I am a Mechanical Turk. Not a turkey, nor a person of Turkish descent, but a person who does these odd little gigs for pennies. I live in California with dogs and cats and children and fish and a hamster and a husband. I’ve worked for myself for years and sit here now in my dusty home office with the TV on and click on links and type. Being a MTurk is a welcome relief from my real gig as a community coordinator where everyone knows me wherever I seem to go. This is quiet anonymous work, done in my pajamas, cigarette burning in the ashtray. Have I cashed out on the big bucks yet from MTurk? Nope. Just a few dollars in my account. Will I ever make it big on MTurk? Perhaps if I lived in a small country where the cost-of-living is low, this might pay a bill or two, though the cost of the internet would probably negate any earnings. Will I keep on Turkin’? In the slightly re-arranged words of the Grateful Dead, “Turkin’ - gotta cash my chips in….. keep Turkin’ like the Doodah Man… together, more or less in line … just keep Turkin’ on….”