Goodbye Enemy Airship (A Short Treatise On Education)

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"The rug--or let us say the bourgeios parquet floor--has been ruthlessly pulled out from under our feet, and we must now search for a bit of earth on which to stand." Bonhoeffer 1928

Mind broken over scraps of metal and ruin. I scrape along under maroon clouds wondering what we will become. Mist and haze all around, smoke clouds as if lifting off a great crowd of milling people, but no one is here. Only burning cars.

Pools of water appear to reflect the heavens. Gorecki’s aria begins. The strings are slow to swell and then deep at first. A beautiful voice sings out:

Mamo, nie płacz, nie. (No, Mother, do not weep)
Niebios Przeczysta Królowo, (Most chaste Queen of Heaven)
Ty zawsze wspieraj mnie. (Support me always.)

Then the piano and the last line sings out:

                       Zdrowas Maria (Holy Mother)

All smoke ceases as the cars dissolve into dirt. The ground itself seems to rise in little hills and green sprouts emerge. The clouds break open as the sun beams upon the new sprouts, eagerly looking down into the world renewed.

Another voice:

Do not explain.
Let one reading suffice.
Give them poetry and parables.
No more candy.
No more marks.
Give them Greek tragedy for God’s sake.
The child must read to know.
Your business is to see that they know.

With these commands growing louder and stronger the final t.v. fuzz blows away. The sprouts are putting out their leaves and shedding the dead seed.

The child opens her eyes and looks skyward. With a noble countenance she whispers: Goodbye Enemy Airship.

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