Writing for the Carnivore.
Ich bin laden mit eine burde.
So much has changed since 911, for me it was an Horizon Event. It changed the way I look at the world. It used to be that I could wander the byways and highways without thinking too much about who was watching, without looking over my shoulder to take a bearing on who was being observed and who was observing. I lived in a bubble, surrounded by private thoughts, oblivious to what others around me were doing. No more. I’m paying attention to my rear view mirror now, to the innocent looking stranger with a five o’clock shadow at the checkout, to the secret policeman across the airplane aisle. I’m writing for the Carnivore now, the sniffers who read e-mail.
When you look at the world through a viel, your perception is limited. When you write to the carnivore, your words may take on special meaning.
Could I infuse my words with terror without knowing? Could this be da bomb? It’s hard to know which interpretation will prevail. Street talk can be confusing to the uninitiated. That’s the whole point of sub-culture, to develop a patois that is unique to the group. When the sniffer samples your mail, will they get your gist? Will they confuse an innocent statement for an elaborate trigger for an upper story job? Can you belong to sub-culture or must we all be dominant-culture types? Can you write jet fuel in your personal mail without the feds putting your name on the list? Can you send an e-mail without becoming a terrorist suspect? Are we all suspects?
In a free society, speech is protected. In this free society writing is not. It is subjected to an analysis which is a deeply held secret. When you write an e-mail that triggers the carnivore, your name and e-mail address shows up on a list. I have to assume that my name is on that list, and that everything I write is being read by an extremely paranoid personality that is nowhere in my address book. I too could be paranoid. Or they could be watching. If I assume they are not watching then I have to hope that I don’t inadvertently violate an obscure provision of a federal code that even lawyers have difficulty understanding. If I assume they are watching, which I do, then of necessity I must send a copy of everything I write to my newspaper editor.
You see my dear, anything I send to my editor takes on the protection that is only guaranteed by the press. So honey, in this, The First American Republic, I’m sharing my personal thoughts, I’m telling you how very much I love you, and I’m sending a copy to the newspaper. Because the last thing I want for you or for me, is to have the feds crash through my door and confiscate my hard drive.
Did we as a nation succumb to terrorism? You bet we did.
I'm doing this to preserve my sanity or perhaps in the hope of gaining a modicum of sanity......I ended the first week in February by thrashing my hard drive and everything on it. I decided to start in on my New Years resolution, ( six months late ) with a new identity...YOURS!
Just disregard the bills, that's what I usually do with the bills I get from whoever it was that stole my previous identity.
What is the world coming to? Pretty soon we'll all be watching Soap Operas as our goods flow effortlessly from robot controlled factories through UPS and Fedex right to our doors.
If we all purchase more goods will all the bad go away?
Bob