Societies all have their rites
to signal who belongs:
some, shibboleths; some, handshakes;
some, decoder rings; some, songs.
Our ruling class has pedigree -
that sausage grinder fame
of university bestowed
letters beside your name.
Societies all have their ranks,
our ruling class as well:
which sausage grinder framed your thoughts,
how well they did excel -
your fealty, your true belief
in stories that they sowed,
your type and number of degrees -
the letters they bestowed.
Sausages legion, link on link,
repeating what was schooled:
“The Country Class is stupid and
therefore it must be ruled.
And who better to rule them than
we betters trained in same:
we best and brightest ruling class,
we with a lettered name.”
But the more letters by your name,
the more time that you've spent
detached from that same Real World
toward which your will is bent.
And so your bitter paradox,
which none-the-less is true:
that stupid, stupid Country Class
is far more wise than you.
No, anti-intellectual-
ism is not to blame
when one points out this paradox,
rejects your royal claim,
doubts your fav'rite professor's worth,
fights all that you've been taught:
True Education doesn't breed
conformity of thought.
It has Truth as its arbiter
not consensus of crowd,
demands that thinking for oneself -
self-ishness - be allowed,
appeals to what's reality
not to platonic form,
cares not for letters, pedigrees,
rites, rank, or cliquish norm.
But there's another paradox,
and one that's just as true:
while, yes, the Country Class is wise,
it listens still to you,
accords still to you its respect
however-so unearned,
cedes still its children to your will
so they might too be turned,
urges them to a grinder go
only to face regret
when lettered sausages return
with rote and crushing debt,
with smug, petulant discontent,
with cocksure certainty:
“the stupid people must be ruled
by us with pedigree.”
So, I'll resolve this paradox
and so might resolve yours:
no more will I give my respect
to those name ligatures.
Until they stand for something more
than puffed-up power claim,
they prove no more than deficit -
those letters by your name.
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