I'm a workin' man, dagnabbit.

The Onion on mechanization and the fate of the working class hero.

My favorite part:

No mere machine can replace the embittered alienation of the flesh-and-blood worker. Sure, machines may be able to gut whitefish in the blink of an eye. But would they be able, as I am, to despise and bemoan their miserable lot? To seethe with the unbearable knowledge that this will be their sole livelihood until the day they die? To identify with the glassy, sightless eye of every fish as their sharp blades spill the innards out?

Whether it's scaling each cod and struggling to suppress the repulsion and loathing within, or de-boning each haddock while fighting the impulse to drop the knife and walk out of the factory as far as your legs can take you, such sentiments could never be reproduced in mechanical form. Those special qualities can only come from one source: exhausted men and women forced to feed and clothe their children on a pauper's wages.

Indeed. That kind of working-class sentimentality can only be borne of working-class self-loathing and frustration. Can ya dig it?

Via Confined Space.

In other Onion News, an area man is proud of the job he hates. It's a like a theme with those folks I guess.

I know there are more interesting, higher-paying careers, but we can't always do what we like, now, can we?" Festge said. "Nor should we. There's too much selfishness out there. People should work hard and shut up. That's how the world works. I'm the real deal. And at the end of a long, horrible day of backbreaking manual labor, that makes me feel pretty good."

Festge added that after punching out on Friday, he plans to get shitfaced.

Indeed, Mr. Festge, indeed.