“...instead of writing your stuff down honestly with quill and ink well.”
A century or so ago, my Uncle Fred, in school, dipped the pigtail of the girl sitting in front of him in the ink well on his desk. Guess it was ok though, he went on to become Vice President and head of the Mortgage Loan Dept of a national bank in my hometown.
I'm not that old, but I remember in grade school we had flip-top metal desks with wooden tops, and inside this sort of desk was a round bracket to hold an inkwell. Older grade school and high school kids at the time were using those newfangled "cartridge" fountain pens. With these pens you had a little plastic ink cartridge you popped in, instead of having to dip the pen into a bottle of ink.
Today, of course, Uncle Fred would face assault charges from that incident, and as a result would be limited to a lifetime as a fry cook/s This November IS, not “maybe”, our last chance to save this nation......