It sometimes bothers me that I feel as if I don't post as much art as I should. If one is an artist, the cultural expectation is that the "useless bum" who doesn't know how to work a "real" job should at least be churning out marketable artwork at the rate of twelve pieces a day, to justify his existence before the rest of the useful--because they're working and more importantly, earning money-- society.

Yes, it threatens them that people like me exist as a blight on their perfect landscape. And had I not these creative leanings and romantic impulses I'd be right there with them, condemning the rest of my useless yokel brethren to some Siberian penitentiary where they can uselessly dissent and be easily and conveniently dismissed. Or better yet, to some Asian sweatshop where they can churn out cheap trinkets and not bother us with their existence. After all, if you want art, you can and should easily buy it at the local mall -- processed, pre-packaged and sealed to lock in the freshness.

Because it's true what the noncreatives keep saying, even if they've really stopped believing in it-- work edifies. More important than the monetary gain is the sense that you have built something, participated in something good, something greater than yourself, something that will benefit you or someone close to you, if not humanity in general. This is what makes the work experience a humanizing one, because at the end of the workday your time, your life means something. You've experienced your labor pains and given birth to something worthy.

One can actually come into an understanding of God and mothers this way.

Where my kind and the noncreatives differ is how we define work. To the noncreative, work is simply what puts food on the table, what gets you that vacation in Bali or what gets you regular and satisfying sex with your hot workmate. If work does not directly have any impact on getting food on the table (or a woman in your bed) then it simply isn't work.

Luckily for us creatives, the world's been changed by the valiant efforts of geeks so that the traditional concepts of what work should be don't universally apply. Advertising and marketing have little to do with directly getting food on the table, even if they both depend heavily on sex. In this brave new world you can be a geek and "buy" your respectability and your wife's fake boobs with your fat Microsoft paycheck.

We still have a long way to go before storytellers, mythmakers, poets and artists get the respect they deserve.