Work
OK.
If working is such a wonderful
endeavor, then why is the imagery
intended to depict it so
unflattering? Working like a
dog, A slave to his job, Beast of
burden, Working stiff,
Workaholic. The same can be
said of work-place experiences: Job
related stress, Overworked and
underpaid, Working yourself to
death, All work and no play...
Not exactly positive
reinforcement. Yet the opposite
of "work" fares no
better: Unemployed, Jobless,
Laid off, Terminated.
Nothing having to do with work is
ever portrayed positively, but
rather, more often than not, as a
chore to be endured: "...I
can't go. I have to work",
Working on your algebra, Back to
work. And when there is a
positive image, it doesn't have
anything to do with actually
working at all: Labor of
love,"Work with me,
baby!", That'll work, Works
like a charm. The word can
even have a positively hideous
connotation: "Arbit
Macht Frei" (work makes
free), as displayed on the front
gate of Auschwitz. So much for
semantics...
This
seemingly ambiguous and rather
schizoid description of
"working" says more
about us then it does about work,
namely that we not only don't
know what it means, but we don't
even know how to define what it
actually entails! My wife doesn't
work, yet she has the world's
hardest job (raising our three
young children and living with
me). Some people play at work
(professional athletes and
musicians), while others get paid
not to work (social security and
unemployment benefits
recipients). There are those who
work but don't get paid
(volunteers), and those who get
paid but don't do any work
(middle and top-level corporate
management). Some like their job
but dislike working, others work
hard and diligently at illegal
endeavors. And, of course, there
are those who do the Lord's work.
There are good jobs and bad jobs,
odd-jobs and temp jobs, scam jobs
and hand jobs, ring jobs and blow
jobs. "Doing a job" has
a sinister and negative
connotation and can land you in
jail, while "Having a
job" is positive and will
get you dates. And all for the
changing of the verb.
Then
there are the many whose daily
work imparts unto them a sense of
dignity and worth. To these
people work is cathartic, a form
of self-help therapy for
deep-seated insecurities, while
simultaneously providing Freudian
reinforcement and justification
for behavior normally associated
with penis envy. Getting paid for
this neurosis only encourages
perpetuation of it. You want
dignity and worth? Then learn to
play rhythm-and-blues on the
saxophone.
In
the final analysis, working is
rather silly. It's difficult to
define or even describe clearly,
it's based on the ideological
troika of mortal ego, guilt and
insecurity, and, in any event, it
never seems to be finished! Ones
"Life's Work" just
might yield something worthwhile,
but for the vast majority,
probably not. The noble, though
expendable, proletariat is left
to wonder at career's end,
"Was that it!?" All in
all, working has always struck me
as a rather pointless way of
asserting oneself, offering only
false enrichment, and delivering
little in the way of metaphysical
need. Work is for those who can
do little else-like caged mice
running endlessly on an exercise
wheel-and my contempt for it is
exceeded only by my inability to
keep a job!
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