An application is a bureaucratic ritual in which one entrusts their fate to the judgment of others. Hope and despair are mailed together, betting one’s future on a return envelope. The moment you press submit is a fine line between courage and folly. By the time your forms arrive, your spirit has usually already sunk.

Seat apportionment is a political magic show that blends popular will and geographic biases in a mixer to concoct nothing but cosmetic fairness. It pacifies minorities with token 'proportional scraps' and dangles 'privileged seats' to the majority in a masterful juggling act. While loudly proclaiming equality before the law, it secretly preserves vested interests within its equations. There is no moment when mathematics becomes such a hidden handmaiden of power as in apportionment. Example: A ruling party decries vote weight disparities while crafting rules that conveniently favor itself.

Appraisal is the sacred ritual through which organizations measure the difference between achievement and sloth, dispensing equal parts praise and reproach. At quarter-end, countless feelings soar untethered from numbers, and a stack of paper decrees human worth. The true purpose is not the appraisal itself, but the spectacle it provides for meetings. Everyone claims to want fairness, yet those who believe in it harbor the deepest doubts.

Appreciation is the ritual of accepting another’s goodwill without apparent strings, while secretly stashing an implicit IOU in your heart. Often used interchangeably with flattery, its genuine warmth is usually misplaced. As a social courtesy, it works wonders, yet hides the burden of repayment wrapped in polite words. Few know the art of true gratitude, and the more one speaks of it, the deeper the debt grows.

Aptitude refers to the ideal self where one’s talents and personality fit perfectly, yet its measurement is nothing but superstition dressed in science. Various tests proclaim "perfect match" like magic while actually slipping through the cracks of statistics. Each questionnaire that tries to define you ultimately narrows human potential instead. In the end, people are sorted into the binary of "apt" or "not apt", and all complexity vanishes.

Arbitration is the ceremony in which two discontented parties sheath their verbal swords on a public stage, exchanging a fragrant bouquet of paperwork and fees. It can be called the art of triumphing over mutual hatred and contradictions at the discretion of a meddlesome third party. In practice, it continues until the loser swallows their grievances and the winner nods vigorously in self-satisfaction. Ultimately, a bizarre peace is forged, in which both claim the banner of justice while secretly nursing their discontent.

Architectural photography is the act of sanctifying inert concrete facades as if they were religious relics, beautifying them through a ceremonial interplay of light and shadow. An empty office tower, when framed by the photographer, is elevated into a futuristic cathedral. Yet this gaze discards the human dramas within and the reality of decay, crafting the fiction of the “perfect edifice.” The pristine glass curtain wall becomes a stage prop that praises the architect’s ambition while concealing flaws in construction. What is truly captured is the artifice of architectural beauty and the magic that makes us forget the harshness of maintenance.

Aristocracy is the system by which those wielding pedigree and wealth don the mask of public good to monopolize privilege. Under the banner of equality and liberty, it fences citizen voices behind gilded bars. It is a theatrical device where refined gentlemen and ladies secretly engineer policy in closed chambers.

Armament is a theme park attraction where states display the flashiest toys of war, boasting of triggers that only they can pull. They claim to ensure safety, yet flood neighboring countries with ornamental cannons that disturb even distant villagers' sleep. The true enemy is the insecurity and vanity that weapons themselves engender, and every treaty is but a sleight of hand to conceal that reality. As the count of armaments grows, someone’s future is inexorably chipped away. The spectacle of gear meant to prevent war thriving like a stage set awaiting conflict is a modern tragicomedy.

Arms control is a theater where nations peer into each other's arsenals while praying for peace. It is a ritual of exchanging certificates of trust and at the same time laying the groundwork for the next arms race. Treaties are monsters with paper spines—giving comfort when signed and returning to scraps when broken. One might call it a farcical tightrope walk between ideals and reality.

An arms race, n. The act of hoarding ever more weapons to loudly proclaim one’s security. Yet each weapon serves as a bat signal, summoning neighbors to mimic the same performance. Intended to guarantee safety, it instead amplifies mutual fear until no one emerges victorious in this grand farce.

Arranged marriage is a social transaction that binds separate families together with ribbons of lineage and profit, ruthlessly eliminating the inconvenient element of love. Preservation of name and assets takes absolute priority, while the couple’s feelings are treated as optional extras. The ceremony that vows eternal love is, in truth, the coldest negotiation table imaginable. The marriage certificate becomes a contract, and the vows are mere liability clauses.