Field work

I have an ugly ball cap I bought for six bucks a couple of years ago at a gas station in Johnson City. It’s safety orange camo embossed with images of a deer, a pair of rifles, and an aphorism: BORN TO HUNT FORCED TO WORK I don’t hunt deer or anything else, at least not regularly, but I think the hat is an accurate representation because what it declares is true, if more in an evolutionary sense than an avocational one. My nature is not to sit in front of a screen and manipulate pixels, though that task, I suspect, mimics some of the instinctual tasks for which we are wired, like scanning our field of vision for predators or prey, aiming a weapon, or foraging in the wild field. We are meant to hunt and forage every day to live, not to farm crops to fill up silos, nor to farm data to fill up investment accounts.

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