The dystopia of utopia is a common theme in sci fi. It’s a common theme in the history of humanity. It has driven us to a society built on the premise that we should avoid pain and sickness and tilling the earth by the sweat of our brow. In short, we want to push death away and find ever-more ingenious ways to avoid hard work.
Obviously, striving to make life better is not a bad aim. It’s laudable. What isn’t laudable is falling for the lie that we can attain perfection — appearance-wise, at least. I’ll never forget the day I took my daily walk in the park earlier than usual. The dog will fall into a sullen bout of pouting if she doesn’t get her daily walk. Therefore, on that day, when I knew I was going to be busy in the evening, I took her for an earlier walk — much to my chagrin, as the city workers were busy spraying the park with herbicide.
Herbicide makes life easier. It also gives me almost instant migraines and mild anaphylaxis. The ironic part is it’s not benefiting those city workers, either, as they were young fat men sitting at their leisure on the back of a truck, spraying the herbicide from big tanks when they could have been using their bodies instead.
The park in Roswell is huge. The maintained areas of green spaces go on for a number of blocks. Of course, it makes sense for the city to save on labor this way. Isn’t it amazing that Monsanto created a way to avoid hard work? However, hundreds of years ago, cultivated green spaces were maintained through the hard physical labor of workers who were assuredly not fat. Also, the most common herbicide on the market has been linked to cancer. Lymphoma, specifically. There are currently numerous lawsuits going through the court system, people suing Monsanto because they’ve linked their lymphoma to heavy Roundup exposure.
I guess it’s good for the labor of lawyers, though, who no doubt have giant sweat stains from stressing over going against a corporate giant. Or conversely, drool stains from salivating for the money they anticipate getting. Maybe they think they’ll retire early and avoid further sweat…until the doctor tells them to go to the gym, lest they die young from heart attacks.
The scourge of herbicide touches on the simultaneous curse of death and hard physical labor: men sue because they’re afraid of death; they use herbicide because they’re afraid of hard, painful work. This is what utopia means.
Also: immunizations. That’s the teaser I’m going to leave you with. (Short thoughts, remember? I almost rambled on for another 500 or so words.)