Aside from the few weeks when I was hired by the Federal Government, as part of their program to employ disadvantaged youth, during which I worked on a demolition crew tearing down fire damaged condemned buildings, my over ten years otherwise spent exclusively on the underground economy always serves to inspire me when the time is officially quantified in this document by the Federal Department of Taxation and Finance Social Security Administration. The precise glares from deeply blinding small ovals of white paper enframed by the numeral zero, no-things evasive like horizon, literally refer to the amounts of my governmentally untrackable income, and a wild, undomesticated life. As statistics, the zeros promote official ignorance about activities I undertook to generate money outside the scope of authoritarian approval and social respectability. The pleasureably complicit curvealinear marks exist here before the eyes as such a tangible material monument to real Liberty obtained yet through the centers of those zero marks swirls a vast blank from which flows metaphysical expression of source where all freedom originates and resides. One thing that comes to my mind, especially these days, when I gaze at this excremental dust mote from the government datacloud, is how for ten years nothing I did enabled the government to extract any money from me to pay for building bombs and dropping them on people. When periodically mailed this mute totem of my total escape from the deathculture, I become hushed, placid and reverentially thankful about never having really been allowed in by The White Order.
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