Labour is unrooted, dis-embedded, being made migrant the world over, creating people so vulnerable and atomized that they carry the marks of their improvishment in their bodies as oddity and illness. Cheap labour, scrounging a day here, a day there, a mass of bodies rendered worthless by ubiquity, fit to clean or lift, care or dig, mend or clear, yet invisible except as a threat, aliens among their own species. This condition is ontological, this is social difference, categorization, realized in the being of things.