Chipper chatter–false and fleeting–floats through stale air to bounce off white walls, as a tumbleweed of diversity rolls by; each mind of these Nursing students buzzes frantically with well-worn and paradoxical tools: hyper-activity tempered by docility, impatience tempered by active-listening gimmics.
The mice-like would-be-medics dart from one learning-station to the next–then from room to room–in the Health and Sciences building at Grossmont College.
Day after day, month after month–for two years–asyncronous, hurried strides propel the academic cannon-fodder forward, preparing them for lifetime of asyncronous, hurried striding.
An ironic empathy-graveyard
While mentally shuffling through flashcards of physiology, et al., and preparing to parrot inapt decrees of introductory customer-service-theory, the hope-filled and time-strapped dash–entirely uncaring–past so many human-traffic-cones, aiming to meticulously prove worthy of admittance into the occult monopoly of our culture’s healthcare monolith, hoping to learn the monolith’s complicated, frustrating, proprietary, copywrited secrets to happiness and health #Irony
History repeats: potters into medical-professionals
Just as the backs of Marx’s potters, rounded to a fault by that which was a potter’s lot in life, could never have straightened to admire their craft on a buyer’s top shelf–so too will the hearts and bowels of these “medical-professionals” never enjoy the sillier and shinier of snake-oils from the monolith, but rather the graduated Nursing students will soon, instead, loathe a life of chronic physical pain, and stunning mental dis-ease, thanks to a maniacal disease-control-industry which ceaselessly stumbles towards two main aims:
1. To shield and stifle the mounting symptoms of unbalanced stress, socially anesthetizing slave-classes into being “more productive”
2. To mask, for the vampiric affluent, the ill-effects of a life led by lumbering leisure and glazed gluttony
In one way, the respective paths of potters and pill-promoters diverge: unlike the potters, the pill-promoters can in fact afford the end-product, as the self-serving monolith will one day offer, to each spiraling serf, free disease control–then swallow each and every former-student’s potential to ever live a happy, healthy life.
However, many of these students will have to change careers, when the industry that had once lacked lackeys ends up with a surplus: for many Grossmont College Nursing students, by the time they master the drudgery of theory and hope to vie for a seat amid the drudgery of fact, their chosen profession will have been beseiged by many more manic-mice, whose degrees are good only in one flooded, gated industry.