Something I found scrawled on a scrap paper on my clipboard, regarding the job:
There's equality issues involved. You're on an even footing w/security guys + janitors + receptioinists. You wear a uniform, you're part of the infrastructure. You're not a wheel but you're greasing the wheels; you're dumping graphite on the cogs. You're a bit of analog code running through a binary world. You're old school. You're paper and ink. You're information, + for all of that, you're anonymous.
Edited, a bit, for clarity. I think it sums this gig up (emotionally) pretty damned well. Doesn't really give a solid impression of rush hour on I-95, though.
There's equality issues involved. You're on an even footing w/security guys + janitors + receptioinists. You wear a uniform, you're part of the infrastructure. You're not a wheel but you're greasing the wheels; you're dumping graphite on the cogs. You're a bit of analog code running through a binary world. You're old school. You're paper and ink. You're information, + for all of that, you're anonymous.
Edited, a bit, for clarity. I think it sums this gig up (emotionally) pretty damned well. Doesn't really give a solid impression of rush hour on I-95, though.
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