20031216   

jackass

Michael considered fate at 19:12   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment

The more I look at that mule down there a few posts (here) the more I sort of like him. He's a good looking mule, as mules go, and he seems to have a sense about him. I can't say for sure, but I'm willing to bet he's a mule that's accepted his lot in life and is pretty easy to deal with. A sensible guy, in all respects.

There is a certain respect that I reserve for the Workers(tm) of this earth. The ants and mites and the bees buzzing above. The tireless hammering of the woodpecker and the exhausting sunbathing of the cold blodded lizard. These are committed folk, for better or worse. Accepting of their fate and willing to work with the tools given them.

The thing about the Workers(tm) is that they are wholly separate from the Whiners(tm). Sometimes, people try to glump the two together and call the whole mess a Workforce(tm) but it's just bullshit if you ask me. That was the mistake Stalin made and a mistake that will no doubt be repeated. A worker is heads down and resolved. A worker shovels the ditch even as you fill it back in. A worker stops a minute into his break and starts back up a minute before it ends and calls himself lazy. The whiner, however, is a creature of a different nature. The whiner shows up on time but is not ready to work. The whiner follows the rules but does not follow the Rules(tm). The whiner measures the hot air coming from his mouth as part of his contribution to society and he sees himself as a very integral part, a irreplacable part of the wheezing coughing smoking machine. The whiner thinks he holds it all together. THe whiner would rather get off 30 minutes early than have a 15 minute break and doesn't understand why the two are not synonmous and equal.

So they are both beasts of burden yet the burden is wholly different and unglumpable. The whiner and the worker, brothers but not twins, share only their plight. They both hold up the structure, for they are it's very base yet they differ greatly in where they come from and where they are going.

I respect that mule. I respect him a lot. I see him, sad maybe, forlorn, or just accepting.. even lively with the sparkle of challenge in his eye.. but still a mule, a jackass, a pack animal. Sometimes I wish I were a pack animal. It would be easier, in many respects, to be the worker. It provides for an easier conscience and a more understandable future. The worker knows it's path and by knowing, can resolve itself and accept it's journey and get to actually travelling it.

Alas, there is whiner blood in me. There is the urge to expel and expound upon feelings and emotions. There is desire to explain and express. The whiner, for shame, hopes for more - a better life. The whiner thinks he deserves more just for being him.

That mule.. he's just an animal. In our human eyes we see him staring back at us with small little animal expressions. "I am thirsty," he says. "This pack is heavy, but okay," he grumbles. "If you ask that dog for advice one more time I might kick you," he mumbles under his breath. We do not see the burden of knowledge in his eyes. To us, the mule is a static thinking machine. A mechanical calculator not capable of dynamically changing, explaining, provoking, or realizing. This is our burden, the Whiners(tm). We have share the burden of doubt, hope, faith, and the most burdensome of all: knowledge of the existence of things we do not know.

I do not understand.

I respect that mule for it's place on the earth, behind that fence, looking over - looking out at me from that photograph. I respect that mule for it's complete unawareness of that camera, pointed at him, and it's inner mechanical workers. I envy that mule for not knowing of the whirring spinning sparking photographic electronics packed within the metal housing. I appreciate him standing in his mud perhaps not knowing that mud is dirty and not appreciating the sun or the sky and only knowing that yes, the mosquitos are bad, oh.. I hate those mosquitos I wish they would just go away *swish* *swish* *swish*.. my tail is worthless.

I bet that's one good mule, there in that picture. I bet he's a good guy, hardworking, and friendly to boot. I'm not saying all workers are friendly and I'm not saying they have to be.. but I'm glad I think that he, the pony jackass mule in that picture, I'm glad he is a friendly creature in my mind.

Hi mule.

Hullo Michael.

Oh, call me mike. You don't have to be so formal.

Okay mike, no problem.

Gosh the mosquitos are bad, huh mule?

Yah, mike.. they are. That they are.