His talents in full flower and basking in public admiration, gonzo journalist and inveterate anti-establishment troublemaker Barrett Brown is jailed in his native Texas on various federal felony charges.
It is 2013 and Brownâs adventures have included helping publicly expose private U.S. intelligence contractors engaged in deep-state power abuses at a time of rising concerns over Big Brother surveillance.
Brown has done this in swashbuckling style â often in a drug-altered state, chatting with executives whose hacked emails have been dumped online while on opiate maintenance medication. Brown was in withdrawal from antidepressants and opioids, he would later testify, when he threatened an FBI agent in a video posted to YouTube.
âI wanted to become famous for overthrowing things,â Brown writes in his much-awaited memoir, âMy Glorious Defeats: Hacktivist, Narcissist, Anonymous.â
Mainstream press coverage at the time of Brownâs prosecution was uneven and sometimes just plain inaccurate. Beyond seeking to set the record straight, the book snapshots a pivotal moment in online activism, and pulls no punches.
Although not a hacker, Brown was a well-known actor/provocateur in the rise of hacktivism, a powerful skein of political activism pioneered by the likes of that tapped the internet to expose wrongdoing and spur change. That includes supporting Tunisiaâs 2011 popular uprising.
Those shenanigans preceded of wholesale unauthorized șĂÉ«tv Security Agency surveillance of the U.S. public, which would erase doubts about their righteousness.
Brown is a showman, a gifted writer in the tradition of William Burroughs and Hunter S. Thompson. He also has a knack for self-sabotage and has struggled with heroin addiction and depression. He is currently in Britain engaged in a legal struggle for political asylum.
A self-described âanarchist revolutionary with a lust for insurgency,â Brown became a cause celebre of press freedom champions a decade ago, a hero of stick-it-to-the-man radicals.
The bulk of the charges he faced in 2013 were unfounded computer crimes, absurd overreach. The likes of the and insisted they be dropped â and they were.
But Brown had crossed too many folks at the Department of Justice and FBI. Pleading guilty to reduced charges, including for interfering with a federal investigation, Brown would end up spending four years in prison, ordered to pay more than $800,000 in restitution.
His escapades would extend to prison activism and, later, exposing allegedly racist police misconduct. Among observations from his experiences with Aryan gangs behind bars: âAn American prison is many things, among them a Nazi training camp.â
Before his 2015 sentencing, Brown was for a time under a judicial gag order because he wouldnât stop discussing his case with reporters.
So he began penning a series of jailhouse articles that included a scathing . Some netted him a șĂÉ«tv Magazine Award.
âThe public wants to be entertained. And unlike most wrongfully prosecuted political dissidents the world over, I just so happened to be an entertainer,â Brown writes of his winning formula.
Indeed, Brownâs persona in those articles is pretty much what we get in the memoir â âcharmingly self-deprecating, winkingly narcissistic, comprehensively self-aware â and even candid.â Publications that carried his byline have included The Guardian, Vanity Fair, The Huffington Post and The Intercept.
But the fun-and-games end after Brownâs 2016 prison release. Some former close allies become âdespised enemies.â A close collaborator dies of an overdose. An ambitious online project for researching and exposing wrongdoing â Pursuance â fizzles.
This is far from a happily-ever-after story. Having alienated many who once held him in high esteem, Brown attempted suicide in 2022,
In an email exchange this week, Brown said heâs now âactually pretty happy on a day-to-day basisâ but also said âI donât read anymore and Iâm no longer able to bring myself to write, which hurts a great deal.â
The memoirâs last chapter was difficult to pen.
âI was deeply wounded by much of what I discovered about the last decade when it became my job to see all this completely and accurately,â he writes.
Long gone is the âformidable and serious network of noble saboteursâ who encouraged Brown to action, in the words of , as âa defiant and cocky 29-year-old college dropoutâ who called himself a senior strategist for Anonymous.
This reviewer will refrain from further delving into the drama of Brownâs troubled legacy and current legal predicament. Between the memoir and continued online feuding, thereâs plenty more to come.
Itâs pretty much all out there on the internet.
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