When I think of labor, I conjure up images from the past -- from baking soda boxes, socialist realist posters, statues in the park and Thomas Hart Benton murals. I imagine heroic depictions of steelworkers, stevedores, lumberjacks, and farmers. They look strong enough to carry on one shoulder an I-bar, a tugboat, a redwood, or a cow, respectively.

But I'm thinking these traditional vocations may not be relevant to today's workplace, or today's workers. New processes and technologies have decimated the ranks of all of the great old manual labor groups. In their place are new groups, less brawny, but equally deserving.

With that in mind, I, as head curator of the Why Things Don't Work Institute, am looking to commission a mural for our great west wall. On it I hope to see depicted the new jobs, with the appropriate legends or mottoes inscribed underneath:

• The Power User. Well-oiled and buff, she is the John Henry of the techno set. She clasps a bolt of lightning in one hand and a microprocessor in the other, and holds her head back, laughing at the uninitiated. Legend: "Eat My Cyberdust."
• The Multi-Level Marketer. Smeared with the toil of a day's hard work, this overalled yeoman passes out oaken buckets full of cash to all who will accept his offer. Legend: "This Is the Most Important Letter You Will Ever Read."
• The Webmistress. A raven-haired, leather-clad webmistress stands to the side of a mighty highway leading into a gleaming crystal city. Legend: "Will Do CGI Scripting for Food."
• Tech-Support Professional. Beset by stinging asps and hornets symbolizing callers on hold, this tormented individual strains to endure the constant pain without hanging up. Legend: "If You Need Assistance with Windows 98, Push 1 on Your Touch Tone Phone."
• The Telemarketer. A powerfully muscled gentleman, naked from the waist up, sits at a push button telephone, an expression of consideration and concern rippling his brow. This figure cries out, sensitivity Legend: "Oh, I'm Sorry, Were You Just Sitting Down to Dinner?"
• The Internet Small Business Owner. A skeletal figure huddles in a cocoon of insect webs, surrounded by his wares. Legend: "Visa And Mastercard Accepted."
• The Executive Search Consultant. A towering figure in radiant gold, twirling a blinking human head on a stick. Legend: "Best of All, He's Community-Minded."
• The Initial Public Offering. Hosts of cherubim swarm around the figure of a goddess rising from the sea on some sort of sudsy scallop. Legend: "Yahoo!"
• The Repetitive Stress Injury Sufferer. Her willowy limbs heavily wrapped in Ace bandages, this alabaster heroine slides a tentative trackball of Carrera marble. Legend: "I Gave at the Office."
• The Software Programmer. Curious monkeys peer down from the treetops on a heavy- sinewed figure clasping a stone keyboard and a bronze C++ manual. Legend: "Greetings from Mumbai."
• The Job Seeker. The Job-Seeker labors under the hod of scrolled resumes he must carry with him. To every person he meets it is his fate to hand a scroll, then to be responded to with the legend: "We'll Put You in Our Files."
• The Welfare Hiree. Led to the new workplace like a prisoner to the gallows, this troubled woman bites a lip and wonders if she is up to the challenge. Legend: "I Hope the Kids Are OK with Aunt Estelle."
• The Spam Artist. This sinewy hero is shown shooting countless evil spirits from the nozzle of a firehose. Legend: "Neither polite requests nor angry threats will stay me from my nightly dumps."
• The Day Trader. As if besieged by serpents, the rippling figure of the Internet investor is encircled with telephone lines and stock tips. Legend: "Why Sleep? The Nikkei Is Still Open!"
• The Network Administrator. This mysterious four-faced figure appears to be running in four directions at once, omnipresent, yet moving too quickly to stop. Legend: "Have You Tried Rebooting?"
• The Graduate. An especially anguished portrait, this scholar of high attainments gazes up from his sorrows with an expression bespeaking innumerable sorrows, a headset cradling his paper hat. Legend: "Would You Like to Try a Value Meal Today?"
• The Telecommuter. This immense steroidal worker is cloaked in firetruck jammies and two days' growth of stubble. He is sitting at a computer terminal, and on the screen is an even more immense, steroid figure, hefting a smoking bazooka. Legend: "Body Count: 10,638 -- Advance to Level 23."