On first arrival you might wonder if something is missing here. After all, there's not much to see. “Is this site over-hyped, or is it just me?”, you might ask. Well, maybe this time it really is you. Not that there's anything terribly wrong with you, please understand. In fact, you only lack the requisite connections.  Sort of like our friend to the right, you may have come from a fine family and are rapidly establishing a professional life of some note, but now yearn to reach beyond all that and really begin to grow your own organization. You awake each morning pondering, the precise equations out of which a molecular bonding of truly organic proportions might emerge. And ceaseless questions of where, when and how some mythically 'right' chemistry transmutes you and your associates into a community of genuinely interdependent interests stalk your every, solitary step. I trust you can acknowledge these pressing challenges without yielding to despair. Besides, you already know, it's not as though cases like yours are inevitably terminal, and help, you may yet learn to believe, if you only knew where to look, is surely available. The first thing you'll need, however, is a knowable identity. So go ahead and register. You know where, down below. It doesn't cost anything and we won't abuse your good name, nor compromise your privacy in any way. Really, that's a promise.
Now, whether you've registered, or chose to remain skeptical at this time, let's continue. Even if you have registered, doubtless little has changed to put you at ease, or reward your trusting efforts. Where's the return in it? At best, you got rid of that pesky little Log-In box. Things may be looking up, but not so's you'd notice, right? Well, that's because you still haven't been recognized! A WorkPorts site doesn't just recognize anybody, after all. That's up to the site administrator. Maybe you belong here, and maybe you don't. But you did take the first step. By registering, you requested recognition.  You knocked on the door and are now eagerly waiting on a smaller door, that door within the door, just about eye level, to crack open wide enough for a coldly calculating face to peer out from the energetic noise and laughter within, slowly taking your measure from head to toe. Perhaps you're expecting a gruff voice demanding to know what you want, who sent you, or to test your familarity with some arcane jargon or statistics leftover from Super Bowl XVIII, to penetrate your defenses and shake you to your most enduring foundations. Well, I sure don't know how it happens either, and don't even care to know. Those details aren't my business. All that's left up to the boss---eh, your administrator. Got it?
Look, this is just a simulation, so if you really are inclined to wait around for some gruff voice to invite you in, you might find yourself sorely tested. Truthfully, it ain't going to happen here. Not with your ID and on my dime. But I can let you borrow an ID for awhile, for a quick look around. Maybe you'll get a glimpse of what it means to be connected, like the big guy over there, to the left. And that's not all of him, either. We had to trim him down to size to fit him into the frame. See how it goes? Everybody pitches in around here. And, if you want some rights, you'll just have to pretend you're somebody else for a while. Ouch!! I know it's not ideal, and not even real, but you've got to start somewhere. Who know's where it might lead? No one said it was going to be all magic, did they? I'm trying to level with you, here. You want organic connections; that's not what I'm selling. You've got to organize your own party. I just rent out the facilities, after all. Ok, you with me? The instructions are to the right, in red, where it says: 'Try It Out For Yourself: Take the Tour.' Go ahead, give it a try, no one will even know it is you. |