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 {{quote|{{d|Passion|/ˈpaʃ(ə)n/|n|}} comes to us from the Middle English, and thence from Old French and thence from the late Latin ''pati'' ‘suffer’.}}
-“Passion” meant, originally, to ''suffer'' and ultimately, in the Baby Jesus’ case, to ''die'' in the pursuit of something you care about. Its secondary meaning is to “allow, acquiesce, permit, submit”. To give yourself over to something. So, if you really are prepared for a life or torment, irritation, disappointment and, at the limit, extinction in the course of ''giving yourself'' to the pursuit of [[middle management]] in an international organisation by all means, follow your passion. But we think it more likely that most of you “suffer” your working life in a way which wouldn’t justify the usual Monday motivation: by accident; inadvertently, finding that, in purblinded-ly groping along in your mid-twenties without a real sense of purpose but enjoying the status and the opportunities for travel and entertainment, you have painted yourself into the coener of submitting, passionately, to the meat-grinder of multinational life because it has paid you, and conditioned you, for nothing else.
+“Passion” meant, originally, to ''suffer'' and ultimately, in the Baby Jesus’ case, to ''die'' in the pursuit of something you care about. Thus, its secondary meaning is to “allow, acquiesce, permit, submit”. ''To give yourself over to something''.
+So, if you really are prepared for a life or torment, irritation, disappointment and, at the limit, extinction, all in the name of ''giving yourself'' to the pursuit of [[middle management]] in an international organisation — if that is ''really'' what you want — by all means, follow your passion.
+But is it? The [[JC]] thinks it more likely that most of his workmates came to the “suffering” that comprises their working life in not by a sense of some beatific calling writ large across the dusty sweep of the Cosmos, but rather in a way which wouldn’t justify the usual Monday motivation: ''by accident''; inadvertently, thanks to a misadventure discovered too late to reverse a doomed voyage to oblivion. This is the dawning horror of realising what you have done; that, in groping blindly along what seemed to be a steady rail in your early adulthood, without real purpose, but enjoying the status and the opportunities for travel and entertainment it presented, you have painted yourself into the corner from which you must thereafter submit, passionately, to the meat-grinder of multinational life because it has paid you, and conditioned you, for nothing else.