Job Hunting on the Steppes of Mongolia

Job hunting - a truly dreaded activity - makes me think of the Herman Melville short story Bartleby. In Melville's short, he explores the dynamic of the work environment itself, how office politics are simply devious power struggles and how work itself is nothing more than a demoralizing routine of servitude, as Marx pointed out in his own writings.

Bartleby himself is a very interesting character. He has been hired to fill the roll of a filling clerk and his primary duty is, obviously, to file papers. After a certain point, however, Bartleby shirks his duties. When his supervisor asks him to perform routine tasks, Bartleby simply replies, "I would prefer not to."

I would prefer not to have to search for a job unrelated to my field. I would prefer to receive money to write, to read, to critique, to edit, to create stories. To think. I would prefer not to think I wasted four and a half years of my life and thousands of dollars gaining inapplicable knowledge. There has to be a job for me out there somewhere. Maybe I should start writing saucy romance novels. I'd rather do that than resort to telemarketing.

A degree in Humanities, knowledge of literature, having read the canon, being able to write and think analytically is like giving a caveman a sac of pebbles and telling him to bring home some mammoth steaks. In our day and age, if you want a spear an atlatl, you have to study either business, medicine, or law.