The post below...

makes me think of a series of films called "Arrivals" or (ironically) "Departures." In the second film (the first one's below), a man prepares himself meticulously for his day at work. Pressed pants and shirt, perfect jacket, cuff links. He's respectable as hell--even buffs his shoes and nails before leaving. He flosses for Christ's sake. We see his room, his perfect room. The book called _The Organization Man_ is in his bookshelf.

He makes his way outside, lives outside of New York, begins his commute into the city. We know this guy, he's got his briefcase, his blackberry. He reads a bit on the bus. An old, beat up, well used book with a brown cover. He mouths some of the words. Ultimately, he arrives in New York City and heads downtown on the train. He arrives at the 42nd street stop and winds his way into one of those long, hot, connective tunnels. He's walking with the crowd now. Walking with the crowd until he just stops. Takes his position along a wall. Yup, he's in his office now. He takes out that book, the old, beat up, well used book. And just starts screaming a sermon. All hellfire and damnation. Sweating. Stomping. Scrapping. He does this until the crowd thins out. Then he sits down on a crate, wipes his brow, and the film ends.