They come home more indoctrinated than informed, more addicted than adjusted, more estranged than educated. They come home the way they left it: able to shade the right ovals and say the right things—to not know there are different things to say—because their opinions do not differ from established opinion. They come home with the mistaken belief that where they go reflects where they will be; in power, with the right to rule the world and a mandate to inherit the earth. They come home as putative presidents, senators, governors, and secretaries of state. They come home as tyrants in training.
Such is homecoming for the many among the few: the students at eight to ten schools, where admission is tantamount to anointment, where admission requires suspension of disbelief, where it is easier to not know how when no one can explain why; why this student and not that one; why this man and not that woman; why this color and not that one; why brown and not yellow; why red and not all colors—why!
Why learn the truth, that acceptance is arbitrary, when so many think they are exceptional?
Why learn anything not listed on a syllabus?
Unwilling to ask why, these individuals are nonetheless not afraid to say: Me, too. Not the me-tooism of presumed victims but the shout of presumptive nominees, because they think they are the ones we have been waiting for.
God spare us the wait, please.
God spare us, period, because we have no time for false messiahs.