UnBooks:Education as Business

Don't use the bathtubs in the corridors of the school building.

I stepped on the grimy stairs of the school building, passing the empty hall alone. Passing the elevators, I found myself in a long corridor of administrative departments. A mumble filtered through the closed doors; true, at 5 AM, most faculty would be sleeping on their sofa to TV soap operas, preparing for another day of personality cultivation, or PerCult.

Suddenly, the elevator door opened behind, sending a jolt through me. Startled, I turned around, only to see the principal smiling at me. He let me in his office and signaled me to sit down.

The principal straightened his face. "You must study. It is for your own future, not ours." Said the principal, "Those who work hard in the now will enjoy life later. But you, who do not pay attention to education, will lose your job, be denied an identity, fail to create value, and end up on the bottom rung of the societal ladder. Sink or swim, think about it this way. Love yourself; study."

His red nose bobbed up and down as he spoke, a rolling gear that churns out endless words of worldly wisdom. His eyebrows tied into two rainbows, his mouth a semicircle; he broke into smile, but a tear ran down my cheeks and wetted my D- report card. I wanted to say something, but a telephone ring interrupted me. The principal rapidly forgot his straggling student. He was laughing before he picked up the receiver. "Haha I know, Danny, work is work is work..."

The principal was so popular that he was always on the phone during work hours. I patiently waited for him to express his lyrical sense, then bowed and quietly left.

Pipeline breach

At bedtime, mom came to inspect and inquire me about school. Seeing my grades, she didn't hesitate to hit me. She sang, "Work hard, my boy, mama believes in you. Remember what I told you? In a pot of boiling water, be the top beans, not the bottom beans."

"But mom –"

"Hush, honey, I think there're some fancy phrases for the important analogy I just mentioned. Faba ulteria? Whatever. Anyway, wish you good night for a genki day of school."

I lay in bed but couldn't sleep. I tried to bring up the warm image of the principal, but I couldn't concentrate enough. Bad sleep results in bad learning, which results in anxiety and bad sleep and all over again... What incompetency!

 – Futilely, I attempted to repress my racing thoughts, like trying to stop water from a faucet with my fingers.

The water spilled everywhere. A jet of water sprayed into my eyes and temporarily blinded me. I fumbled for my worksheets to hand in tomorrow, trying to defend the least of my dignity. In a hurry, I bumped into a calculus teddy bear – horrors, it was trying to eat my alarm clock! That was the last camel on the straw. How would I wake up on time without the wake-up call? The straw caught fire from an overheating mind, but the body managed to ride on the camel and escape the silver towers of knowledge.

"Those who do not pay attention to education... do not deserve an identity." So true. The person who says that should be cursed. But there was not an agent to carry out the action, so the curse was invalid.

It was already day. The camel had wandered away; cars sending children to school flowed slowly in the streets. A few coins in the pocket fueled confidence, and so the arms flexed and the legs moved.

Far away, the school bell rang, a faint clang drowned out by the noise of advertisements.

Sugar to dissociate

The road led on, stretching to nowhere under vague streaks of clouds. Buildings rose and fell, people magnified and shrank, the vehicle stream thickened and loosened; only the pavement under the soles felt solid, binding the feet to the navigation process.

To wander without a cause is to be delivered a sure way to hell. Luckily, a cozy lightbox appeared in the corner, pointing to a neon-lined fries sculpture; that's certainly a valid reason to be. Half gone of mind but complete of body, a good meal shall be the minimum requirement for the unsubstantial spirit.

A blast of chilly AC wind liberated from the opening automatic door. The landing in the world of food was smooth; the impact was dampened with tomatoe slime and Coffee Mate. Following the automated neural circuits, a ritual was performed at the automated counter, for the reward would be an automatic meal, non-specifically prepared.

The food was good though only arguably enjoyable. Would it be classified as fun when the mouth was merely processing the food to push it down into the stomach? In here, feelings were as dim as dead flies on a dirty window.

Worshippers of the principal – they are just like us!

Coincidetally, the solution was just on the advertisement paper covering the food tray. Suddenly, the elevator hummed in my ears again, and I saw the principal smiling again, this time on paper.

I read the advertisement carefully, but failed to understand anything. The only thing I saw was the principal standing beside a car and pointing at something. An idea struck me. Making sure no-one was watching, I tore his figure from the paper, being careful to avoid "hurting" him. Then, using a bit of ketchup, I sticked him to my forehead. Voilà! I was complete of identity now, linked to an admirable figure in a deep and unique way.

Rebellion has devalued

Towering above other buildings, the advertisarium broadcasts subliminal messages to the commuters even when the city is in a power outage.

The world around me regained a feel, a texture, and too much saturation that almost made this encounter cartoonish. Satisfied, I enjoyed the rest of the fries. Walking out, I found myself under the thick noon air, a bit unsure about where to go. But look, those city advertisariums high and erect were going about their business above the city. To be visually and aurally stimulated, the 21st century people had to specially allocate time to watch films; we watch ads, anytime, anywhere. When concentration was needed, I simply ignored the ads like ignoring a midroll banner on a website. And the ads always had my favorite person on; I looked to the closest big screen, for I could not breathe without him in sight. Sure enough, the principal was in there, giving an excited speech:

"Our neo-quantum Boltzmann brain theory sets up the backends for a quantitative measure of emergent behavior regarding impulsive behaviors, by revising the old physique passé to account for the influence of neoneoismism." Cheerful music faded in, Dum dum dum, the same mumbled drum beats.

The huge principal continued, "We have taken a great step forward in this potentially world-changing science. Results on our official website." He pointed at a link down below. "Do'sub'notif'update..." Colorful triangles popped from the big screen, futuristic neon lit up along the edges, orange flames leapt above its top, setting part of the sky on fire. Inside the screen, people were cheering for some grand harmonious metaphysics that I didn't understand.

I let out an exalted shout. My soul had been purified by the principal's words. If so many people agree with you, you must be right! I thought. I gently applied pressure to my forehead, making sure my principal was fast and secure there, then set out on the long walk home.