It struck me with a ferocious intensity, that the ordinary teacher who year after year mouths the same set of ideas (give or take a few new ones) slowly comes to resemble the chinese room that artificial intelligence speaks about. The chinese room metaphor, visualizes an intelligent machine that replies all questions posed to it in chinese, as though it understood chinese very well. (This thought needs to be expanded).
I shuddered and made a note that I should run away as soon as I could. And if this was impossible, I should create a new hide within which I could shield myself from the onslaught of mediocrity and repetetive inanities. A place in which I could read Larkin and go back to feeling happy about the things that brought me happiness!
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