Everybody Wants To Rule The World

The world is as big as the limits of vision. When the Greeks said 'kosmos', they meant whatever was within the limits of existence. But for some, the world is very small; for some, their grasp is greater than their mind's reach.

On Thursday, I was at a ceremony somewhere in the clement reaches of Atlantis. It was funny to see two people whose exaltations (with all due respect, really) still evoke from my colleagues elsewhere a 'what? really?' response when I speak of them. It was slightly sad to hear people nearby muse about whether those two were lesser servitors or whatever; it was embarrassing to see certain things happen on stage. I guess the 'what? really?' response I got was even sadder.

But the thing is that these people are very different. They don't really want to rule their microcosm, but they are agents of rulership now. One has a big erratic vision, a bit like too much lipstick on lips too thin; the other has a narrow vision, like trying to see the world outside through a keyhole.

The problem back in the high tower of the Inquisition is that some people do indeed want to rule that world, or at least have the power of life and death. It brings to mind the key themes of Roger Zelazny's Lord of Light, itself based partly on Hesse's Siddhartha. The insect has six legs. Some of those legs want to be mandibles.

High above, the boot descends.

Things To Do

I remember writing about my ambition, or lack of it, five years ago in this post. Despite being talked of as ambitious, I am quite certain that those who talked never knew me — I don't think I am. Rather, as I said then, my ambition as a teacher has always been "to warn the idle, encourage the timid, help the weak and be patient with everyone." Those lines are quoted from Paul's final instructions to the church at Thessalonica.

It was with some amusement therefore that I read the Gnome's version of June 1977, in which he said, "We had to exhort the faithful, encourage the faint-hearted, and censure the ungodly." That, he said, was the task of the Atlantean leadership.

It occurs to me that both lists are the outlines of some sort of philosophy. Both can be seen as lists of 'things to do'. For me, Paul's list is ideal for a teaching philosophy: you will always have three kinds of poor students — the lazy, the fearful and the less academically inclined — and you must be patient with all of them. For the Gnome, it was a question of political importance: what to do with those on your side, those on the other side, and those sitting on the fence.

The key difference is that I've never seen any kind of student as being 'on the other side'. If anything, I've always been on their side (whether they thought so or not, heh). I've felt frustration, but never contempt; I've felt irritation, but never hatred. Students are people trying to get on in life; it's the duty of a teacher to help them in whatever way a teacher can, and not to hinder them.

Ambition (Redux)

It's interesting that, three and a half years ago, I wrote this particular post about ambition. Since I wrote that piece, I have not changed in this particular respect. It is still as perverse or as inexplicable (or incredible) to others that I should think this way, but it is true.

Out of curiousity, I decided to search for 'ambition' within this blog. The findings were interesting. It's not that I've never been ambitious before, but I have held most peculiar ambitions. As the Good Book says, "Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands..." (I Thessalonians 4:11a). If anything, my major flaw in pursuing this set of ambitions is an insatiable curiosity (aforesaid), often at war with the second point in the set.

However, I realise that I have also had other ambitions, which can be discerned from reading through the post first linked. Further down, it quotes another section of that epistle. Specifically, I Thessalonians 5:14 says, "And we urge you, brothers, warn those who are idle, encourage the fearful, help the incapable, be patient with everyone." To me, this has always been a brief summary of the Teacher's Approach.

In those four points, the bulk of my earthly ambitions has been described. And here, for those of you who have been taught by me, I would like to apologise if at any time I failed to observe these things when teaching you.