What you need to know about working for Mechanical Turk is that attracts foolish, insufferable idiots such as myself who are overeducated night owls suffering from the desire to make a pittance for our work efforts. Perhaps the word ‘pittance’ has to generous a sentiment for the truly abusive amount of money some of the hits offer turks, and I should find another word that’s more suitable. But I won’t, and will spend my time complaining to you, dear reader, instead. Are you a turk too? Why on earth you would be reading this if you weren’t is beyond my comprehension, but then again, making any kind of money for work that I do also beyond my ability. Being a turk is somewhat of an externalized affirmation of depressed self-worth if not self-loathing, and it consumes time that could easily be spent on endeavors that promise actual financial reward. However, turks can remain compulsively at the keyboard, eyes fixed on the screen, and all nods to normative social behaviors and interactions can fall by the wayside with the ready response, ‘Sorry, I can’t make it to the party, I’m working.’ On the upside, where else can you earn a penny every 90 seconds and eat ice cream while doing it? Oh wait- don’t tell me, I don’t want to know about those jobs. I’ll just excuse myself now if you don’t mind and return to drawing boxes around animals or dots on a map, and if lucky, I might be able to trade my effort for a Kindle in about four thousand years.