The Paradox of Purpose
What I want to write
about and what I eventually get to write are usually different things, but I
end up writing, and that is what matters. Sometimes, the thought processes
involved in what might have ended up in the original material are not developed
enough to constitute a coherent argument, and hence a quandary.
On some other topics,
I resist the inclination to offer an opinion, not because the broadest spectrum
of viewpoints has been exhausted, but because I cannot be bothered to join the
fray as part of the baying and noisy crowd.
Then, I am gratified
by the fact that my blog is my private playground, my personal journal, and,
though it is open for interaction, conversation, and commentary with others, I
exclusively curate the content and advise others to pen rejoinders in their own
spaces if they cannot countenance my perspective for any reason.
When Rules Become
Weapons
One thought has been
percolating in my mind for days: the idea that the head of a school had put out
a rule stating that anything that happens on the school grounds is part of
schoolwork. Then someone decides to throw stones to break the glass windows,
and that appears to pass for schoolwork, when it is entirely wrong.
Next, someone
takes away someone else's lunch. The wronged cannot complain because it
happened on the school grounds, and it would be passed off as schoolwork,
despite the obvious injustice. Unruliness runs riot in the school community,
with the authorities appearing to sanction and approve the abuse without
consequence.
The Rise of Impunity
A kind of
lasciviousness gains hold: an untrammelled exploitation of the weak and a
perversion of order. Herein lies the inexorable rise of the playground bully,
barely held to account and never held accountable, believing they have a
licence to act with impunity, having gained immunity by the original
pronouncement of schoolwork.
He takes another
small boy in a stranglehold, stripping the child of any autonomy to the point
of suffocation. Everyone on the playground cannot boldly come out to say the
playground bully is wrong, out of fear of being on the receiving end of the
bully's antics. Where they should have ganged up to teach the bully a lesson,
the bully gains ascendancy, urged on by lethargic, cowering solipsism and
doublespeak.
A Metaphor Unfolding
Behold, amongst you a
metaphor of the state of the world today, and it will get worse until someone,
and many, decide enough is enough. This bully has no lowest level; each time we
have thought it could get no worse, he has plumbed new depths. In the traversal
of the bottomless, something must catch that fall, or it will never end.
Think about it, can
anyone call him to order?
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