It is so sad and so true. Some people work just to get a place to talk, a warm meal, and a place to seat during the day (and the salary of course). They could

It is so sad and so true. Some people work just to get a place to talk, a warm meal, and a place to seat during the day (and the salary of course). They could not care less about what they are doing or why. As the author said, "they were there to turn the crank on whatever you put in front of them, and flavor A vs. flavor B didn't change things either way." They could be plowing fields - it wouldn't be any different for them I guess. They are just waiting for death, because they are already dead inside. No passion, no nothing - an empty mask, barely held together by the things they still manage to get some meaning from (tv, sport, family...) They have no purpose in life. If you find a team like this, run for your life. (for any lost soul, the fallen cogs usually meet in a Galt Gulch - I'm sure there is one near where you live. There you will find great people working on great things - and more like you and I)