"to wrestle with the specters of hunger and privation,
to take your chances of accident, disease, and death. And each day the struggle becomes fiercer, the pace more cruel; each day you have to toil a little harder,
and feel the iron hand of circumstance close upon you a little tighter. Months pass, years maybe--and then you come again; and again I am here to plead with you,
to know if want and misery have yet done their work with you,
if injustice and oppression have yet opened your eyes! I shall still be waiting--there is nothing else that I can do. There is no wilderness where I can hide from these things, there is no haven where I can escape them; though I travel to the ends of the earth,
I find the same accursed system
-I find that all the fair and noble impulses of humanity,
the dreams of poets and the agonies of martyrs, are shackled and bound in the service of organized and predatory Greed!"
Chapter 28, "The Jungle", written by Upton Sinclair, 1906.
What Purpose Of Life Will Sustain Us
As The Days Of Our Youth Spiral Away
What Hope For Man Can We Extract Here
From This Order Above, Where Decisions Are Made
Don't Tell Me You Trust Them
Don't Tell Me They Care
There's A Reason We Stand Here In Silence
Like The Passive Before
We Embrace Our Despair
to take your chances of accident, disease, and death. And each day the struggle becomes fiercer, the pace more cruel; each day you have to toil a little harder,
and feel the iron hand of circumstance close upon you a little tighter. Months pass, years maybe--and then you come again; and again I am here to plead with you,
to know if want and misery have yet done their work with you,
if injustice and oppression have yet opened your eyes! I shall still be waiting--there is nothing else that I can do. There is no wilderness where I can hide from these things, there is no haven where I can escape them; though I travel to the ends of the earth,
I find the same accursed system
-I find that all the fair and noble impulses of humanity,
the dreams of poets and the agonies of martyrs, are shackled and bound in the service of organized and predatory Greed!"
Chapter 28, "The Jungle", written by Upton Sinclair, 1906.
What Purpose Of Life Will Sustain Us
As The Days Of Our Youth Spiral Away
What Hope For Man Can We Extract Here
From This Order Above, Where Decisions Are Made
Don't Tell Me You Trust Them
Don't Tell Me They Care
There's A Reason We Stand Here In Silence
Like The Passive Before
We Embrace Our Despair