This is the quandary: We could accept the narrative explanation. But it is much more fun if we don’t.
All the usual disclaimers go here, including the bit about how it all goes downhill from there.
Actually, I think doomed from the outset is the better phrase.
What? It’s a Bug with nipples. And nipple rings. Where can you possibly go from there, save straight into the chasm?
Sisyphus, stay!
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Huber, Adam. “Ring Around the Dopey”. Bug Martini. 20 May 2015.
The fictional Jebediah Springfield famously explained, “A noble spirit embiggens the smallest man.” In the modern day, wise men like Bill Maher question the vapidity of the word “spirit”. Either way, a transfusion seems out of the question:
So, Wisconsin Gov. Scott Walker (R) is blocking health care benefits for low-income families in order to help them “live the American dream” and Gov. Pence is curtailing food aid in order “ennoble” people.
How very gracious of them.
In theory, the “give someone a fish” adage sounds quite nice, and in a booming economy with low unemployment and broad job opportunities, we can have a credible conversation about work requirements and the safety net.
But Pence, like Walker, runs the risk of sounding horribly out of touch – their argument is predicated on the assumption that the economy is in great shape, and everyone who wants a job can easily get one. I suspect most of the American mainstream would offer a different assessment of economic conditions.
(Benen)
We might also note that while once upon a time perhaps it was possible to teach a man to fish, such that he could do the work properly and earn a living, in a day. In modern times, though, that isn’t quite so easy. That is to say, we can certainly test the thesis, but probably need not: Go out on the street and give a job to the first unemployed person you find.
The objections and complications are easily predictable.
Who says that person is qualified, for instance? Maybe she was a waitress before the restaurant closed to make room for the McDonald’s in the Walmart, or he was a janitor who cleaned the school restrooms before being laid off for budget cuts. In either case, though, you need a “people person” with strong reading, speaking, and interpersonal skills, and maybe, just maybe you can teach that person to solicit telephone survey responses and appropriately record the data in a day.
Or maybe not. Either way, that person is going to need to eat at some point during the day.
And, you know, in most markets you’re probably going to be paying that employee less than they need to continue living in order to do the work.
Dystopia is burning, which ought to be a good thing except it is burning with the passions of the stage and just wants to dance! Which, of course, ought to be about as inspiring as Rush Limbaugh in a thong leotard.
Then again, one would think that at some point, prostitution would be the sort of thing only humans could do for each other, but I think society has yet to get through polygamy, incest, and bestiality before moving onto giant robot anime porn. Oh, wait. Rule Thirty-Four. Serves me right for trying to steal a line.
I don’t know, something about mechaphilia or mechasexual goes here. Still, in the Weiner dystopia at least the labor conditions for human prostitutes has improved. To the other, though, it would seem there is not so much difference between the Luddite punch line and a PG-rated future, which on this occasion means post-Galtian.
In the end, perhaps that is the point; people are what the really pointless labor exists for. Maybe that is why we must presume Sisyphus happy. Fruitless labor? Hey, it’s job security.
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Weiner, Zach. Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal. 18 November 2014.
Futility is the essence of the Camusite Absurd. And, yes, Sisyphus is happy. Even when he is unhappy.
Dan Savage offers Sisyphan Texans a bit of advice:
1. To homophobic parents who bring their kids to antigay hate rallies: You tempt the God of Irony when you put your prepubescent children in antigay T-shirts. Seriously. That could come back to haunt you one day. But, hey, that pic will make for a hilarious #TBT on your grown-up gay kid’s Instagram account one day—provided, of course, that his hateful parents didn’t drive him to suicide before he could come out. (Like Chris Rock said: “Whoever you hate will end up in your family. You don’t like gays? You’re gonna have a gay son. You don’t like Puerto Ricans? Your daughter’s gonna come home with Livin’ La Vida Loca!”)
2. So you reserve the right to discriminate against gay people? You don’t want gay people patronizing your businesses? Great! Put that fact in your ads, put it on a sign in your window, mention it in all of your marketing materials. But you won’t, of course, because when it comes right down to it … you’re a bunch of fucking cowards.
Just, you know. Don’t blame the children for being assholes. That is acquired behavior, learned from parents who have no earthly business raising children.
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Savage, Dan. “Antigay Haters Reserve the Right to Discriminate Against Homosexuals on the Down Low”. Slog. 4 November 2014.
Image credit Photos and collage by Brad Pritch.
This Is 