From Aaron Dubrow, Daily Scoop Intern:
Web surfing is my job. I do it professionally and I do it well. As such, I do not frivolously meander the information highway. I have many bookmarks, bookmarks I check methodically in search of new and interesting material. I do this for you, the reader. News. Media and Entertainment. Living. Tech. Money. These are the names of my bookmarks which I check methodically and without frivolity.
Next year, I will be a senior at Williams College. From this simple fact, you have probably already surmised that I am not a full-time staff member here. This doesn't mean that I do my job without total seriousness, no. The Organization would not have it; the Organization demands utmost seriousness. Frivolity is frowned upon in all situations. Even during our lunch break, it is frowned upon to make lighthearted remarks or to smile. We are permitted to discuss work if we think that it will improve our productivity. However there are those, my superiors, whose productivity is diminished by discussion and these people who are people of the very highest rank in the Organization never talk of work, but eat with silent diligence, considering the problems that stand between them and the successful completion of their work. It is for you, reader, that these people deny themselves the companionship of their co-workers and all other frivolities.
At school, things are very different. Indeed, things at school and things at work are as different as two things can be. At school it is all singing and chit-chat, and dancing, and James Joyce, and panty raids, and Steve McIntire puking in the sink, and, did I leave my bra in here? and Wild Turkey, and, no, sir I haven't done the reading, and god-knows-who-else. It is easy to see how things are different. It is all frivolity and panty-wagging in school. Oh yes, there are the books. At the beginning and the end of the term; and the lines to get the books, and the long haul over lawn and gale lugging the heavy books, psychology and literature and who-knows-what and putting them on the shelves, but after that, there is hardly a dour face among them, what, after the funnels and the keg-stands and the fat spliffs. I can hardly remember a single serious thing from college. Maybe a lecture on Samuel Johnson.
Last summer, I worked at the post office. It was perhaps even more serious than here. All one would hear all day was the tick-tick of mail being sorted and dashed into tiny boxes, and then the snap of the rubber bands around mail bundles and the squeaking wheels of the trolleys and the mailmen loading their mail piles onto their trucks. And then not a word on the street all day, eyes peeking through drawn blinds, not daring to greet us. It was the heat that kept them off the porches and out of sight, and not a little bit the reputation of mailmen, but some days some nice person would leave a pitcher of lemonade, or a chilled bottle of peach Schnaps, on the stoop, and those would be the days most like college, tearing through the hot, empty street with the mail-truck door open to the world, dumping mail into swimming pools and wading in the reservoir, the whole time filled to the teeth with riotous laughter. But perhaps I shouldn't speak of these things too loudly, for that Organization is even more serious than the Organization I presently work for and wouldn't look too kindly on my past wiggle-waggling.
I am very satisfied with my stay here so far. The work is steady and interesting, and the pay, pitiful though it may be, restores a bit of dignity to an otherwise undignified position. My days here will soon come to a close, the stream of vaguely fraudulent editorial filters I have written for Daily Scoop will dry up like some mythical river and the Internet will hear from me no more. But I've become sentimental, and the Organization discourages that almost as strongly as it discourages frivolity. I hope our pleasant, though one-sided, conversations may continue another day.
In all seriousness,
Aaron Dubrow, Daily Scoop Intern (8/15/97)
Read more "Letters from Tripod" in the archive.