A Good Leader
Entry by: Seaside Scribbler
28th August 2015
LS ARCHIVES EXAMPLE 874
"To Be A Good Leader, Round 10 Essay, By Mia Tazin
Back in the days when people voted for their leaders life must have been difficult. How did they know what a person was really like inside? All they saw was a carefully constructed plinth of lies on which stood a person, usually a man. The chosen leader would be surrounded by mostly loyal acolytes, who'd prop them up and write their speeches and stand behind them, smug, as the leader faced a bank of cameras. And often, at the first hint of trouble, they'd run a mile and disassociate themselves from the entire party. And the parties themselves, not much to choose between them, the leaders spending more time arguing with and putting each other down than actually BEING leaders.
I'd have hated living in those days. No fairness, even in the so-called democracies.
Things changed in 2099, when global crises after global crises had caused war, death, disease, ruination of the earth, and
Here, I have to stop typing. Every single word feels forced. The essay is due in tomorrow, as part of my Leader 2150 training. This is about the 10th beginning I've started. I've tried dictating, I've tried hand writing (I'm one of the few who can still write by hand, having come from a very traditional family. I, along with my siblings, was taught to sew, cook and write. Our parents said we'd need these skills if the 'shit ever hit the fan', an archaic expression that Father loves.) but I'm now relying on a good old NewSlate, an old model, but a very reliable one. It's like one of the old fashioned tablets but has extra features.
Musn't digress. I have to pass the tests, which means I have to write a decent essay on being a good leader, basically proving that I understand why things changed and why life now is SO MUCH BETTER. The trouble is, I don't agree. I would have loved to live in that time of chaos, that time of free will, that messy, fun, unpredicatable time when humans could be humans instead of being constantly moderated, molded, trained, taught to obey. I imagine the reaction to this from a reader in the past, say about 2015, the year to which I've traced my direct lineage. They'd not believe a word of it! Timetravel still hasn't been mastered so I'm safe from the scorn of the past.
I know exactly what they want me to write. They want me to show I am good Leader material. That I follow the rules and will do exactly what I'm meant to do. From birth, this has been my path, when my family had no choice but to provide a trainee. I blame Father, for all of his ideals he was weak-willed there at the end, and in turn for a new heart he gave them me. Funny how staring death in the face changes things.... I don't blame him, anyway. The other choices available to me were joining my siblings at the WorkStation, churning out packages. Of clothes, food packets, vitamins which would then be distributed to the people. I'd go crazy and be sent away to wherever they send crazy people. They say it's a seaside 'resort' - like the old days - but I know differently. Extermination camps have different names now but essentially that's just what they are. If you're not useful, society has no use for you.
I imagine someone in the past being horrified by this but think, if you're in, say 2015, is it that far away? Feeling a tad overcrowded on Earth yet? Lots of people around who cannot take over themselves? If I remember from the illegal reading I did in the Leader School Library, it was about 2015 when 'Do not resusitate' was first mooted. I think there was a headline that said something like 'Doctors Told To Offer DNR to the Over 75s'. I'd like to ask someone from 2015 where they thought THAT would lead...
I'm digressing horribly. This essay will not write itself. I have to write about why it's a great idea be willing to undergo corrective brain surgery as a Leader, just in case you start to feel like a 'normal' human and have scruples about Leading the way you've been taught. The problem is, the more I've learnt about Leading, the more awful it is. I've got through the first ten rounds and there are only two more now. This, the second to last one is where we get plonked in a room with whatever kind of writing instruments we choose and told to sum up our entire training in one essay. We're told it's the last time we will truly have private thoughts (no wonder I'm digressing then, my every thought has been controlled until today) and that the room we're in has no recording equipment. They told us that we need to prove we can still think ourselves despite all the Brain Training. And I believe this - I mean, it's a good idea to examine us on our own, no thought help at all.
It's a strange feeling. The more I write, the more I WANT to write. Like I've got all this stuff that's been building up inside me during the last year of Leader Training. 'How to be a good leader' is suddenly so much harder to express. It feels as if my head is going to burst! And to have this last bit of freedom, before I'm properly allowed in to the Building.... it's good. It's a good feeling. The essay can wait, just a little longer.
I'm going to imagine that I am, indeed, talking to someone from 2015. It's the uear I'd go back to, if I could, and find my last birth ancestor. I could describe Society to you, but it'd take too long. Let me tell you instead, about my family and about how I got Chosen. Obviously there's no random birth anymore and at our level of society my parents were allowed to choose four children. They could choose everything, from looks to intelligence. As the eldest they got me best of everything, all from A1 genes. My siblings all got A2, as you're only allowed one A1 per family. It's a little confusing, I guess, but it's normal to us. My siblings and I get on well, from similar genes.
When Father needed a new heart he didn't have enough Coin to pay, so he made a deal. His friend in the Building needed one more applicant for Leader School and could get a new heart. That applicant was me! everyone says I am lucky but I'll let you into a little secret. I'm not lucky, not at all.
When you become a Leader, you become a slave to Society. Your very thoughts are controlled, your brain is molded, your life belongs to them. There's some inner sanctum that only the applicants form the last two rounds go into, and once you go in, you don't come out again. The ones who are not chosen go to that 'resort' I mentioned earlier. That's what the rumour is, anyway. Once you are allowed to know those secrets, well, that's it. They cannot let you out again. So I've no choice but to continue. From the moment you begin training, you belong to Leader School and its trainers.
I'm running out of time. I've only got an hour now to write my essay, but the words are feeling further and further away from my grasp, those words I am supposed to write.
I'll tell you the rest - if you are chosen, you are hooked up to the system and you are a Leader until you die. We've not managed to beat death yet. Maybe in the next century. When they think you are dying, they get the next applicant ready. Our present Leader, Mo Sin, is OLD. Some say about 120 years old. I wanted to be next but suddenly I am not so sure. This last bit of free thought has made me think again. There is so MUCH I'd like to tell you, now...
Leaders cannot see their families again. The families can see them, through their Screens, every single day, greeting Society, reminding them that what they do is for the good of all, reminding them of the rules, giving out medals, giving out punishments, if necessary. Leaders always dress in black, the colour of purity, and always, always smile. They can lull us with their voice, as they make a new rule which cuts off yet more of their freedom and
There's a weird noise coming from outside the door. It sounds like clicking. Metal wheels? Maybe it's lunch coming early! They did say we'd get fed ater finsihing our essays, But I've not pressed Send yet, to submit it to the School. Shit. How do I delete everything I just wrote? If anyone reads this.... what have I been thinking?
I can't delete it. I need to get
The door's opening. I know now, what this essay was all about. It was nothing to do with our knowledge. It was a test of us, of "
NOTE: APPLICANT TERMINATED.
FAILURE 2487 THOUGHTS NOT CONTROLLED
"To Be A Good Leader, Round 10 Essay, By Mia Tazin
Back in the days when people voted for their leaders life must have been difficult. How did they know what a person was really like inside? All they saw was a carefully constructed plinth of lies on which stood a person, usually a man. The chosen leader would be surrounded by mostly loyal acolytes, who'd prop them up and write their speeches and stand behind them, smug, as the leader faced a bank of cameras. And often, at the first hint of trouble, they'd run a mile and disassociate themselves from the entire party. And the parties themselves, not much to choose between them, the leaders spending more time arguing with and putting each other down than actually BEING leaders.
I'd have hated living in those days. No fairness, even in the so-called democracies.
Things changed in 2099, when global crises after global crises had caused war, death, disease, ruination of the earth, and
Here, I have to stop typing. Every single word feels forced. The essay is due in tomorrow, as part of my Leader 2150 training. This is about the 10th beginning I've started. I've tried dictating, I've tried hand writing (I'm one of the few who can still write by hand, having come from a very traditional family. I, along with my siblings, was taught to sew, cook and write. Our parents said we'd need these skills if the 'shit ever hit the fan', an archaic expression that Father loves.) but I'm now relying on a good old NewSlate, an old model, but a very reliable one. It's like one of the old fashioned tablets but has extra features.
Musn't digress. I have to pass the tests, which means I have to write a decent essay on being a good leader, basically proving that I understand why things changed and why life now is SO MUCH BETTER. The trouble is, I don't agree. I would have loved to live in that time of chaos, that time of free will, that messy, fun, unpredicatable time when humans could be humans instead of being constantly moderated, molded, trained, taught to obey. I imagine the reaction to this from a reader in the past, say about 2015, the year to which I've traced my direct lineage. They'd not believe a word of it! Timetravel still hasn't been mastered so I'm safe from the scorn of the past.
I know exactly what they want me to write. They want me to show I am good Leader material. That I follow the rules and will do exactly what I'm meant to do. From birth, this has been my path, when my family had no choice but to provide a trainee. I blame Father, for all of his ideals he was weak-willed there at the end, and in turn for a new heart he gave them me. Funny how staring death in the face changes things.... I don't blame him, anyway. The other choices available to me were joining my siblings at the WorkStation, churning out packages. Of clothes, food packets, vitamins which would then be distributed to the people. I'd go crazy and be sent away to wherever they send crazy people. They say it's a seaside 'resort' - like the old days - but I know differently. Extermination camps have different names now but essentially that's just what they are. If you're not useful, society has no use for you.
I imagine someone in the past being horrified by this but think, if you're in, say 2015, is it that far away? Feeling a tad overcrowded on Earth yet? Lots of people around who cannot take over themselves? If I remember from the illegal reading I did in the Leader School Library, it was about 2015 when 'Do not resusitate' was first mooted. I think there was a headline that said something like 'Doctors Told To Offer DNR to the Over 75s'. I'd like to ask someone from 2015 where they thought THAT would lead...
I'm digressing horribly. This essay will not write itself. I have to write about why it's a great idea be willing to undergo corrective brain surgery as a Leader, just in case you start to feel like a 'normal' human and have scruples about Leading the way you've been taught. The problem is, the more I've learnt about Leading, the more awful it is. I've got through the first ten rounds and there are only two more now. This, the second to last one is where we get plonked in a room with whatever kind of writing instruments we choose and told to sum up our entire training in one essay. We're told it's the last time we will truly have private thoughts (no wonder I'm digressing then, my every thought has been controlled until today) and that the room we're in has no recording equipment. They told us that we need to prove we can still think ourselves despite all the Brain Training. And I believe this - I mean, it's a good idea to examine us on our own, no thought help at all.
It's a strange feeling. The more I write, the more I WANT to write. Like I've got all this stuff that's been building up inside me during the last year of Leader Training. 'How to be a good leader' is suddenly so much harder to express. It feels as if my head is going to burst! And to have this last bit of freedom, before I'm properly allowed in to the Building.... it's good. It's a good feeling. The essay can wait, just a little longer.
I'm going to imagine that I am, indeed, talking to someone from 2015. It's the uear I'd go back to, if I could, and find my last birth ancestor. I could describe Society to you, but it'd take too long. Let me tell you instead, about my family and about how I got Chosen. Obviously there's no random birth anymore and at our level of society my parents were allowed to choose four children. They could choose everything, from looks to intelligence. As the eldest they got me best of everything, all from A1 genes. My siblings all got A2, as you're only allowed one A1 per family. It's a little confusing, I guess, but it's normal to us. My siblings and I get on well, from similar genes.
When Father needed a new heart he didn't have enough Coin to pay, so he made a deal. His friend in the Building needed one more applicant for Leader School and could get a new heart. That applicant was me! everyone says I am lucky but I'll let you into a little secret. I'm not lucky, not at all.
When you become a Leader, you become a slave to Society. Your very thoughts are controlled, your brain is molded, your life belongs to them. There's some inner sanctum that only the applicants form the last two rounds go into, and once you go in, you don't come out again. The ones who are not chosen go to that 'resort' I mentioned earlier. That's what the rumour is, anyway. Once you are allowed to know those secrets, well, that's it. They cannot let you out again. So I've no choice but to continue. From the moment you begin training, you belong to Leader School and its trainers.
I'm running out of time. I've only got an hour now to write my essay, but the words are feeling further and further away from my grasp, those words I am supposed to write.
I'll tell you the rest - if you are chosen, you are hooked up to the system and you are a Leader until you die. We've not managed to beat death yet. Maybe in the next century. When they think you are dying, they get the next applicant ready. Our present Leader, Mo Sin, is OLD. Some say about 120 years old. I wanted to be next but suddenly I am not so sure. This last bit of free thought has made me think again. There is so MUCH I'd like to tell you, now...
Leaders cannot see their families again. The families can see them, through their Screens, every single day, greeting Society, reminding them that what they do is for the good of all, reminding them of the rules, giving out medals, giving out punishments, if necessary. Leaders always dress in black, the colour of purity, and always, always smile. They can lull us with their voice, as they make a new rule which cuts off yet more of their freedom and
There's a weird noise coming from outside the door. It sounds like clicking. Metal wheels? Maybe it's lunch coming early! They did say we'd get fed ater finsihing our essays, But I've not pressed Send yet, to submit it to the School. Shit. How do I delete everything I just wrote? If anyone reads this.... what have I been thinking?
I can't delete it. I need to get
The door's opening. I know now, what this essay was all about. It was nothing to do with our knowledge. It was a test of us, of "
NOTE: APPLICANT TERMINATED.
FAILURE 2487 THOUGHTS NOT CONTROLLED
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