Wonderful, interesting, subversive people who travel inside this little black box of mine that wont let me in. But yet, every time I interact with one of these people I am inside. We are the inside because the margins are really the center because we see everything, how it works, and how to mess things up. The inside is a place of knowing while allowing revision of listening understanding hearing seeing caring loving being not forcing being truth when there is none a place to keep dry in the downpour warmth I have come to understand the Internet as a thing I should hate because it reifies traditional notions of oppressive categories life race, gender, class, sex, etc. I sit in front of this screen and realize that I become my machine.
Machines have extraordinary strength and logic while humans have extraordinary feelings.