Velvet cushion

So hush, little baby, don’t you cry —

You know your daddy’s bound to die
And all my trials, Lord,
Will soon be over.

—Mickey Newbury, An American Trilogy

Office anthropology™ Go Premium The JC puts on his pith-helmet, grabs his butterfly net and a rucksack full of marmalade sandwiches, and heads into the concrete jungleIndex: Click ᐅ to expand: Work anthropology Comments? Questions? Suggestions? Requests? Insults? We’d love to 📧 hear from you. Sign up for our newsletter.

Just as everyone has a silver bullet, so too does everyone have an embroidered velvet cushion with a revolver on it.

For many this is a deep terror — it must be, seeing how many people doggedly remain employed in the financial services industry for many years longer than common sense would allow — but even the most fearful there is a tinge of relief, release, and hope: that there might be a better place, a better way, or even just that this

The worst case is when your silver bullet is the weone who brings you the cushion.

Go quietly