Likely Normal

The modern workplace has bestowed upon us a new form of collective suffering: the Zoom call where half the participants seem to be engaged in an avant-garde performance art piece titled “I Don’t Know How My Camera Works.” These virtual meetings have become a digital safari where we observe the most fascinating species of Homo Technologicus in their natural habitats – completely unaware they’re broadcasting their incompetence to the entire organization.

Our journey begins with the Forehead Auteur, whose camera placement suggests they’re auditioning for a shampoo commercial about scalp health. Then there’s the Backlit Specter, who appears only as a shadowy silhouette, leaving us to wonder if they’re actually present or just a glitch in the Matrix. The Laptop Acrobat treats their device like a fidget spinner, giving us motion sickness as their camera angle changes every 30 seconds. Perhaps most disturbing is the Unintentional ASMR Artist – muted but not really, treating us to a close-up of their nasal passages while they obliviously snack on something disturbingly crunchy.

The real magic happens when someone discovers virtual backgrounds. Suddenly we’re treated to the floating head effect, where colleagues appear as disembodied spirits haunting the Taj Mahal or the surface of Mars. Hair phases in and out of existence like a bad Star Trek transporter accident. Yet no one says anything – we all politely pretend it’s completely normal to conduct business with people who look like they’re being digitally digested by the software.

These technological tragedies persist because of our collective unwillingness to be “that person” who sends the awkward “Your Camera…” chat message. So we suffer in silence, taking bets on how long it will take someone to realize they’re broadcasting from their bathroom (again), and quietly thanking the mute button for sparing us from hearing what’s happening on their end. In this strange new world of remote work, we’ve all become accidental cinematographers – we just wish our coworkers would learn their camera’s zoom function before giving us an IMAX view of their nostrils.