answer:People often accuse me of being an adventurer. I’m a radical, an anarchist, a union organizer; I’ve been to jail, through all the courts, been interviewed hundreds, perhaps thousands of times by every conceivable type of media; I’ve had guns pointed at my head — more than once, threatened with knives, teargassed, peppersprayed, beaten with truncheons, had bones broken by riot police, bitten by police dogs, and trampled by police horses; I’ve found listening devices in my home, and had full-colour death threats with my photo on them posted to telephone poles all over the city; I’m a published writer, a pornographer, and a professional digital artist; I once, briefly, held the world record for highest score on Zaxxon. In short, my life has been unusual. And that’s how people become “adventurers.” When I go for a walk with friends, they are always astounded that weird, out-of-the-normal things happen to me constantly. It’s not that I was born a weirdness magnet, it’s that most people are trained not to see. I have never passed a person crying and not offered to help. I’ve never ignored a person who tried to get my attention. I’ve never dismissed a single living soul or refused to listen to what they have to say, no matter how they’re dressed or how unlikely their story seems. I have never followed an instruction without question, no matter how much I was threatened, or how dire the consequences of doing so. When most people hear or see a violent commotion, their natural instinct is to depart, while mine is to head straight towards it. I keep my life very simple, my personal possessions minimal, and my responsibilities small, so that I can throw everything away at any time if it should occur to me that it’s time to go to prison or spend a year living in a tent. The kinds of people you see on National Geographic, people like Jacques Cousteau or Thor Heyerdahl, are similar to me but much, much more so. They’ll risk their lives on a daily basis without a thought, laughing all the while, but at the same time being capable of throwing away five irreplacable years in academia or apprenticeships acquiring the skills which allow them to not only survive but thrive in situations where angels fear to tread. Anyone can be an adventurer. Anyone. All it takes is a willingness to leave normalcy behind forever, and being prepared at all times to throw away everything on an instant’s notice to take advantage of events which normal people not only pass by, but don’t even see.