About 190 miles southeast of Los Angeles and 120 feet below sea level, a commune of outcasts lives in the middle of the desert. They’re not some hippie colony, just a group of people who have turned their backs on society and want to be left alone. On this bare, arid plain, we see a mobile home here and there, a car or an impromptu house. The people who live here answer to imaginative names like Bulletproof, Insane Wayne and Bus Kenny. They kill time with messing around, doing odd jobs, talking and living. For some of them, this desolate place with no electricity or running water is a temporary address, while for others it’s a permanent vacation. Everyone has his or her own reason for being here, and especially a reason not to be somewhere else.