Tim Barrus Blog
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It Is Not a Dialogue
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Tim Barrus and the New York Times
A Dialogue
You hate us. We are not all alike. Life is mainly making widgets. The neurodiverse are exactly that. Diverse.
No one makes widgets like we do. Some of us can wear the mask on and off. I never take it off…
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NYT Aspergers
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I was diagnosed as high functioning Aspergers as a kid. Asperger was a Nazi monster. I deplore even writing his name. I used to say: I Hate School. Now, I say: School hated me. Never unmask. Too dangerous. Never talk to teachers. Keep your hands folded on your desk. Do…
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Bikes In Rain
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Tim Barrus: Bikes In Rain
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The Capulets
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For personal identity to even exist, the original narrative self, a controlled humiliation, becomes entangled with participatory regret.
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Cross Walk
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There is no one with crutches in this photographic collage. There is no one in a wheelchair Krossing the Street in this photographic collage. There is no one with a cane in this photographic collage. There is one person who is kinda lost here but I can still kneel in…
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DIRT BIKETOWN
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The earth makes you feel the earth. You will know gravity and what a gravity well is.
It’s about surviving the experience. You try to make it all look normal. It takes me about three hours to put on the full mask. Go out there and sparkle. Who says go…
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The Supreme Court is a Pornography
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You will not read this. I am not allowed to even be in the New York Times. I am about to use a word that is appropriate. Also provocative. It is not uncivil to speak of the arrogance because the arrogance of the Supreme Court is real.
The Supreme Court…
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It’s About the Lamp
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It’s about the lamp. There is no light on. I put a red blob where the advertising action is supposed to be somewhere near the middle because advertisers and super smart people in advertising (and that would include you and me, he said), have researched addiction, sex, obfuscation, identity, and…
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trailer
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Tim Barrus Art
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Sometimes, a Tunnel
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Americans do not suddenly start dancing in the middle of the street. I wonder if we are depraved. You can try to get away with it in Paris. Usually, you can.