Now that we have that out of the way, allow me a moment or two of your time to explain why.
Though many a learned person has dismissed the theories of Dr. Freud as nasally obsessed sexual tomfoolery, the notion of the Id remains an alluring one. Imagine your inner being, driven by the pleasure principle, met at every turn by the arbitrary and domineering Super Ego, ruining all its fun. Whether we can ever silence this subconscious, primal scream remains unseen to all but the individual. More likely, it is either modified (in which case, we grow up to be alien to ourselves) or, it is repressed (in which case, we grow up to be grow up to be Civilization’s Discontents, to use Freud’s terminology).
In the end, I think people end up being disappointed when they realize that life is its own reward. I would cautiously suggest that Bill Gates lives the same life of any man who benefits from his own merits; only the tax bracket is different. If the “poorer” man concentrated more on the life he has, compared to nothing, he would be less likely to hate his life because of what he doesn’t have and more likely to love it through appreciation of what he does.
No man can be happy when his family is starving but not buying into every stupid fad that crosses your line of sight buys a lot of food. Also, the ridiculous fortunes of those he envies are built upon his buying their useless products to service his lifestyle, not his life.
I still defend the Id because the Id is about thought, desire, and action, not “stuff”; primal desire shouldn’t have anything to do with a PSP or the jewelled sneakers some crack whore socialite wears in her latest softcore porn music video.
“More! More! More!” is the new life mantra. Want becomes need and anything with intrinsic value falls by the weigh-side and chokes on its own last breaths in a roadside ditch, sitting shiva with the other animals that couldn’t navigate the new super highway.
My Id screams for freedom from all of this. It desires the simplicity it once knew. The Super Ego grows exponentially. The middle man, my Ego, is content that life is its own reward. I only wish, dream of a time when it is again the life not found in a crack whore socialite’s latest softcore porn music video. I’d like to live in that world.