Man, the Working Animal

The most bewildering thing about man is his idea of work and the amount of work he imposes   upon him.   All natural loafs while man alone works for a living.  He works  because  he has to,  because with the  progress  of civilization life gets  incredibly  more  complex with  duties,  responsibilities,  fears,  inhabitations  and  ambition born not  of nature,  but of  human  society.

While I am sitting here before my desk, a pigeon is  flying about a church steeple  before  my window, not  worrying  what it is  going to  have  for lunch.  I know  that my  lunch  is a more  completed  affair than the pigeons  and that the few  articles  of food I take,  involve  thousands  of people  at work  and a highly  complicated system  of cultivation, merchandising,   transportation, delivery and preparation.  That is why it is harder for man to get food them for animals.  Nevertheless if a jungle  beast were let  loose  in a city and gained some  apprehension of what  busy human  life was all about,  he would  feel  a good deal of skepticism  and bewilderment  about this human society.

With exception of a few draught horses or buffaloes made to work a mill, even domestic pets don’t have to work.  Police dogs  are but rarely  called  upon  to do their  duty, a house  dog  supposed to watch a house,   plays most  of the  time and  takes  a good  nap in the  morning  whenever  there is  good, warm  sunshine.   The Aristocrat  cat certainly  never  works for a  living  and gifted  with a bodily agility which enables  it to disregard  a neighbor  fence, it is even unconscious  of its  captivity- it just  goes wherever it likes to go  so then  we have  this to living humanity alone caged and domesticated  but  not fed  forced by this civilization  and complex society  to work  and worry about the  matter of  feeding  itself.  Humanity has its   own advantages like the delight of knowledge, the pleasures of conversation and the joy of the imagination.  But  the essential  fact  remain  that human  life  has got  too complicated  and the  matter of merely  feeding  ourselves  directly  or indirectly  is occupying  well over ninety percent  of human  activities.

Civilization is largely a matter of seeking food while progress is that development which makes food more and more difficult to get.  The danger is  that  we get over civilized  and that  we  come  to a point,  as indeed  we have  already  done,  when the work is getting  food is  so strenuous  that we lose  our  appetite for food  in the process  of getting it.

Every time I see a city skyline or look over a stretch of roofs, I get frightened.  It is positively amazing.  Two or  three  water towers,  The  back of two or three   steel frames  for billboards,  perhaps a spare  or two  and a  stretch  of  asphalt roofing  material  and bricks  going  up in square,  sharp,  vertical  outlines  without  any form or order  sprinkled  with some  dirty, discolored  chimneys   and a few  wash  lines  and cris- cross lines of radio  aerial.  And looking down  into  a street I  see again  a stretch  of grey or discolored  red brick walls with  tiny  dark  uniform  windows, in uniform  rows,  half  open  and half  hidden  by shades, with  perhaps  a bottle of  milk standing  on a window- sill and a few pots of  tiny sickly  flowers  on some  others.  A child  comes  up to the  roof  with her  dog  and sits  on the roof  stairs  every  morning  to get a bit of sunshine  and  as I lift  my eyes  again,  I see  rows  upon  rows  of roofs  miles of them  stretching  in ugly  square  outlines  of the distance. More water towers more brick houses. And  humanity lives there.

How do they live, each family behind one or two of these dark windows? What do they do for a living?  It is staggering.  Behind  every  two or  three  windows,  a couple  go to the  bed  every night  like pigeons  returning  to their pigeon holes,  then  they wake  up and  have  their  morning coffee  and the husband  emerges  into the street,  going somewhere  to find  bread  for the family,  while the wife  tries  persistently  and desperately   to drive out  the dust  and keep   the little  place   clean.  The night falls, they are dead tired and go to sleep again.  And so they live.

There are others more well to do people living in a better apartment.  More “arty” rooms and lampshades.  Still more orderly and more clean. They have a little more space to rent a seven room flat.  Not to speak of owning.  It is considered a luxury.   But it does not imply more happiness.  Less financed worry and fever debts to think   about.  its  true  But also  more   emotional  compilations,  more divorce,  more cat- husbands that  don’t  come  home at  night  or the  couple  go prowling  together  at night  seeking  some  more dissipation.  Diversion is the word. Good lord, they need to be diverted from these monotonous, uniform brick walls and shining wooden floors!  Of course they go to look at naked women. Consequently  more neurasthenia,    more aspirin,  more expensive   illness,  more colitis,  appendicitis  and dyspepsia,  more  softened  brains  and hardened  livers,  more  ulcerated   duodenums  and lacerated  intestines,  over worked  stomachs and over taxed kidneys  inflamed  bladders  and out raged  spleens,  dilated  hearts  and shattered  nerves,  more flat  chests and  high blood pressure, more  diabetes,  Bright’s disease,  beri-beri,  rheumatism,  insomnia, arteries sclerosis,  piles,  fistula, chronic  dysentery, chronic  constipation,  loss of  appetite  and  weariness  of life  to make  the picture perfect, more  dogs  and fever children .

The matter of happiness depends entirely upon the quality and temper   of the man and women living in these elegant apartments.  Some  indeed  have a  jolly  life, others  simply  don’t.  But on the whole perhaps they are less happy then the hard working people.  They  have more ennui  and more  boredom.  But they  have  a car and perhaps a country,  so then  people  work  hard  in the  country  so that they  can  come  to the city so that they can  earn sufficient  money and go back to the country again.

And as you take  a stroll through  the city you see that back of the main  avenue  with beauty parlors  and flowers  shops  and shopping firms in  another  street with  drug stores, grocery stores, hardware shops, barber  shops, laundries, cheep eating  places,  new stands.  You wander along for an hour, and if it is a big city,    you are still there, you see only   more streets, more drug stores, grocery stores, hardware shops,  barber shops,  laundries,   cheap eating  places  and new stands.  How do these people  make their  living ? And why do they   come here? Very simple.  The laundry  man washes  the clothes  of the barbers  and restaurant  waiters, the restaurant waiter  wait  upon  the laundryman’s  and barbers  while they eat, and  the  barbers cut    the  hair  of the laundry man  and waiters.  That is civilization.  Isn’t it amazing?  I bet  some  of the laundry man, barbers  and waiters  never wander beyond  ten blocks  from their  place  of work  in their  entire life.  Thank God they have at least the movies where they can see birds singing on the screen trees growing and swaying.

O wise humanity, terribly wise humanity! Of thee I sing.  How inscrutable is the civilization where    men   toil and work and worry their hair grey to get a living and forget to play.