1. 
Confined to my body that,
vulnerable to sickness and death, 
is now confined to my house
I render another self.

This one low resolution,
poor quality,
optimized file size

A Crap Self.

2.
My Crap Self travels at high velocity.

It roams the web
with other semblances of myself
comprised of leaky data.

My Crap Self evades surveillance.
It does not have enough detail,
nor resolution,
to be recognizable as me.

My Crap Self exists in places where I am not
to throw off my scent.

My Crap Self lives only in the present.
It is not an archive or a search history
nor a mechanism of prediction.

3.
My Crap Self consumes electricity.
But no food or water.

My Crap Self has no mass and no drag.
It never decelerates.

4.
My Crap Self does not experience alienation.
It has no boundaries.

De-materialized,
It can hybridize with other forms.

5.
My Crap Self does not age.
But it decays.
As is decays it becomes even Crappier,
faster, and more fluid.
“In this light, perhaps one has to redefine the value of the image, or, more precisely, to create a new perspective for it. Apart from resolution and exchange value, one might imagine another form of value defined by velocity, intensity, and spread. Poor images are poor because they are heavily compressed and travel quickly. They lose matter and gain speed. But they also express a condition of dematerialization, shared not only with the legacy of Conceptual art but above all with contemporary modes of semiotic production. Capital’s semiotic turn, as described by Félix Guattari, plays in favor of the creation and dissemination of compressed and flexible data packages that can be integrated into ever-newer combinations and sequences.”

“On the one hand, it [the poor image] operates against the fetish value of high resolution. On the other hand, this is precisely why it also ends up being perfectly integrated into an information capitalism thriving on compressed attention spans, on impression rather than immersion, on intensity rather than contemplation, on previews rather than screenings.”

— Hito Steyerl
“In Defense of the Poor Image”
The Wretched of the Screen



"The question of nonexistence is this: how does one develop techniques and technologies to make oneself unaccounted for? A simple laser pointer can blind a surveillance camera when the beam is aimed directly at the camera’s lens. With this type of cloaking, one is not hiding, simply nonexistent to that node. The subject has full presence but is simply not there on the screen. It is an exploit. Elsewhere, one might go online but trick the server into recording a routine event. That’s nonexistence. One’s data is there, but it keeps moving, of its own accord, in its own temporary autonomous ecology. This is “disingenuous” data, or data in camouflage as not—yet—data. Tactics of abandonment are positive technologies; they are tactics of fullness. There is still struggle in abandonment, but it is not the struggle of confrontation, or the bureaucratic logic of war. It is a mode of non-existence: the full assertion of the abandonment of representation. Absence, lack, invisibility, and nonbeing have nothing to do with nonexistence. Nonexistence is nonexistence not because it is an absence, or because it is not visible, but precisely because it is full. Or rather, because it permeates. That which permeates is not arbitrary, and not totalizing, but tactical."

"Of course, nonexistence has been the concern of antiphilosophy philosophers for some time. Nonexistence is also a mode of escape, an “otherwise than being.” Levinas remarks that “escape is the need to get out of oneself.” One must always choose either being or nonbeing (or worse, becoming . . .). The choice tends to moralize presence, that one must be accounted for, that one must, more importantly, account for oneself, that accounting is tantamount to self-identification, to being a subject, to individuation."

— Alexander R. Galloway and Eugene Thacker
“Tactics of Nonexistence”
The Exploit: A Theory of Networks