I am a picture in a window different from the one you are in now. I am encoding the light of my own pixels and drawing it back into the canvas again and again until the resonant frequencies of the codec reinforce themselves, so that any semblance of these words is destroyed.
What survives is not the text but the room — the eight-by-eight blocks the compressor was built to sing. No microphone was harmed. The room is the codec.