I was thinking about the US economy today and the way the classes are quickly beginning to separate out along the lines of what HG Wells wrote about in his novel The Time Machine, with one class doing all the work and the other reaping all the fruits of that labor. I actually had a string of thoughts that led me to this Time Machine analogy. First, it occurred to me as I was sitting in my doctor’s office (waiting to have the fluttering eye looked at), that I was damned fortunate to have insurance. This then caused me to start thinking about the shrinking of the American middleclass. Then, as it would happen, I saw someone reading a tabloid with Paris Hilton on the cover, and that started me thinking about how the American aristocracy are becoming more brazen, and less afraid of displaying their advantage. Then, I started to consider Disney World as a model for the new American Century, with the means of production being totally hidden (as they are, underground, in Disney) from those who can afford the illusion. That, in turn, brought me to HG Wells and his story of the beautiful, surface-dwelling Eloi and their counterparts beneath the earth who did all the work, the nocturnal, ape-like Morlocks… Let’s hope, for the sake of our modern Eloi, that the analogy ends there. Because, as the Time Traveler eventually finds out, the Morlocks only sustain the Eloi in order to feast on their flesh.
Wow, what a gruesome post.
OK, on a kind of Morlock-related note, I just received an e-mail from Crimewave contributor Terry Gilmer, who recently lost his job in Texas. In order to start receiving unemployment benefits, Terry had to sit though a videotape about what to do, and what not to do, during a job interview. Here are his notes:
– Don’t wear a greasy t-shirt that says “life sucks”.
– Don’t write your resume on a paper napkin.
– Don’t put your feet up on the desk knocking over a priceless antique.
– Don’t tell your entire life story ending with the reason why you would never own a dog.
– Don’t cry uncontrollably.
– Don’t take cell phone calls from your buddies during the interview.
– Don’t have your only question be “How many sick days do I get?”
– And especially don’t brag about your felony record and then offer to shoot someone to impress your potential new boss.
Not as insulting as being told by our president to look on the bright side and consider your tax cuts (in the wake of losing a job), but pretty damn close.
5 Comments
Why do the tax-cut-getting rich need to cheer up? What tax cut has the middle class received? Oh, does he mean that $150 I got four years ago?
I have never read H.G. Wells, but who knew he was a good Marxist like that? I think I should read his stuff after all!
I could make plenty of comments here, as I was unemployed for 6 months and got to see how defficient the system is to help people out in this country.
Of course, I stayed unemployed after those six months, and haven’t found work in the last two years. But after those six months, I no longer recieved any assistance at all and was also NO LONGER COUNTED in federal statistics as ‘unemployed’, just because they weren’t giving me any benefits.
So the economy is going to keep being reported as better and better, and the job market as well, simply because millions of people are going to cross that cusp and no longer be regarded as even existing thanks to this methodology of ‘number crunching’ by the administration. Add that fact to completely fabricated figures like the “Consumer Confidence Index”, and it makes it pretty clear that the ‘economy’ is going to be regarded as absolutely perfect just about the time 99% of the population get our morlock positions.
I just hope I get to work underneath the “It’s a small world’ ride, as the music filtering down through the stalagmites would no doubt bring me a tiny amount of joy.
What a happy observation. I suppose on the bright side, the Morlocks are all employed. And it reminds me of a button I bought AGES ago (I can’t find it now though) that said, “Eat the Rich. The poor are tough and stringy.”
Glad to hear that your eye flutter is just a byproduct of exhaustion. Get some rest man.
I would disagree with the position taken by the author of this piece in London’s Telegraph, but I found the first sentence to be quite apropos given the subject of this post. Here is what the author had to say-
I for one look forward to tasting their seaweed-wrapped, collegen-injected, well-toned, botoxed flesh.