In the essay that accompanies this map, I write: One maps one's fears, one's desires: old maps teem with monsters and maelstroms lying low in the waters that lead to promised lands. Modern maps only chart these same interests with more precision. Out on the plains, in Wyoming, the monsters crawl through cold stiffened grasses, creep quietly under the cover of the whistling wind. But mapping, the locating, it gives no respite and often leads nowhere. I go on to talk about the mapping of registered sex offenders that is mandated federally. I was interested in these maps because they seem to provide a false sense of security for community members to rely on them to identify the dangers that surround them. But like most maps, I felt that the information presented was loaded with material that wasn't questioned, and didn't present itself as questionable when offered up in the two-dimensional, and I mean in the literal sense and metaphorical sense of format of the map. I hope this map encourages its viewers to consider the contents of this map and others more attentively in the future. While maps can be and often are excellent beacons, they are also wrought with subjectivity.