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"Get the books out!" To his way of thinking, this cut off any excuse for further talking, and excused him from teaching us. It became a ritual. Unlike superiors such as Mr Bowen, the younger teachers had rare disorientating bursts of inspiration, perhaps from an awakened conscience, who knows? On such occasions, they filled the blackboard with chalkings, copying copiously from a book held majestically aloft in one hand, while the other screeched the chalk. And for emphasis, we had illustrations in colour. We became proficient in the speed and execution of handwriting, and it was economical, obviating the need to purchase textbooks for the pupils. But like our tutors, we were merely scribes. I suppose to the school inspectors it must have looked very impressive, until, that is, they become likewise entrenched, like Mr. Bowen. I'm told things have improved today. Now they go on strike, and between long holidays complain endlessly of the workload. The day finally arrived for our bunch to be shed like unripe fruit to face the world of industry, and for some, to leave school to join an extension of the same arrangement. I refer of course to those entering pseudo-employment: Languishing over desks and keeping records of other people's industry. My initiation into the world of work, like it or not, was to start the first day after leaving school, at a huge complex of local railway yards.
Whilst readers are
free to draw their own conclusions regarding the real life examples in this
chapter, I wonder how many of you have taken note of the self
But while
sectarian worship has its origins in "Babylon" and is conducted by
a variety of idol worshippers today, rulers of the political "wild beast"
and their admirers are also of "Babylon's" fruitage
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