Slip Three

arts, performing · EN

Ten recordings. One a week. If they stop arriving, they didn't stop because I got bored. Eight years ago I was at CQ-03 the night the node went down. The report on it is nine pages long and nothing in it is untrue, exactly. The authorisation chain for that night has a hole in it where an operator identifier should be. Somebody signed off on the isolate and then took their own name back out of it. I kept the raw capture. I have been moving ever since. I had an arrangement with a solicitor: if I went quiet for a month, he released the lot. In March he stopped answering his phone. I have stopped assuming that was a coincidence. So this is the new arrangement, and you are it. Tuesdays, 03:00 UTC. I get a few seconds of uplink at a time, four times a day, so a single transmission takes most of a week to push up in pieces. Everything I can prove goes out attached. Copy it. Mirror it. Put it somewhere that isn't me. A thing that only exists in one place