There is sheer bloody poetry in this series of panels from Eddie Campbell's comic adaption of Alan Moore Birth Caul, beyond the fears of youth.
It's these men who are proud of never missing a day at their menial jobs, and that's all they've got to show for a life of toil. Moore used it to show how much that prospect can absolutely terrify any youth with hope for a better life, and how it pushed him hard into Art. But it also captures a working class dignity that has always been exploited, a pride that management had no interest in, other than to generate more profit.
It makes me think about my parent's generation, and how all their job security was stripped away by the dumbass political ideologies of the 1980s. And all their children flutter from job to job, never giving any loyalty to one business or organisation, because you never get that loyalty back.
How many jobs did you have before you found one worth sticking with? How many times were you betrayed by a boss, or ignored by the suits in charge, or thrown away like fucking nothing? Why give them anything when they give you nothing back?
There's something a bit horrifying about a genuine and honest work ethic that is chewed up by monsters of capitalism, and it's just as horrifying as a lifetime of drudge work.