As the old saying goes “Rome wasn’t built in a day.” And even though “they” didn’t say how many people it took to build Rome, it’s safe to say that they would’ve said “more than one person.” That’s because the ancient Romans knew how to cooperate, or, as The Wonderland of Knowledge calls it, “co-operation (ko op ur a shun).”

Let’s take a look at what images they choose to illustrate this lovely concept, shall we?

Suresure. Basketball requires that all parties work together for the greater good. “Don’t be a ball hog,” and all that. (This expends all of my basketball knowledge.) It is, of course, interesting that here we see a rare photograph from a game against the Manhattan Basketballers and their bitter rivals, the Red-Shirted White Guys.

…and, it’s a little odd that the photograph is courtesy “the Aluminum Corp. of America,” but, no. No. I’m nitpicking. This is a good example of co-operation. Nice job Wonderland- oh! You have more for the children of 1968. Absolutely, let’s see it.

God dammit, Wonderland.

No, I’m not refuting the fact that the men in this photograph are co-operating. That one guy on the left has to hand the package of bullets to the other gentleman, and so on. Yes. It’s just that this is entirely inappropriate for children, particularly the children of 1968 who are constantly surrounded by the reality of the Vietnam War.

Yes, Wonderland,  I can see they’re working together. But they’re working together to shoot giant bullets and other people.

The text of the article also gives very specific examples of “co-operation” throughout history, which sort of makes it sound like it took a really long time before somebody invented cooperation.

“Almost from the beginning of the human race, people have realized the advantages of co-operation, or working together toward a common end…In the early part of the nineteenth century, Robert Owen, in England, first showed that co-operation between employer and employe [sic] is possible.”

Doesn’t that kind of sound like co-operation was invented by this British dude in the early part of the nineteenth century? Also, doesn’t that kind of sound like every introduction I wrote for my Global history class in an effort to avoid talking about the actual content of the essay.

Except I stopped writing flowery, general statements to introduce a topic in the 11th grade. Once again, Everyone Who Lived in 1968, I have proven that I am better than you. 

Especially since you no longer exist.