Some people -- some friends -- are going to ask why I left a particular anti-spam mailing list after eleven and a half years, and what that means.

Here's a bit of a timeline:

I'm not bothered by how important you say you are,
and even if my eyes moved (as those of some of my more expensive breathren do)
instead of just my up-stretched hand rocking to and fro,
I would not choose to watch you dipping small bits of expertly cut fish
that you haltingly pretend to pronounce.

The lady who put me on my shelf
as if it watch over fumbling chopstickery
explains that I bring good luck, but when
dinner is over and she goes home I know that much like you, her luck comes
from a flat screen television upon the wall

The tech bubble may have exaggerating the monetary worth of the internet, but the societal impact of these technologies is still more powerful (and more difficult to predict) than any marketing drivel about robust and scalable paradigms could ever convey.

I think it /is/ possible to do meaningful work within the for- profit tech industry -- but it's hard. For one thing, most corporate cultures didn't learn from the bubble, so they still put vesting harder above living well. And for another, it can be difficult to see how your little project fits into the big picture -- into the dream.

For me, anti-spam work (and e-mail foo in general) feels almost sufficiently meaningful as long as I'm able to be part of the worldwide conversations about improving the state of the Internet, rather than stuck in an office by myself. It also helps that I watch industry trends in search of that big picture.