Sunnandæg

By some infelicity of language, sloppy pronunciation of Old English leads to 'Sunday' sounding a lot like 'Sun-Ending'. And that's the paradox of life — if the sun rises, it must also set.

Recently in Atlantis, the Deputy High Priest was treated to some verbal abuse regarding his lack of desire for the answering of questions posed to him by some young angst-ridden acolyte. Essentially, when asked a question about (that inchoate construct known as) the future, the DHP looked at his presumptive interlocutor and asked him, "What do you think?"

Apparently, an observer (who subsequently was overjoyed to see his f*ck-ridden piece go viral) took offense at this. His main point was that 17-year-olds with little life experience should not be expected to think for themselves in the presence of glory. Similar sentiments were expressed by others: "What on earth are we tithing our loot and lives for, if the DHP himself cannot supply answers?"

Well, in the last Grand Quorum, the citizens of Atlantis made it quite clear that they wanted the hierarchs of the land to engage them more, to ask the people and consult with them over all kinds of things. One would have thought that the sight of the DHP graciously asking this young man for his opinions would have brought joy to the hearts of all (Atlantean) humanity. But no, no...

Leadership is a thankless task. Half the population thinks they're paying you to govern them; half the population thinks they're paying you for the privilege of consulting them in order to govern their living space. I can't help but laugh at it all.