Once upon a time there was a horse. It was a marvelous horse, tall in stature, proud in character, rich brown in color. People came from miles around to see this horse, as it was the only one they had ever seen. It was the only one in existence.
Scholars decided to study the horse to see what could be learned about it, but there was so much to the mighty creature they decided to each address a portion of the horse to save time. So one studied the nose, another the flanks, another the hoofs, another the ears, and together they marveled at the details they uncovered and shared their discoveries with each other. The one who studied the nose spoke of its shape and nostrils, the one who studied the hooves spoke about the curve of the hoof, and the difference between the hoof tissue and that of the rest of the leg, the one who studied the ears spoke of their ability to turn in various directions and the cartilage he could feel through the flesh on the outside. Each was amazed at the living breathing creature, and how many facets it had.
So much so, that when they went back to their own homes, they began to try to describe this animal to their friends. These descriptions were so astounding that they began to hear of others who wanted to come and study with the scholars about this horse they had inspected. The one who had studied the nose could describe the nose in detail, but the details about the rest (since it had not been his specific area) were more vague in his mind. Likewise, the others found that when they were apart they could describe the area of study they had each undertaken, but it was difficult to describe the whole horse, and even harder to describe the awe they had found in its presence.
The scholars decided that they should band together to properly communicate the entirety of the horse to their individual students, all in hope that they would be able to recreate in their students the awe they had each felt. But to do so, they needed each other's expertise. The one who studied the hoof was in need of the one who studied the ears, and the one who studied the tail needed help from the one who studied the flanks, et c. The horse was too much for anyone to grasp completely, so they followed their studies in the various horse-disciplines, but always with an eye to make sense of not just the whole of the parts, but the life that that whole seemed to contain.
So the scholars began a school for students to learn about horses. There was no real point to this study apart from the amazing knowledge itself. It would not directly give anyone special advantage in the pursuit of wealth or power, but they found that when you got a glimpse of the living breathing horse itself, you were astounded and awestruck. This experience became a motivator for the scholars to continue to learn and grow in all areas of knowledge, and as a result, knowing about the horse as a whole seemed to give one a better understanding of life in general. Employers began to look for people who knew about the horse because those people always seemed to be in awe about life in general, and this made them more interested in learning other things, like how to market products or design Powerpoint presentations, and those seemed to guarantee sales. (oddly, as the years went by, the more marketing and presenting these horse-scholars-turned-businessmen did, the less enthusiasm they had for horse-studies, but ironically the less interest they had for business practices too, and most ended up watching a lot of cable television and muttering to themselves, but that is another story.)
As the generations went by, the students grew and began to teach about the horse themselves, and, as might be expected, they mostly discussed the aspect of the animal that their individual teachers had studied the most. So there came to be schools of thought about the horse. The “students of the nose,” as they were called, came to believe that their part of the animal was the most important, as did the “hoof scholars” and the “mane institute” – and they passed their best information on to the next generations of students as best they could, writing in the “New Albany Journal of Horses," all about their individual studies, and about how each thought his study really got to the most fascinating and essential parts of the horse.
After several more generations, the various schools decided to separate to pursue their respective studies. This came about because each scholar began to think that his individual area of study was not only the most important in knowing the horse, but was also somehow limited by close proximity with the scholarship of the department nearest him. One can’t study the hoof completely without constantly running into the “leg scholarship” guys, and one can’t study the mane of the horse without always having to keep the nose, mouth, and eye guys “out of your hair.” (which is, of course, how that phrase came to be).
So, the various schools broke the tenuous connections they had held through inter-school communications, the New Albany Journal, and the National Horse Conference, to pursue their study of the horse without the limitations of the others. They each founded their own journals, started conferences specifically for their individual area of study (The Hoof College held its first annual Hoof and Nail Conference that later became an international event). This made it possible to really dig deep into the details of the various aspects of the horse. The mane scholars found that there were many different lengths and widths of hair in the mane, and the hoof fellows found that there were all sorts of diseases that could be addressed by proper care for the hoof, and the flank guys studied the ribcage showing through the thin skin on the flanks, and speculated about what could be found underneath the ribs.
So the awe for the life of the original horse was slowly transferred to the awe for the details the scholars could show, and then eventually awe for the scholars themselves. Just look at the insight, the detail, the well-organized facts about the various aspects of the horse! The schools even began to compete with each other over how many details they could catalogue. Also, in their free time they established football teams made up of students from the various schools to give them momentary diversions from their studies. These teams built huge followings and in some ways overshadowed the original purpose of the horse studies, but that is another story.
Eventually the horse studies became known simply as “the studies” since everyone knew they were all about the horse, and the various schools became known by the specialty they each offered. The Nose School, the Tail Way, the Hoof Gymnasium, the Mane Institute… and each found that by studying a particular aspect, students became quite good at certain aspects of life. Those who studied the nose became skilled at predicting diseases in people, those who studied the tail found that they could build great violin bows, those who studied the hoof found their way as manicurists, and those who studied the mane seemed to become experts in cosmetology.
As centuries went on, an entire culture rose up around those who were doctors, musicians, cosmetologists, et c., and a certain demand sprang up for these abilities. Eventually scholars simply taught medicine, music, and hair-styling without bothering to make reference to the parts of the horse at all. The courses that connected the vocations to the horse itself were ignored or discontinued in hopes of making the students’ years of study as efficient as possible so that they could enter into their desired jobs as quickly as possible. Eventually, there were so many schools cropping up, the competition among the various schools became quite fierce. The schools who received fewer students found that they were not able to pay all their faculty, so since they did not want to shut down, they hired marketing firms to bolster their images and attract students. As soon as one school went this route, others had to follow, since their market share was becoming threatened. So they all turned to advertisers and marketers who would write ads and marketing sloagans for each school, and be paid by them all. They would get paid huge sums for, “We noses can get you a better job than those ear guys.” and other witty aphorisms.
There were still some schools that attempted to connect studies to the parts of the horse that originally inspired them, even though these schools were considered out-of-touch with the mainstream, and taught useless information. One day, at the Mane Institute of Technology (at this late date, few knew anymore what the word Mane actually referred to -- the Institute, or MIT, was now most highly regarded for doing the physics and chemestry work needed to produce acne products), a graduate student, deep in the recesses of the library was going over ancient references to hair follicles and discovered the definition of something called "the mane." He asked his study partner, “just what is this "mane" anyway?” The partner, a junior, had no real idea. "And it is in the name of our school, too." And the two of them began to wonder why they were studying follicles, hair thickness, and length, and began to ask what was both north and south of the mane. Their faculty at first resisted their questions, but then began to be curious as well. One called over a scholar from the Left Ear Institute at a football game their teams were playing, and asked, “What do the names of our schools have to do with education?” “Who cares? Go Earholes!” he shouted as they scored.
But the Mane Man was not daunted – he began to imagine what the field of study would look like if all of them gave up for a moment pursuing the studies of music, medicine, law, and glue manufacturing, and got together to pool their knowledge about the ancient and lost arts of nose, ear, flank (no one studied this one anymore), hoof, tail, etc. He formulated a conference and invited the top scholars from each of the present schools, and these debated the differences among their various fields. After some time they were able to piece together on paper a picture of their combined subjects, and make educated guesses about which parts were missing. The result was a very awkward and fractured picture of a horse. They were each amazed and a strange awe swept over them all. Could this be what the ancients were about? It was an amazing sight, and one that none of them had ever seen before. “It’s beautiful,” said one, and all agreed. “But what good is it?” asked another. There was silence around the room.
No comments:
Post a Comment