A Student's Lament

Oh, hear this tale so pure and true,
And let its wisdom speak to you –
For wisest is the one who knows
How far a little knowledge goes.
A week ago, I read a case.
The Saviour of the Human Race
If I could solve it, I would be.
No ill or want or poverty
Would ever strike this nation more;
But happiness from shore to shore
Would mark the land. Though scholars bent
The greatest part of their intent
To helping cure each scurvy ill,
Though statesmen gave it all their will,
Though they were learned, clever men,
And years spent on it five times ten,
Still, where they failed, we shall succeed –
A single night is all we need.
And we need neither work nor strive,
But trust in Porter’s forces five –
The secret weapon we possess
In lieu of toil and earnestness.
An hour think we, and we say,
“To wish the country’s ills away
We only need to educate
The masses. Let us meditate
On how to do this, for, if done,
The nation by itself shall run;
No poverty, no foeticide,
But joyful mirth on every side.”
How strange that this efficient plan
Occurred to not a single man!
Ah! If the PM only knew
Our wisdom, then as true as true
He could dismiss his Cabinet
With little worry or regret,
And act upon our sage advice:
It would be simple and concise.
“Come, educate!” “Ban foeticide!”
“Bar poverty!” “Abolish pride!”
“Propose a bill in Parliament
To make all criminals repent.”
“Make peace, for war is but a waste
Of time, and one in poor taste.”
“Make all pollution go away.”
“Command the crops to grow today.”
And so we wisely solved the case,
But saw on our Professor’s face
No silent smile of happy pride;
Instead, he did his students chide.
Alas, he did not recognize
That we were clever, bright and wise.
And so, our simple answer spurned,
We to our empty rooms returned;
Alas! For none appreciate
Our words, so few and true and great.

Checkmate

I can't play chess. I'm not bad at the game. I'm appalling. People who are bad at the game have their men taken systematically off the board and their King surrounded by five of the opposing pieces for a checkmate. I, on the other hand, seldom lose pieces. I face a checkmate in the first two moves with all my men still in play and not one of them of any use.

Chess seems to require faculties which I simply do not have. I get along all right when it comes to things like addition sums and learning nursery rhymes, and even an occasional game of checkers, but chess has always been to me one of those deep and incomprehensible works of art that you admire deeply, but whose meaning you know will always elude you.

For one thing, chess requires that you think about several things at once. I have never succeeded at that for more than five seconds. Usually, I concentrate on not losing my King, sacrificing Rook after Pawn after Bishop until the inevitable happens. Sometimes I decide to vary my strategy. Then I launch a full-fledged attack with both Knights and the Queen, completely oblivious to the advances the opposing Bishops are making on my King.

On a few happy occasions I have managed to think about both attack and defence for fully three moves. Then I manage to get in a check, but in the euphoria following that I lose all sense of proportion and send my men on reckless sorties that lead to a rapid change in my fortunes.

In the end, though, it all boils down to one thing: the moment when the other person says, "Check," and I, searching for a means of escape and finding none, think that it is simply impossible that I should lose more spectacularly than this - only to be proven wrong with the very next game I play.