From The Principal’s Pen:
I would like to make use of the opportunity to welcome everyone back in this new year – 2010!
A special word of welcome to all our new learners…
Grade 8: Fraser Eggleston, Chad Fingers, Jung-Tae Lee, Francis Meyer, Farzaana Moosa, Shaylin Naidu, Sabrina Thompson
Grade 9: Steve O’Kellly, Quint Weening.
Grade 10: Imre Andras, Nicholas Dooge, Alastair McQueen
Grade 11: Emile Dreyer, Ruan Erasmus, Danielle Pretorius, Jannes Roos, Daniel Slabbert
Grade 12: Melissa Crous, Coenie Naude, Migael Wahl, Adrian Johnson
Post Matrics: Dietrich Baron, Johan Espach, Chevon Kuik, Sidne Melck, Freddie Sellers, Grant Sparg, Berto van Taak, Ignatius Van Vuuren.
We started the term off on a high note and a fast pace. The learners have started getting back into the routine of Maths, till 16:00h every day. I would like to encourage each learner to keep raising his or her bar. Furthermore, I would like to remind all of the Maths learners that our aim is to be the top Maths-school in the Western Cape. We have shown last year that this is possible! Learners will therefore need to work thoroughly and consistently, and make sure that all extra classes are attended. I would also like to encourage the parents to assist us with this by making sure their children are at school for these extra classes; and when not, a medical certificate be presented. I have found in the past that the learners who did not come to their extra maths classes are the ones that ended up falling behind during the course of the year. As long as everyone sticks to the rules, we will climb this mountain together. I feel positive about 2010, and I am looking forward to “flapping it” with each and every learner.
Beach Day:
We had our beach day on the 29th of January with learners from Grade 6 up to Grade 12. I want to congratulate our learners for showing such wonderful spirit on such a windy day on the beach, where there was more sand in your eyes and ears than soccer balls in the air. It was lovely to see everyone, educators included, being so positive, where most other people would have said that the wind was too bad and fled home. Everybody stuck together till the end as we concluded the day with the traditional tug-of-war! We must admit that we, the Educators, are still much stronger than the Grade 12 learners!
Student Council:
I would like to congratulate our head-leaders for 2010: Kirstyn Barratt (Head-girl), John du Toit (Head-boy), Stephanie Demes (Deputy Head-girl) and Andrew Rickard (Deputy Head-boy). We trust that you will keep the good name of the school up high, that you will be courteous, considerate, and helpful, and that you will lead with example. We are looking forward to an exciting year with the Student Council of 2010!
Duke’s Maths Problem:
The following mathematical dilemma is a fluctuating sequence problem and is designed to test the application of your knowledge of both sequence analysis and mathematical functions. It should be solved and presented (with all calculations) on paper and handed to Duke as soon as completed. Entries will be marked in order of acquisition. Good luck!
NOTE: This competition is for learners only, excluding any blood-relatives of David Kinghorn. Don’t even bother asking Dave for assistance, because he will do no more than reply with an astute “how about nooo?”
Evaluate the following sequence:
1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 2, 3, 2 . . .
CASE 1
Find the general explicit formula in terms of n for the sequence.
CASE 2
Find the general explicit formula for the sum of n terms in the sequence.
Winners will get their names published on the website.
Edgar The Great And His Great Regard
A Short Series By: Duke Negus
(Volume I: A Toothsome Purple Surprise)
The drugs began to peak in his abused system, as he hurtled his full mass into the nearest cypress tree – easily mistaken for some sort of gargantuan, wolf-like creature, considering his present state. The night was still young and the local bus-driver had had quite enough of the young man raving on about Joseph McCarthy and the concilliables of limpets. He had dropped the poor soul off at the first open field he could find, just outside the city limits – cruel, but necessary.
Semi-conscious from the exorbitant collision, and partly due to the corrosive effects of the acid in his nervous system, the broken soul lifted himself, once again, to his feet and stumbled continually into the darkness. He brushed up on a few shallons, spilling their loads on the rugged terrain and covering his tattered jeans in a slew of decadent purple. He stopped to ritualistically gather the remaining berries in hopes that they would become his new friends and offer their time in conversation with him. He managed to engage in a few well-versed discussions regarding McCarthy and eventually ended up having a violent debate about communism with one of the smaller fruits, as he darted off into a nearby forest.
His vision began to take a peripheral turn, as the ashen wolves barking their branches off on either side of him had become faint echoes in the colourful night air. The dispute crunched along after his footsteps, and the ground seemed to shake as he trudged on forward. A small stream appeared as a torrential flow of horizontal rain, which bulleted between the wolves and set the scene to that of a diminished fortress in some extra-terrestrial landscape. The wolves began to howl and a terror arose in the young man’s heart – it felt quite like a liver failure, but just slightly more adamant. A hot coal drew itself up into his throat, the world spun down in circles like a broken yo-yo, and the air escaped his blackened lungs, as he fell to the earth like a wave to the coastline.
“Blasted limpets got away. I can’t deal with this anymore,” he uttered in a mild panic as he jumped to his feet, “Those goddamned night-beasts must have eaten the platter dry.” The stationed figured blew two shots out of his revolver. One of them hit a straying pigeon, perchance; the other had, in his opinion, managed to reignite the sun, also perchance, as its familiar glow had begun to dawn off the brink of the forest. “You can’t stop the light, you know? It’s all in the…” A hideous choking session had commenced and words were blundering to and fro, about the premises.
It then became clear to him that the world revolved around nothing but a small plate of finnan haddock, basted with fine jersey butter. He immediately darted off, in a fit of nauseating harrumphing, in search of this newly-theorized heavenly body, not knowing where exactly it was, but having enough imagination to directly assume that it could be located somewhere about the direction in which he was galloping.
