophy is part of what has allowed BISV such a hallowed position within the Spring Education pantheon. The other part, of course, is in their incredibly fluffy, passionate, and well-paid mascot, Rufus. The tale goes that from a young age, the elusive Rufus was raised and bred for greatness. It’s said that the incredible pressure of success eventually drove him mad. Now, his body is puppeteered by an insane craze for education, forever cursed to interact with small children for hours on end. Luckily, this makes him a great mascot for BISV! The BISV administration never misses. The curriculum, too, is filled with chunks of time allocated for newfangled contraptions known as “classes.” Classes, so-called because they classify students into arbitrary social divisions based on performance, allow for quick and easy filtering of the vast child conglomeration upon which the school operates into a neat group of slightly above-average students. In fact, instead of most classes starting at a mere “young fetus” level, where students are taught the basics of breathing, locomotor movement, and fear, classes are divided into a pyramid scheme of complexity, with the most prestigious classes at the head of the scheme. In this way, BISV carefully curates a precision-loaded group of children to be aimed and fired at the great mounts of higher education, where rumors abound that a mysterious transformation takes place into a state of adulthood.

And as is plainly evident, BISV is one of, if not the, foremost institutions in the wider Bay Area, and through vigorous militaristic training, allows children to pursue their careers and passions (that, of course, provide adequate income).