“Money makes the world go round.”

Who first said that little gem I can’t be sure, but for the sake of the quotation marks it’s an R. Kelly song.

What happens, though, when all of the junior CEOs preparing for the fast-paced job of spinning the world forget those who give purpose to the rotation?

In front of us the employability of graduates with degrees in the humanities is falling to drastic lows. Debt and depression are becoming synonymous with degrees some would deem impractical.

The arts and understanding of human nature are being dusted under the rug as Disney tells every unloved stepchild he or she can be a princess some day.

Today, the only glass slippers being handed out are at the bottom of a septic tank resembling a country club pool. Dive deep enough and the shoe might fit, but nobody comes up clean.

Even worse is the G.A.S. (Give A … Something) meter we are operating on.

This trend of looking at our feet humming radio jingles has created the largest disparity among lethargic masses and fat cats since the Dark Ages.

Neon signs of our constructed destruction light up the main roads of Michigan ghost towns with luminosity eerily reminiscent of the Vegas Strip.

The flashing advertisements blink with figures of greed and lust. These lights dim the stars to a point of believing the bright night is a thing of the past.

I admire the graduates who scoff at the term “comfortable living.” 

I respect the freezing man who refuses the shelter of a burning house. 

Most importantly, I envy outcasts that can aid in the fight against watery Kool-Aid. 

Now, for all of those whose lives focus outside of the humanities, I do not argue the necessity of your work. But your breed is not at risk of extinction in this modern global society. My condemnation is not personal, but born out of desperation to preserve my own interests.

Today, there are many forces suggesting we throw in the towel before we lose the fight. To me, there are worse things than a hard life in pursuit of purpose. Drowning in a three-foot pool is no different than the depths of the ocean (oil or not). 

So, unless the beliefs behind lavish, dynastic burials become popular soon, modern “comfort” accumulated in our lifetimes will serve only to remind us of our inadequacies and fear of heights.