Sultan Knish
A Scientific Romance of the Year 2024
In the sixteenth year of Obama, Marc and Julie obtained a carbon pass
and set off on a light rail journey in a comfortable semi-transparent
carriage traveling at a top speed of 30 kilometers per hour whose motive
power came entirely from sunshine. As it was a cloudy day, the train
moved slowly, often stopping for hours at a time, before sluggishly
stirring into motion again, but the young couple did not mind. Obtaining
a carbon pass was difficult enough that the very experience of
traveling was new to them, as it was to most citizens of the USNAE or
the United States of North America and Europe as the grand unified
republic was known.
Marc and Julie had been in their mid-thirties at the dawn of the USNAE,
thought by many to be the greatest achievement known to mankind, but
even so its parade of accomplishments often left them awed and proud to
be living in such an astounding time and age.
"Just think," Marc said. "Twenty years ago we might have made this trip
in an hour, while releasing countless carbons into the aether, at a
dangerous and unhealthy speed. But today as we roll slowly across the
wetlands that reclaimed the polluting wheat farms that once soiled this
landscape, we are a living part of the solution to the human disease
that once marred the earth."At that moment the train rattled onto the bridge connecting the mainland
to the Isle of Endless Education and the young couple gasped as they
saw the shining white towers of its many educational institutions
shimmering in the distance.
Like most educated people, they had spent the better part of their lives
at various schools, colleges and universities. Marc had only completed
his basic education last year at the age of forty-two, while Julie was
due to complete hers this year. Armed with these diplomas they would
finally qualify for certain entry level jobs, but would need a more
advanced degree for a serious career. And it was at the Isle of Endless
Education that the next stage of their education would begin. Marc was
not yet ready to enroll, but he had wished to begin their honeymoon by
showing Julie the intellectual feast awaiting them on the isle that held
the premier education facilities in the entire USNAE.
Before long the train pulled to a halt and they, along with three or
four other passengers disembarked at the foot of a massive alabaster
statue of a giant umbrella, three figs, a pencil and a drowsing cat.
"That's interesting," Julie said, frowning at the strange display.
Marc knew that this signified she did not understand what it meant. As a
mere forty-two year old undergraduate, whose specialty was not in the
field of aesthetics, he did not comprehend the rational scientific
principles behind the sculpture, though he knew that they were there.
"It's symbolic."
"Of what?"
Now it was Marc's turn to frown. "Of wisdom?"
"Nonsense," came the sharp retort. The young couple turned to find
Professor-General Harumph Brown standing behind them. Marc had known the
old man in his first decade of higher education and had still retained a
fondness for him, even though he had not likewise retained a single
thing that the professor had taught him.
"So very good to see you," Marc said delightedly.
"Wisdom is for the ancients," the Professor-General continued, "but we
in our enlightened modern age know that there is no such thing as
wisdom, just as we know that there are no ghosts or fairies. There are
only attitudes. Take this sculpture. What does it mean? It's an
umbrella, three figs and a kitten. That's all it is and nothing else."
"So why is it here?" Julie ventured to ask.
"To test attitudes," the Professor-General said. "That is the entire
purpose of education. We are constantly testing attitudes to separate
healthy and unhealthy attitudes. Education is curative. Knowledge does
no good if it is not integrated into a healthy operating social model.
Take you, my boy, a fine student. One of the finest I ever had."
"Thank you, sir," Marc said.
"Now tell me one thing that you learned in all your thirty-six years of schooling?" the Professor-General insisted.
Marc scrambled to think of something. "Basic addition?"
"Then tell me what six times eight is? No, I thought so," the Professor-General said."Not that I know it either. But try again."
"That wisdom is nonsense," Marc said.
"Very good, and you'll forget that in a minute or two," the
Professor-General said. "But that is the true answer. In thirty-six
years, you have learned absolutely nothing. Not a single thing. All that
you have learned is nothing."
Marc beamed, proud of his achievement.
"The State educational institutions have spent over a quarter of a
century filling your head with absolutely nothing and then rigorously
testing to see that you had learned absolutely nothing, all to cultivate
the exact attitude you display. The State has convinced you that you
know everything, while ensuring that you know absolutely nothing," the
Professor-General said, raising one arm to encompass the sweep of the
giant umbrella, figs and sleeping cat. "This is the attitude that we
have cultivated at great expense. This is the true meaning of the statue
before you. A graduate, such as Marc, will be convinced that he
understands it, although he does not. The statue is the meaning of
meaninglessness, emptiness in form, a void with substance."
"But couldn't the State have saved money by not teaching him anything at all?" Julie inquired.
"That would entirely miss the point," the Professor-General said.
"Anyone can learn nothing, but not everyone can learn a nothingness so
thoroughly that it prevents any other knowledge from being absorbed Our
education is like a vaccine. It prevents actual knowledge from being
absorbed. We could just as easily have put nothing here, but then
students might envision what should be here. By putting a completely
senseless thing here, we block them from constructively using their
minds. Similarly through our prolonged education, we prevent students
from learning anything on their own."
While Marc and Julie struggled to take this in, the Professor-General snapped his fingers. "But that is only half the reason."
"What's the other half?" Marc asked.
"Debt," the Professor-General said cheerfully. "There was a time when
men said that money makes the world go round, they were wrong. It's debt
that makes the world go round. Now how much debt do the two of you
carry on your shoulders?"
Neither of the two knew, though they knew they ought to have the answer.
Every week they received a new notification from the government credit
bureau announcing their total, but it was a staggeringly large sum, and
had been since they were born. Each time they signed another student
loan application, they paid little attention to the tremendous amount,
which for all its size, was only a small increase in the already sizable
amount that every USNAE citizen owed from birth.
"There was a time when the government owed the majority of its debt to
its own citizens, but that meant any man or woman could be considered a
creditor for the State," the Professor-General said. "It became
necessary for the roles to shift, for the State to become the creditor
of every citizen. And this was done with education."
"But education is free for everyone," Julie exclaimed.
"Indeed it is," the Professor-General said. "Everyone is entitled to an
eternal education for life. That is in the USNAE Constitution. But even
free things must be paid for. Those who receive an education go into
debt for it. Those who do not, go into debt for those who do. That way
everyone is in debt and most of the populace is educated to know
nothing. Not even how much they owe."
"But won't the debt have to be paid for?" Julie asked.
The Professor-General clucked his tongue at her foolishness. "Whom could
it possibly be paid to? If everyone is in debt, then debt is the new
currency. The more debt you run up, the wealthier you are. This is the
New Economic Plan of our Beloved Leader which rewards consumption of
government services as the ultimate form of productivity. Since everyone
is in debt and everyone's debt is owned by everyone else, every man and
woman will compete to maximize their utilization of government
services, so that they will benefit from the services that they are
indebted for."
"That's why no one earns money anymore," Marc said loudly. "When we get
jobs for the first time, we'll get paid in debt. Each time we're paid,
the money is directly collected by the government and our debt is
reduced by a little."
"The debt economy is an extension of a phenomenon that began in the
previous century where men and women no longer labored to earn money,
but to pay down their debts," the Professor-General said. "The more the
government gives you, the more debt you have, but you would be a fool
not to take it, for your neighbors are running up government debt on
your credit. Take the government house, car, education, tofu growing
grant and anything else you can get."
While Marc and Julie thought this over, the Professor-General gestured
for them to follow, and he led them past many gleaming white towers,
senseless pieces of art, public performances, student protests, faculty
protests, protests against the protests and celebrations of education,
until they reached a movie theater.
"You remember your first graduation, don't you?" the Professor-General asked them.
The young couple nodded, each of them recalling the ticker tape parade
through town, which encourage graduates to continue their education,
rather than drop out in their twenties as many did.
"I mentioned attitudes before," the Professor-General said. "Here we are
testing an entirely new approach that will revolutionize education. And
you two are privileged to see it for the first time."
The couple followed him up the stairs to the projection booth while
below them the newest class of graduates filed in and took their seats
waiting for the movie to start. The Professor-General carefully examined
a bank of screens in front of him. Each screen had a number on it and
as they glowed to life, a name appeared in each dark space.
The red curtains lifted and image and sound filled the theater. There
were speeches by the Beloved Leader, some from his early days in
politics and some from his sixteenth year in office. There were images
of violent protests, scenes from history, homosexual pornography, wars,
irrational statements, and a hundred other things.
As the images flashed by, lines appeared in the dark spaces under each
name. The Professor-General studied the lines carefully, approving of
some, while frowning at others. When it was over, some of the students
were led out the front, while others were directed to the back into a
sterile white room.
The old man led Marc and Julie downstairs and allowed them to observe
behind a glass partition as a student was seated in a chair and a metal
prod was directed at the back of his head.
"What is that?" Julie asked.
"That is a Ray of Enlightenment," the Professor-General said. "It uses
electro-chemical principles to destroy the frontal lobe of the brain.
What the ancients used to crudely describe as a lobotomy, but far more
sophisticated."
"Isn't that a bit excessive?" Julie asked.
"Not at all," the elderly gentleman said. "His responses, like those of
all the students here, were measured by the metrics. His attitude toward
the film was unhealthy. He reacted negatively toward the positive
scenes and positively toward the negative scenes. The Ray of
Enlightenment will educate him in a way that not even our finest
educational systems could."
"I suppose it's for the best," Julie agreed.
"It is. Come," the Professor-General said, and they left the room, while behind them the student dumbly remained in the chair.
"What will happen to him?" Marc asked.
"The same thing that will happen to all of them," the Professor-General
said briskly. "They will be sent to participate in cultural exchange
programs in China or the Caliphate, those governments will weigh their
service in the coal mines and oil fields against a fraction of the debt
that we owe them."
Outside the air was refreshing and they could not help but think how
twenty years ago it would have been reeking with carbon, hydrogen and
even worse pollutants, but now in the best of all worlds, it was clean.
Marc and Julie bid the Professor-General goodbye, promising to return to
enroll for an advanced degree, and then sat waiting for another train.
When it finally came, they got on board and slowly began the rattling
journey toward the next stage of their destination. The Isle of Freedom.
(Author's Note: This is meant to be a parody of Socialist futuristic
tracts from the late 19th century such as Looking Backward. It's a
change of pace from some of the usual articles. If anyone would like to
see more of it, let me know in the comments.)
1 comment:
A thousand rules and regulations a day are not enough. Tomorrow there will be a thousand more.
The Progressives Creed...
I enjoy your writing very much, please continue. The battle must be waged on all fronts and in any form possible. Thank you for your work.
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