And this feeling of the atomic self, equipped with nothing but a technique for self-consolation, means that you have no time for the sorrows of others.
I wouldn't expect the Ways to be drawn to or equipped for the task of the victim-centred narrative. But that's what we need if learning about cults is what we want.
I have to ask every day: what's my responsibility, with this strange platform, cobbled together out of critique? I spend half of my working life burning the roof. How do I show the less visible work of those I admire, in the clay and mud, shoring up foundations?
They begin to regard their students as idiots, children, incompetents. They begin to loathe them not only for their immaturity, but even more intensely because they are dependent on that immaturity, that devotion, for their daily bread. They're trapped.