Reading this essay brought tears to my eyes. To me, the physical world is a realm permitted only to those with wealth. The author beautifully romanticizes the evaporation of tangible labor, but the physical labor I actually experienced meant unpaid, stolen wages. It meant working through the night, dozing off on the early morning subway until the very last stop, and enduring endless contempt, humiliation, and the tox…
Why would you envy the opportunity to believe in a fiction that has been shown to be wrong, and that exacerbated the problems that the guy is trying to escape from in the first place?