The Pursuit of Happiness

"Money never made a man happy yet, nor will it. The more a man has, the more he wants. Instead of filling a vacuum, it makes one."  

~ Benjamin Franklin

When I was in my eighth grade History class, we were discussing the Declaration of Independence. When the teacher asked the class to define to what the writers of the Declaration referred when they said "the pursuit of happiness," I was the only one in the class who understood what it meant - or, at the very least, what my professor believed and was teaching us that it meant.

The pursuit of happiness. The pursuit of money.

I would like to take a moment to mention to everyone that I am thoroughly disgusted that I was the only one to know this. And then I would like to take another moment to slap myself across the face.

Do not make the mistake of thinking that I am disgusted that no one else in the class knew what those words meant. Rather, I have been, since the eighth grade, disgusted that I did know. Not because I believe I am a greedy person and this reveals my own nature to myself, but rather that in a classroom of ignorant people, I understood the one concept of the Declaration that I can honestly say I think is a load of horseshit.

Not that people are able to pursue careers that will help them survive in life, but that within the confines of the Declaration of Independence, in a classroom full of eighth graders, what was one of the most important things in the minds of America and Americans is a foolish, arbitrary concept.

Money.

Were stupidity to take a physical form.

Those of you who have two-year-old nieces and nephews, siblings, children, mouthy kids that you babysit, understand precisely where the concept of money came from, though you may not realize it. The guy who precipitated the creation of currency was someone with a toy just like one of those two-year-olds.

Now, of course, it wasn't just like it. I'm sure it didn't have as many flashing lights or bobbles or play the sounds a cow makes when you spin a dial. But to that guy, his toy was the most awesome toy in the awesome toy squad. It was the Superman of toys. It was the pimpin' shiznit of the era, bitches, and don't you argue none.

And just like those two-year-olds we're all so fond of, this guy didn't want to share, either.

But if you had something better...

Currency is a word used nowadays to refer most prominently toward money - the American dollar bill, which is doing its damnedest to take over the world. Currency, however, as defined by Dictonary.com, is "Something that is used as a medium of exchange." At one time, paper money wasn't used as often as the trade of services. If one person has a green thumb but no skill at making clothes, and another guy's got a dead garden but a field full of sheep and a loom, Mr. Green Thumb might tell Mr. Loom, "hey, neighbor - I'll fix your garden up proper if you make my lass a sweater." And there you have a trade.

Of course, then you get into the times where Mr. Green Thumb's still growing tomato plants like they're weeds, but the guy who needs his help only knows how to feed cattle, and Mr. Green Thumb's only got Old Bessy, the ancient cud-chewing heffer out back. Not much of a fair trade, is it, for Mr. GT to plant and take care of this whole huge garden, when Mr. Cattle-Feeder has to toss a bucket of chop in front of Old Bessy.

Behold, the idea to create a system where everyone has something of the same value. A little green piece of paper with some old guy's mug on it is worth just as much in your hand as does in mine. Whether or not one person has more than another doesn't matter, so long as one is worth the same as the other (one being a 1 dollar bill to a 1 dollar bill, a 20 to a 20, etc).

Here now, we have a bunch of paper money for the world to handle. The government will take all of the gold and silver and give you paper money to play with, and you'll be happy, because no one has to worry about the garden not be worth as much as the cow. Mr. Green Thumb can feed his own damn cow, and if Mr. Cattle-Feeder needs some tomatoes, well, damn, he can buy them off of Mr. Green Thumb, can't he? Isn't money grand?

Money sucks, ladies and gentlemen, and if you haven't figured that out yet, I pity you.

Happiness was an incredibly asinine term to use as a metaphor for money. Money, you realize, doesn't actually exist.

Yes, of course, gold is substantial and can be held in the hand. Silver is as real as anything. The dollar bill, even, is a thing I can touch and feel, and if I feel like making myself ill, taste. However, I can take a lit match to a dollar bill. I can melt a nickle down in my furnace. Where's that dollar? Where's that five cents? They don't exist anymore... they never did.

Currency was originally what someone would do in trade for what someone else would do for them (Let's look again at Mr. Green Thumb and Mr. Loom). Now, of course, that loom could break down, but then maybe Mr. Loom would get some help from Mr. Carpenter across the street, who just happens to not have enough food for his family because the hunting was bad. Well, Mr. Loom has an old sheep that was going to get slaughtered soon, anyway. You fix his loom, Mr. Carpenter, and I bet he'd buy you dinner. He might even sheer it for you.

Once upon a time, people helped other people. Altruistic behavior didn't exist at every moment, no, but people were willing to trade one talented action for another, and in the end, everyone ended up better off for it. Here, I can hand a crinkled, green piece of paper with a 5 and some dead guy's face on it to the poor schmuck in the drive-thru window, and she can give me back some jingling pieces of metal. I get some greased up piece of cow in a bun for all I gave her, and what's she get out of the deal? Some more play money and a couple smoke breaks. Maybe she'll even have a nice new pimple from all the grease floating in the air. Who benefits from all of that, though? Suppose the guy behind me in the BMW, pumping Eminem out of his pristine windows is a bloody millionaire. Well, la ti da. Let's whip out the Monopoly board and play a game, because that's all the paper bills are good for, in the long run.

No one benefits from anyone, anymore. We all get handed some paper bills, a few coins, and we trade them off for more coins, and we work for more paper bills, and we watch as some people drive around in hot-ass cars they bought with play money, and other people buy stuff on the bargain shelves, because the Monopoly Banker took a smoke break when it was their turn to be dealt the cash.

Once upon a time... in a land long ago and forgotten, people knew each other, helped each other, and currency meant everyone made off better. Now, we ignore everyone else, help ourselves with idolized "currency," and wander around in our own little bubbles, thinking that this is happiness.