He tells me that accountants are the gods of the current young millennium, the next heroes.  They make things happen or crush plans and projects in their place.  By seeking out obscure references and lines hidden in the ink black clouds of ambiguous paragraphs, they justify creation or dissolution.  The large or small company or government proceeds or laments on his or her say-so.  He is bridge-builder, she a supportive servicer who enables the poor and homeless.  She is a corporate Svengali creating profit out of despair, and destroying loss with the tap of a key.  He finds the legitimacy in some inane code, forgotten by nearly all.  Humble, this professional requires neither titles nor public recognition.  But we know these gods are behind everything good or bad, omnipresent and invaluable in destruction, when it is, of course, deemed necessary by the figurehead, or by someone of greater rank, or with a formidable title.  And when leaving work each night, just to be safe, just to be sure, each of them checks the label in his/her respective coat in order to ensure a fashionable propriety and to confirm his/her name.

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