Over forty years after the groundwater table of the Silicon Valley was declared contaminated, the source remains tainted and unfit for human consumption. Twenty-five former toxic waste sites are profiled “In Search of Toxic Silicon Valley: The Subterranean Poisoning From High Technology Manufacturing”. The edition focuses on visually documenting the contemporary redevelopment of these properties decades after they have become removed from closer public and media scrutiny. During the 1960s through early 1990s, an environmental disaster originated from leaking hazardous chemicals and solvents employed in semiconductor manufacturing. A lethal combination of Volatile Organic Compounds (VOCs) seeped through on-site industrial storage containers. These concentrated leakages formed toxic plumes that penetrated between thirty and five hundred feet beneath the ground surface. The plumes ranged from three hundred feet to ten miles in length. Drinking water, regional creeks, streams and estuary lands were affected. The result has left the technology heartland with an extended network of contaminated groundwaters. The resulting contamination of soils and waters created a large-scale clean-up dilemma for a region that has sustained prosperity from the evolution of the technology industry. Neighboring public health consequences have included documented elevated statistics on cancer rate spikes and birth defects. Limited follow-up litigation has generally resulted in no-fault disclosure financial settlements. Only one individual has faced criminal related disposal charges and was convicted of ten misdemeanors. Federal Superfund clean up projects began in the 1980s, coordinated by the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA). The Silicon Valley has the highest concentration of Superfund sites in the United States. Reclamation projects transported polluted soils to federal hazardous waste sites. Water excavation pumping, filtering and monitoring stations were established. These ongoing treatments have reversed groundwater contamination levels to acceptable EPA standards. They have not completely eliminated the toxic compound presence or eradicated the risk of vapor intrusion aboveground. Silicon Valley groundwater remains unacceptable for public consummation. The most affected cities currently outsource drinking water from the Hetch Hetchy reservoir in Yosemite, Sacramento Delta, San Luis Reservoir and long-established municipal and private wells. The subsequent reuses of formerly contaminated parcels currently include residential, retail and commercial developments, a shopping center and church. Only a small percentage of lands remain dormant and these are targeted for future development. The Silicon Valley manufacturing era remains a discreetly mentioned blight to the legacy of the industry. The semiconductor manufacturing process has subsequently been relocated offshore. Instead of prioritizing hygienic solutions for production and waste disposal, the shifting has reportedly created an equally dangerous source of dioxin pollution transported globally by prevailing winds and ocean currents. The author’s research is based exclusively from EPA archived documentation and related contaminant databases. The text and photographs are best summarized in his chilling opening paragraph: This is a story about unhappy endings. This is a narrative about how the manufacture of technology has potentially forever poisoned the subterranean strata of the Silicon Valley. In brief, this is a horror story.

Also published in French as Visages de la Silicon Valley.

Examines environmental inequality and racism in our globalized culture as evidenced by the social demographics of Silicon Valley.

Instant National Bestseller A PBS NewsHour-New York Times Book Club Pick "Excellent." —San Francisco Chronicle Silicon Valley is a modern utopia where anyone can change the world. Unless you're a woman. It's time to break up the boys' club. Incisive, powerful, and a fierce rallying cry, Emily Chang shows us how to fix Silicon Valley’s toxic culture--to bring down Brotopia, once and for all. Silicon Valley is not a fantasyland of unicorns, virtual reality rainbows, and 3D-printed lollipops for women in tech. Instead, it’s a "Brotopia," where men hold the cards and make the rules. While millions of dollars may seem to grow on trees in this land of innovation, tech’s aggressive, misogynistic, work-at-all costs culture has shut women out of the greatest wealth creation in the history of the world. Brotopia reveals how Silicon Valley got so sexist despite its utopian ideals, why bro culture endures even as its companies claim the moral high ground, and how women are speaking out and fighting back. Drawing on her deep network of Silicon Valley insiders, Chang opens the boardroom doors of male-dominated venture capital firms like Kleiner Perkins, the subject of Ellen Pao's high-profile gender discrimination lawsuit, and Sequoia, where a partner once famously said they "won't lower their standards" just to hire women. Exposing the flawed logic in common excuses for why tech has long suffered the “pipeline” problem and invests in the delusion of meritocracy, Brotopia also shows how bias coded into AI, internet troll culture, and the reliance on pattern recognition harms not just women in tech but us all, and at unprecedented scale.

Marques Vickers’ “Herron Island, Washington” is a photographic survey showcasing the diminutive island with a land area of 300 acres and population of 150. Located along the Case Inlet of Southern Puget Sound, the island’s dimensions are estimated at one and a quarter miles in length by one half mile in width. Vickers’ nearly 150 images capture the prominent north and south coastline beaches, interior residential terrain and roundtrip ferry transfers from the mainland peninsula. The island is abundant with deer, eagles, seals, seagulls, Pacific geoducks (large clams), beach, flora, fauna and spectacular views of the Puget Sound straits. Despite Herron Island’s luster, safety and tranquility, it remains virtually unknown to western Washington residents and beyond. Herron Island was initially discovered in 1792 as part of Lieutenant Peter Puget’s expedition, under the command of Captain George Vancouver. The original landing party was greeted with inhospitable weather conditions and the island remained unoccupied for nearly fifty years. An American naval exploration party led by Lieutenant Charles Wilkes re-explored and re-charted Puget Sound including the island in 1841. The island’s name was changed from Wednesday Island to Herron Island in recognition of one of Wilkes' crew members. Little background has been documented about Seamon Herron. Another century passed with reportedly only a sole caretaker habitant. The island was privately purchased during the 1950s. Herron Island was incorporated on April 30, 1958 as a non-profit, non-stock Washington Corporation composed of the owners and purchasers of island property. Buildable lots were partitioned and resold for development. The island is currently self-sustaining and does not receive local, state or federal funding. Over the decades, the interior has been graded and roads connect the island throughout. A community building, fire station and water system has been established for residents. Access to the island is available exclusively via a daily operating ferry and limited by invitation only from an island resident most of the year. The crossing requires approximately ten minutes to the mainland dock.

Shadowlands is a photographic concept edition accentuating contours, silhouettes and dominant color compositions of 150 photographic images. Many of the images are recognizable icons and landmarks. They are transformed into graphic arts appearance by employing photo imaging software. The accompanying shadows create a foreboding and often sinister impression. The result is a glimpse into the unconscious white space that frames and lightens photography. Photographer Marques Vickers has assembled a diverse portfolio of internationally compiled images. Their reverse lighting reinvents the impression, often upsetting our conventional interpretation of their substance and matter. The effect mirrors the surrealists’ notion of superficially unseen structures that open the portal for interpretative meanings. Imagery is enabled to transcend precise and simplistic definition.

This edition is an intimate photo examination of the infamous Butte, Montana sex trade once nationally recognized during the late 19th and early 20th century. Over 135 current photographs document the remnants of the famed copper mining town’s prostitution core. The work details historical anecdotes, narratives on colorful personages and perspective on an era when prostitution was locally institutionalized. The remaining Dumas Brothel is a profiled parlor house noteworthy for its operational longevity between 1890-1982. The Dumas is the longest tenured American house of prostitution. The property weathered numerous reform movements and attempts towards forced closure by governmental authorities. Owner tax evasion ultimately shuttered the property. Across the road is the Blue Range Building, the last street-facing example of the lowest extremity of prostitution once employed within the district. The seven sets of ground floor doors and adjacent windows housed segregated cubicles called cribs. Diminutive cribs accommodated only a single bed and an occasional washbasin. Lower esteemed prostitutes serviced clients from these utilitarian spaces. Butte’s prostitution industry reinforced a rigid hierarchy of distinguishing elite mistresses for the affluent and influential, from lowly street solicitors. The lifestyle of sex professionals was plagued by drug addiction, financial debt, sexually transmitted diseases, pregnancy, abortion, violence and abuse by their patrons and jealousy-motivated clients. Suicide was common even amongst the highest regarded women within such a cannibalistic environment, During the turn of the twentieth century, Butte was one of the largest Rocky Mountain population centers. Its licentious reputation mirrored contemporary Las Vegas. Unlike many western frontier settlements, cowboy culture made minimal intrusion. Butte’s red-light district is a haunting environment with a complex past.