There are few sounds as grating as the yells and loud calls of young men from the bottom of the social hierarchy: construction workers, farmers, students away from the classroom, idle ghetto dwellers… Their booming, inarticulate voices, their guttural growls, are perhaps meant to be grating, though. The wide repertoire of these sounds is likely to be old, very old, going all the way to the beginning of time, when the young males of low social status began their quest for recognition with loud yelps from the edge of the forest. “Hey,” they seem to be suggesting still, “we are here and we will hang around until our time comes!” The only difference is that their time may never come. And the young men today seem to know it—instinctively, of course.