The entirety of human evolution and history has led up to this single moment. Our conquest of fire and then of the Earth, the wars, the scientific discoveries, all culminating in this moment of you sitting there reading this article. We have come so very far in a relatively short amount of time and what is the apex of our achievements? This. This is the penultimate in human progress.
I’m not the first to point it out I’m sure. The first person to use a typewriter probably thought, “Heck, can it get any better than this? I’m totally more awesome than the Romans”. In a way, that guy was better than the Romans, merely by being alive. For him, that was the best technology could offer and civilization reached a new high point. Then some pervert got a hold of the technology and figured how to put ladies naked ankles on it and everything went downhill for a while. It was the Victorian age after all. (God I could go for some hot ankle right now)
I must express some usual dissention however as I just can’t believe the amazing human progress made in the last 100 years has resulted in my cubicle sitting. We can micro size the totality of a personal computer that has more computing power than all the Apollo space missions to something that fits in our pocket and yet, here I am, sitting in a cardboard and carpet cubicle answering questions about why I’m not more compassionate about your drunken driving accident.
I understand that not everyone is destined for greatness; some of us aren’t even destined for mediocrity. Human progress has determined that for great advances in our society, there has to be a worker class grinding out the day to day stuff. So in essence, history deemed my eventual role the very moment a caveman held the first flaming branch up to the sky to illuminate the dark of night. From that moment, history was set on a course to put me in this spot, right here, right now. (Not to quote Jesus Jones)
I have the capacity to change my place in history but surely not the means as history has also decided that I am to be poor. Well, not poor. I’m not poverty stricken, but I could get there far faster than I could become financially sound. I make what is expected a cubicle worker would make less a few thousand than what you imagined, minus the few hundred you added on in your imagination to be generous. But again, the whole of human history decided what I would make the day the Americas were discovered. I’m not 100% on the math but I’m sure it has something to do with sailor’s wages.
So enjoy your place, millions came before you, striving to carve their own niche in the place carved out by the millions before them. On second thought, screw that. Perhaps we should strive for a little better than that. I’m not satisfied and neither should you be. Unless you are very happy with what you are doing. In that case then I salute you, but please sit down, you’re blocking our view of the future.