Fake job ads, fake job applicants...I'm starting to think I was accidentally prescient when I found my bookbinding hobby a few years back.
Oh, they're nothing fancy, just perfect-bound with card covers and spines hand-lettered in silver paint on black bookbinder's tape. But they're workmanlike and sturdy and sound in the hand, and maybe it'll be worth someone's value to own words that not only have obviously been labored over at length, but that never change even when no one is looking at them.
Why not, I suppose. Printed words are already becoming a luxury, with the decline in material and workmanship in modern hardbound "prestige" editions reflecting their place among the economy of aspirational, status- and status-anxiety-signaling goods. Obviously I would have no market among these dreary neoliberal bourgeoisie, but I'm sure there are a few perverts on websites like this one who'd pay more for the produce of hours in an attic over hand tools and muttered swears, for something that even if it's just a trade paperback still feels and reads the way a book should.