Tim Barrus: the New York Times
I’ve gone deeper than you can know. I feel secure enough about it to let some of it slip out into your universe of hate and complicity. So deeply off the grid, I want you to know it can still be done.
It’s cold out there. In a world where there are over 50,000 homeless American children. I have built a safe house of warmth and kindred networks. It isn’t easy, but it’s deep. It’s also nomadic. Historically, you had to find Native Americans before you could kill them, and you have failed to kill all of them. Friedman does not go deep enough. Deep is liquid. Deep is my face covered by a black surgical mask and hoodie if I make videos we share among us if we are in different locations. Deep is adaptable.
Deep never, ever stands still.
Why hide.
No one trusts you. You have created cultures that do not take care of the vulnerable. You wash your hands of them as if they are only failures to you because they are deeply inadequate.
It is the word itinerant that is versatile and remains in deep disguise. Going deep means peripatetic definitions that keeps technology guessing. In order for technology to play a game of Wac-A-Mole, once the game starts, the moles leap up like popcorn at random, and one hits them on the head with a mallet if one can. Usually, one cannot.
Deep is as quick as light, and the more deep you are, the higher the score will be. Radically deep brings the throwaways in from the cold where you can’t find them with your rendering of what a child of failure is.