A FIELD TRIP TO LAKE RUBICON

—Where the Children Are No Longer Above Average

—A Field Report with Audible Consequences

INTRODUCTION

Vito Haeckler went to a demonstration in Minneapolis, notebook in pocket, bullhorn slung like a prop that was about to become necessary. Recent statements by local officials—reported straight, not exaggerated—had drifted into open defiance of the federal government. The language was no longer poetic. Words like conflict and war were being used bureaucratically, which is always when things get interesting.

The atmosphere put Vito in mind of the old pastoral voice of Garrison Keillor, the kindly cadence of a place where everything was pleasant and everyone was above average. But reassurance has a darker rhyme.

Lake Wobegon rhymes with Rubicon.

When Julius Caesar crossed the Rubicon, it wasn’t a protest. It was an administrative act. After that, neutrality was no longer an option.

As the crowd gathered, a gentle, folksy tune drifted from a portable speaker nearby. Vito stopped walking.

“LAKE RUBICON”

(pastoral, calm, just off-key enough)

Welcome, friends,

To a pleasant northern place,

Where reassurance is civic policy

And everyone measures just above the mean.

It’s a pleasant evening here, the piano’s been tuned,

the audience is settled—

and all the children are missing.

All opinions pass inspection,

And doubt was quietly retired

For being unconstructive.

It used to be a quiet lake.

Now it’s a crossing point.

Someone moved the signposts

And called it progress.

A Roman once stepped forward—

Didn’t shout, didn’t ask.

History followed later.

They say it’s still polite here.

They say it’s still normal.

But once you cross the water,

You don’t cross back.

Don’t worry though.

Everyone crossing

Is above average as regard to diagnosis in the DSM-5-TR Manual (Fifth Edition, Text Revision)

VITO HAECKLER, MAN-ON-THE-STREET

(bullhorn ON, voice STRIDENT)

ATTENTION. LET’S CLARIFY TERMS.

You keep shouting about THE LONG MARCH THROUGH THE INSTITUTIONS.

So let’s remember what that meant.

NOT PROTESTS.

NOT CROWDS.

INSTITUTIONS.

Institutions with a capital I:

Universities.

Credentialing bodies.

Cultural authorities.

The places that decide what is educated, sane, and permissible.

ONE OF THOSE WAS HIGHER LEARNING.

ANOTHER WAS THE MENTAL INSTITUTION.

Once, they were separate.

One trained the mind.

The other restrained minds that could not be trained.

SOMEWHERE ALONG THE MARCH, THE SIGNS GOT SWAPPED.

Now look around.

Whether these marchers were born misshapen or carefully chose ugliness as an identity is irrelevant. The outcome is identical. SPITE IS A CREDENTIAL. DYSFUNCTION IS A STYLE. HOSTILITY PASSES FOR EXPERTISE.

What once triggered evaluation now earns a microphone.

What once required supervision now issues demands.

THE GATES ARE OPEN BECAUSE THE GUARDS ARE TEACHING THE CLASS.

This is not an insult.

This is an institutional diagnosis.

WHEN HIGHER LEARNING AND THE MENTAL INSTITUTE SHARE A MISSION STATEMENT, THE MARCH IS OVER.

You’re not storming the institution.

YOU ARE THE INSTITUTION.

(bullhorn clicks off)

— Vito Haeckler