When I was a child there was a girl in my class who we called Bossy Britches. She was not especially popular. Children seem to instinctively know that those who think themselves qualified to dictate to others without taking any responsibility should neither be liked nor trusted.
She did collect from among the more impressionable kids a few acolytes happy enough to be guided by someone louder and more assertive than themselves. Most of us though ignored her dictatorial manner. We were content to focus on the more important concerns of childhood like having fun and playing games.
At my school the emphasis was on the three R’s of a good kiwi education – reading, ‘riting and rugby. And in a fourth subject, arithmetic, we learned that for every problem there are an infinite number of wrong solutions but only one right one. (Algebra and quadratic equations were a long way off then.) We learned that two and two made four, and if you thought that it made five or three, or 192, then you received no marks for participation. You were left in no doubt that you were wrong and that both your working out and your solution should be disregarded by others and amended by yourself.
Many years have passed since then and we have undergone the process of accumulating body mass and memories while losing teeth and many of the reliable instincts that we had as children. Chief amongst these being the refusal to listen to Bossy Britches. We call this process growing up but in hindsight it may simply be only decay.
‘Give me a child until he is seven and I will give you the man’ said the Jesuits. A quick look at what we have collectively done to the world will show that those influencing the pre-sevens have a lot to answer for.
Somehow the many and various Bossy Britches of the world have achieved what the childhood version could not. Unlike the precocious schoolgirl of my childhood they have convinced us that they are necessary and have contrived to make us pay them for their dubious service. They have not achieved this by cleverness, courage or strength, they have simply manipulated us by the use of words. The alliterative if pejorative term Bossy Britches has been replaced with more ubiquitous ones like Politician, Public Servant, or Consultant.
The character flaws of presumptuous pride and self-righteousness are no longer cause for scorn and derision but are hailed as valid reasons for reverence and respect. Selfishness and hubris have been rebranded as self-empowerment and healthy self-assertiveness. They have coerced the vast majority of us to play the role of free-range slaves who try to make some sense of it all from the sidelines.
The Bossy Britches Brigade makes us pay them for telling us what to do. If we do not do it their way they will spend our money to force us into compliance. All the while undeniable evidence mounts that their way doesn‘t work and is leading us all towards destruction.
Todays politicians, economists, consultants, bankers and many other institutionalised criminals can and probably do insist that two plus two equals something approximating seventy eleven. They then award themselves a gold star for participation. Those who point out that they are wrong and their working is faulty are told condescendingly they obviously don‘t understand. They will say ‘It’s difficult and complex stuff that only very special people can do. Simpletons can’t be expected to understand’.
It is all an outrageous lie of course and is only a smokescreen to cover the fact that they are lazy, stupid, thieves and fraudsters who produce nothing worthwhile while existing as leeches sucking the lifeblood from a weak and progressively sicker humanity. ‘Truly I tell you, anyone
who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it’ says Jesus, Yet it seems crazy to spend a lifetime becoming what we already were to begin with?
It is a sad thing to reflect that for most of us the passage of years has seen a loss of innocence with the gaining of gullibility. Children are not so easily duped as those of us who think we know a thing or two. But the joke is on us. We have given away our autonomy and paid others handsomely to take it from us. And yet we had already been taught the lessons in primary school.
The Bossy Britches Brigade makes us pay them for telling us what to do. If we do not do it their way they will spend our money to force us into compliance.