Labor Day
Today is Labor Day. Monday a day of respite from work. Work is the joint enterprise to sustain ourselves, to build shelter, cultivate, to transport, to prepare food. Also, work is essential to fashion a place of safety, a refuge that is “home.”
I am reading Lord of the Flies by William Golding. I remember reading Golding’s book in college, being affected by the authors rendering of a parable of civilization. What I mean is, how humans organize for survival, when survival is the only priority for a very, very long time. With the passage of time, trial and error, fits of starts and premature finishes, — “progress” is made. Survival recedes into the background, conditions permit us to become interested in other things, even obsessed by other things. Food can conveniently be purchased at a Jewel Food Store. And I am preoccupied to own a Porsche 911…
In any case survival endures, the prime value, the supreme desideratum behind a gossamer veil of success.
The chapter 3, Huts On The Beach, I am impressed how much training, conditioning is prerequisite in learning-to-work-together.
“Been working for days now. And Look!”
Two shelters were in position, but shaky. This one was a ruin.
“And they keep running off…
“Well the littleuns are—”
He gesticulated, sought for a word.
“They’re hopeless. The older ones aren’t much better…”
—Lord of the Flies by William Golding
This tune from 1965 serves as a commentary of sorts…
