An Army of Me

"How long would it take to train an army?" - Jack on Lost

Haven't we all had that thought in some form or another? Usually in a benevolent fashion, though, something along the lines of "I could make the world a better place if only I could convince a whole bunch of people to do what needed to be done."
I have this thought a lot, sort of, on a small scale. Often in parking lots, thinking, why can't everyone just put their cart in the cart corral? Is it really such a chore? Or at work, I think that way all the time; the difference is there I used to actually act upon it, whereas now I have been hovering at the frustration level for quite some time. How many times do you have to say to people "Kazaa is bad, and get some anti-virus software", and still they come to me "Yeah, my computer is acting funny, and there are all these pop-ups, and my homepage keeps changing." Is it my failure if they refuse to listen to common sense?
But what I really need right now is an army of masseuses (masseuse? Is it like moose? I have never had to pluralize that word before); 11 days straight on the treadmill in pursuit of the Biggest Loser crown (4 weeks to go after tomorrow) is taking a toll.
Anyway, I think the answer to how long it takes to train an army was answered to some extent during the last season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. So, watchers of Lost, in TV time expect a big confrontation for the season finale, with a bunch people lying in pools of blood on the ground and big questions as to who is dead and who is alive, nevermind the question of who will be reincarnated as a spectral presence for season 3 of the show.