A working-class hero is something to be?

On the fetishization of useless work and the emptiness of it all.

I’m working so hard.

I barely sleep. I’m so stressed out. You wouldn’t believe it. I sleep like six hours tops, sometimes only four hours. It’s because of all the hard work I’m doing, you know. And all the stress I’m experiencing. Did I tell you about the stress? Oh, and I barely sleep. Can you believe it?

“Hi, honey. How was work?”

“Don’t get me started. It was so stressful. John did this, Sarah said that, the boss told us that… Can you believe it? I mean, we’re so overworked right now. There’s not enough staff and the boss is a dumbass. How did he get the job? Damn nepotists. I should be in his shoes. I would do so much better.”

“Sounds horrible, honey. But you wouldn’t believe the day I was having! You think you’re stressed out? You think you have it rough? You wouldn’t even know how to cope with the stuff I’m dealing with at work. I’m so damn busy, like you wouldn’t believe it.”

“Anyways, let’s make dinner and watch something.”

“What about my Excel spreadsheet?”

This reminds me of a Tom Rosenthal song. It goes like this:

Don’t you know how busy and important I am?
I got so much to do
Ask me out to dinner on Friday night
I can’t go, I got too much to do

Maybe I’m just trying to distract myself from my mortality
Maybe I’m just trying to distract myself from my mortality

Oh, I’m too busy to finish this song
I’m too busy to dance
Too busy to cry
Too busy to die
Too busy to see my chance

Yeah, that’s a good song. It perfectly captures my experience. So damn busy all the time. You better fucking believe it.

Look at how hard I’m working!

What is life but an endless sequence?

Wake up, eat, drive to work, work, eat, work some more, drive home, eat, do chores, entertainment, sleep, wake up, eat, drive to work, work, eat, work some more, drive home, eat, do chores, entertainment, sleep, wake up, eat, drive to work, work, eat, work some more, drive home, eat, do chores, entertainment, sleep, wake up, eat, drive to work, work, eat, work some more, drive home, eat, do chores, entertainment, sleep,…

Repeat, repeat, repeat.

Sometimes, there are weekends.

Do I consider myself a working-class hero? Yeah, you might say that. After all, I’m working very hard to achieve all of (my?) goals. I’ve been working since I was six years old, man!

That’s when it all started.

My childhood came to an end when they separated me from my family and put me in school. Every day, all day, all week (not on weekends though!), all year (hey, don’t forget the holidays and summer!).

In school, I was socialized. They showed me how to behave, how to think, what to think, what to celebrate and what to condemn; they taught me our history  —  the only history that matters — they taught me about democracy and freedom and oil, and how to be an office drone.

The freedom to do anything!

They taught me about politics and the things that are acceptable to say. The right values, the right morality, the right way to express individuality.

Another great song. This one by Pink Floyd:

We don′t need no education
We don’t need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Teacher, leave them kids alone

Hey, teacher, leave them kids alone
All in all, it′s just another brick in the wall
All in all, you’re just another brick in the wall

Yeah, another brick in the wall. Many bricks form a solid wall. A strong wall; a wall that cannot be breached. The walls form four sides of a rectangle that contains it all.

You have the freedom to do anything! Don’t you know how good you have it? So many people fought and died for you to enjoy that freedom, and what are you doing? You are squandering it God damn it! You are being lazy! Art? Writing? Living? Pull yourself up by your bootstraps, boy! Like I did!

What are those goals you asked?

The goals, of course.

First, you finish school. Then, if you were lucky enough to be born into a family with generational wealth, you go to college. And then? Then you work of course. You do not waste a goddamn second!

By the time you leave college, the easy life is over. Oh, you think there is more to life than just working? Well, should have done that in your childhood. Should have done that at university. It’s done now. Now, the real life begins. Now you work. Work hard.

Think of your retirement! The planet might still be habitable then!

Look at how hard I’m working!

Next step: find someone. Anyone, really. You’re not gonna spend much time with them anyway. Look for a house. Why a house, you ask? Because everyone is doing that, of course. What a silly question. Do you not see the rectangle? Do not cross the line, my boy. Don’t you want to be happy?

You cannot possibly afford that house.

No matter. That’s what banks are for. Capitalism provides.

The sides of the rectangle are enclosing. They are snapping tight all around you, confining you until they form a solid roof. There is no escaping now, my child.

The freedom to do anything!

You are a true working-class hero now. Like in that John Lennon song.

As soon as you’re born, they make you feel small
By giving you no time instead of it all
’Til the pain is so big you feel nothing at all
A working class hero is something to be
A working class hero is something to be

Keep you doped with religion and sex and TV
And you think you’re so clever and classless and free
But you’re still fucking peasants as far as I can see
A working class hero is something to be
A working class hero is something to be

There’s room at the top they are telling you still
But first you must learn how to smile as you kill
If you want to be like the folks on the hill
A working class hero is something to be
A working class hero is something to be

As Kurt Vonnegut would say: so it goes.

And so on.

What then?

You continue. You go on. You do not look back or beyond. Never look back or beyond, it hurts too much. You continue. You grind. You work. You make children. They do the same; the cycle continues, the cycle must always continue. Growth for the sake of growth! The gears must gear, the cogs must cog. You are the oil and we will use you ‘till you’re useless.

Going crazy? No matter, that’s what free time is for!

Go on expensive holidays  —  the Caribbean, beaches, sun, cocktails, bikinis, and so on. Once a year should quite suffice to keep you from madness.

Consume! Consume as much as you possibly can. Buy the stuff, think about the stuff, be the stuff. Be the car. Capitalism provides. That’s what stuff is for.

Look at how hard I’m working!

The stuff does not make you happy anymore? No matter, that’s what drugs are for! We got it all figured out, see.

Alcohol, tobacco, weed, and  —  if push comes to shove  —  your doctor will always provide. Some meds to take the edge off and put a smile on that face. One must be happy.

Don’t you know that if a plant is wilting and dying, it’s the plant’s own fault? That plant should work harder on being happy and content. Its environment is perfectly fine after all: it’s got water, it’s got light, it’s got everything. Why, for fucks sake, is it still wilting?

Man, you should see the plants on the other side. Our plants have it real good.

The Germans had a good motto. They liked it so much, they put signs up in concentration camps, where they murdered millions. The signs said: Arbeit macht frei.

Leaving the genocides aside, they were right. The path is simple. If you work like, really, really hard, then you can achieve everything you’ve ever dreamed of. Isn’t that neat? Then you won’t have to be a working-class hero no more. That carrot can be truly yours  —  if you really want it.

But you don’t, isn’t that right?

Yeah, you’re just another one of those. You will never be rich, you will never be successful. You did not trust the carrot enough. Go back to your 9 to 5. Like in that Dolly Parton song.

9 to 5
Yeah, they got you where they want you
There’s a better life
And you think about it, don’t you?

It’s a rich man’s game
No matter what they call it
And you spend your life
Putting money in his wallet

9 to 5
Oh, what a way to make a livin’
Barely gettin’ by
It’s all takin’ and no givin’

They just use your mind
And they never give you credit
It’s enough to drive you
Crazy if you let it

There’s a great book by David Graeber. It’s called Bullshit Jobs. The book explains how most jobs are completely and utterly useless. They exist only to keep your energies low, your mind from straying too far, your heart too heavy, and managers’ reputations up. It’s a good book. You should read it.

It won’t change anything, mind you.

Look at how hard I’m working!

Dude, I got a master’s degree in business administration! Then I worked in HR. Man, I made good money.

Yeah, true, I then quit the job…

But only to study again! I got a bachelor’s degree in teaching, man! Don’t you see how hard I worked and how successful I am? I worked as a teacher for one and a half years, while still studying! Can you imagine? Can you feel the stress? You cannot. I worked so fucking hard.

Yeah, true, I then quit that job too…

But only to follow my dreams. I’m still working very hard, I swear. I know, I just have a part-time job now  —  dangerously close to the walls of the rectangle, I know — but I work every minute I have. I have no free time at all, I swear! See, I write essays and novels. Complex stories, complicated topics. No, not like this one. Much more complex ones, about society and capitalism and shit. Don’t you know how much work it is to write?

I’m working so very hard!

Please, let me hold your cup.

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I’m author, writer, and activist Antonio Melonio, the creator of Beneath the Pavement. If you enjoyed this piece, please consider becoming a paid subscriber here on Substack or over on Patreon. It’s the best way to support Beneath the Pavement and help me put out more and higher-quality content.

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