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* BFU Weekly Journal *
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Thursday, May 22, 2008

Seeking A Cure For The Common Education

A frontal assault on wealthy and entrenched educational bureaucrats is not the answer.

As a side note there is encouraging news, some of those education industry bureaucrats have noticed us and started to snipe. These may just be scouts or pickets taking a random shot, but we have made some wary and dangerous. Good.

No, a frontal assault is not yet within our power. As awareness increases of the dysfunctional education system our numbers are increasing - there is no need for covert action. What we need to do is flank institutional education's Maginot line fortifications. Approved formal institutions and their supporting ramparts are all intimidation, mono-directional, and with no sustainable depth.

Here are a few of the salients we have introduced while searching for routes around open conflict.

Teach yourself and learn more
. (Renaissance learning)

Develop peer to peer tools for accelerated learning - P2Pedu
. (Netcohort Institute)

And an acknowledgment of how little we really know
. (we be ignorant)

"Education: that which reveals to the wise, and conceals from the stupid, the vast limits of their knowledge." - Mark Twain

The days of common education, where boredom and authority are used to create wage slaves, are almost over. The days when being a wage slave had any value have already started to fade into memory. You are the vanguard of a new movement, and you are proceeding for your own good and the good of those you love.

Perhaps we need a William Shakespeare style, Henry V Agincourt speech:


Enter the KING

WESTMORELAND. O that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work to-day!

KING. What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin;
If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

.

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