I just read an article written by Kevin Roose and published recently by New York mag that starts: “At 6 a.m. on Friday, I wake up, fumble for my alarm, and roll out
of bed. As I walk to the kitchen to brew coffee, I think to myself: I am a cipher. I exist nowhere. My enemies could not find me, even if they tried. These thoughts come to me not because I fell asleep watching The Bourne Identity or took too much NyQuil before bed, but because I’m psyching myself up for a very difficult assignment. For the next 24 hours, I’m going to try to live completely surveillance-free.”