Ignorant Worship and the Worship of Ignorance: The Death of a Tiny Mind.
Updated: Nov 16, 2020
“There he is! Over there! Get him! He cant go far or fast with that pack full of stupid books! Four kids take off running through the schoolyard with signs of motion in the distance at the end of the parking lot. ‘He is gonna learn that he better stop doing all that extra credit or answering questions in class ’cause he makes us look bad.” Spoke a crackling prepubescent voice. A quick stop, breathing hard and searching, gasping between words. ‘Stupid nerd, he is gonna talk funny for our presentations on Friday, for sho’, cause I’m gonna make sho’ that face gets a pounding” Back in motion, they see a head flash between two cars in the corner of the lot along the tree line. It is presumably attached to a body, but a small one most certainly, as the row of imported Japanese cars hides any motion from below. The sound of flat, uncertain shoes slapping the pavement in erratic patterns is quickly drowned by 4 pairs of athletically driven and frantically approaching uniform snare drums. Screeching and labored breathing is followed with shrieks of apprehension as the hare has been cornered by the hounds; interestingly in place of the baying howls is a growl of syllables easily interchangeable in any human laguage but discernibly vicious in all dialects. “What!?!” Panting…“What?” A swallow “… do you want this time?” Comes a weak voice strained from exercise and fear. “We don’t need a reason to get you what you got comin’!” “Shut up man.” Clearly the leader. “Keep your voice down and get his hands and feet, I’ll get his mouth shut up good and quick for always talkin’ in class.” The last words trailed off to a growl as all 4 quickly moved in, the leader last, coming with a running start, fist overhead, aiming straight down at the victim. The kids on the ground could smell the fear leaking from their charge, or maybe it was urine again, they cared not as they watched with awe as their alpha drove his considerable weight down, down, down… From the vehicular shadow cast by a late afternoon sun a small pair of eyes desperately stared skyward at a hand, closed and white knuckled, streaking and sped on by an arm and shoulder destined to offer little but sure desolation and destruction. Closing its eyes the small impala accepted its fate, an inescapable decree from the mighty lion king of the Sahara that would never descend. Eyes opening in confusion, a massive hand was seen, silhouetted by the flaming fires ever drawn by Helios through the daytime sky. “What is the meaning of this?!?! You four think this is fair? How about we see what you can do to a person your size!” A deep and tremulous voice exclaimed as the leader was driven, shocked, from a stance of power into fawning shame. The four were watched through eyes from a height of over 6 feet, eyes of determination, shining, cold as steel, and unfalteringly wise. It seemed they completely changed color as they turned from the retreating to the wretch at the feet of the usually quiet but stern headmaster of the school. “I’m sorry kid, I wish I could tell you that they will get what they deserve but…In all truthfulness they will be the majority soon enough… You deserve respect and they will never give it unless you act like they do. Promise me you’ll never be like them and I’ll do what I can to help.” As he said this he met the gaze of the wet and now cold child. With a look of disdain the small eyes turned down, empty and vacant. “Please sir, don’t do anything… Let them do what they will… I wont talk in class any more, I’m done, I don’t want to be smart anymore, I don’t care about anything but getting out of here. It will never be better no matter what you do to help me…” “I will just sit and join them. They wont hurt me if I do that. They wont laugh at me, they wont call me names, their parents wont point and laugh at the science fair, and most of all I’ll only get hit once in a while not everyday… Why, why look in books, nothing good ever comes from books…” Slowly stretching to a size of nearly 3 feet, with an audible sigh and the sound of wet denim stretching, a little dark haired shape started to walk towards the buses. “…Goodbye sir… Goodbye…” Feel free to replace the characters, setting, and method of oppression as the situation never changes. Try a non believer coming out in a southern church community, try a woman in the middle east learning in secret only to be found out, try a high school kid who would rather get on the honor roll than party, and finally you could even try a northern Irish catholic surrounded by Irish protestants… From the Jersey shore, to the Rhine, to the Pyramids of Egypt, to the temples of the east, ignorance is king. Do as you will with these statements but we all know what it feels like to look into empty eyes.