Act I: The Request
Act II: The Arrival of the Document
The day arrives. You eagerly open the document, ready to devour every word, every detail, every hidden gem. But what do you find? A beautiful symphony of black bars. It’s like someone took a Sharpie to a Tolstoy novel. Pages and pages of glorious redactions. Almost everything is closed out. It’s practically avant-garde art.
Act III: The Interpretation
Scene 1: The Mysterious Meeting
Clearly, there must have been some high-stakes drama discussed. Perhaps they were debating the construction of a secret underground bunker beneath the high school. Or maybe they were planning the East Brunswick version of the Hunger Games to settle budget disputes. We’ll never know, thanks to the BOE’s penchant for secrecy.
Scene 2: The Secret Society
Was the superintendent revealing his true identity as a member of a secret society of educational overlords? Were they discussing the initiation rites involving ritualistic chalkboard cleanings and the sacred oath of the Dry Erase Marker? It’s entirely plausible.
Scene 3: The Contract Conundrum
Maybe somebody was trying to get an extended contract or a big raise. Who knows? Was it a heated negotiation filled with dramatic monologues about dedication to the school district, sprinkled with tears and pleas for financial recognition? Picture a desperate person on one knee, passionately arguing for a salary bump that matches their heroic efforts to navigate the treacherous waters of public education. It’s a scene worthy of Broadway, obscured by the BOE’s artistic choice of black ink.
Act IV: The Grand Finale
You’re left with more questions than answers. Bernardo has masterfully composed an OPRA of intrigue, suspense, and frustration. This masterclass in redaction leaves you with nothing but your imagination to fill in the blanks. Were they discussing funding cuts, secret alliances, or perhaps just their favorite pizza toppings? The world may never know.
Encore: The Satirical Soliloquy
In conclusion, requesting an OPRA from the East Brunswick BOE is like asking for the recipe to Coca-Cola: you get a whole lot of nothing with a side of frustration. But fear not, dear reader, for in this sea of redactions lies the true art—the art of keeping us all in the dark while maintaining the illusion of transparency. Bravo, East Brunswick, bravo. The redacted OPRA is a masterpiece worthy of the finest satirical applause.