
Scripture written by strangers, consulted like gospel before every registration window opens.
Before you register for anything, you open the sacred text — a page of five-star and one-star reviews written by strangers who took the class two years ago, and somehow their word decides your whole semester. A professor with a glowing rating and "GOAT, do the readings" becomes scripture. You build your schedule around whoever the reviews called kind, and skip the one they called ruthless.
The Hierophant's wisdom always arrives secondhand, passed down through people who came before you and wrote it all down so you wouldn't have to learn it the hard way. Trust the tradition today — it's usually right, or right enough to be useful, and it's built from real students, not marketing.
what may cross your path
Wisdom from strangers can point the way. My own eyes still have to see it.
Five stars and a glowing headline talked you into this class, and none of it held up — the reviews were outdated, or written by someone with a semester nothing like yours, or, you begin to suspect, written by the professor's own friends the same week they were posted. The sacred text turned out to be a rumor with good formatting.
This is the Hierophant's tradition gone stale, quoted without anyone checking the date on it. Old wisdom, repeated confidently, can still lead you somewhere wrong. The lesson isn't to stop trusting the reviews — it's to read them the way you'd read anything secondhand, with one eye on when it was actually written.
what may cross your path
Old wisdom can still mislead. I check the date before I believe it.