nilesfunnies

Monday, July 04, 2005

[nilesfunnies] Fw: "Sitting back, blinded by the torrent of snowflakes against the


"Sitting back, blinded by the torrent of snowflakes against the
window, yet completely safe under electronic control, Jan finally
faced up to what was disturbing him. There, right before him, was the
evidence. The circle of tiny holes around the centre of the steering
wheel. Monitoring his breath. He could not drive and escape them.
Inlets to an analyser that detected the parts per million of alcohol
on his breath, that only permitted him to drive the car when he was
legally sober. An intelligent idea to prevent accidents: an
insinuating, humiliating idea when viewed as part of the bigger
picture of continuous observation.

This, and his other personal data, were stored in the car's memory,
could be transmitted to the highway computer - and from there to the
Security memory banks. A record of his breath, his drinking, his
reaction time, where he drove - whom he drove with. And when he went
home the Security cameras in the garage and halls would follow him
carefully to his front door - and beyond. While he watched TV the set
would be watching back, an invisible policeman gazing out from the
screen.

His phone monitored, indetectable bugs planted in the wiring. Find
and remove them - if possible - and his voice would within the room
would then be monitored by focussing a laser beam on the glass of his
windows. Data and more data would be continuously fed to some hidden
secret file - where all the rest of the facts of his life were
already recorded.

He had never thought seriously about it before, but he realized for
the first time that he existed as two people. The flesh and blood
person, and the duplicate electronic file. His birth had been
recorded as well as all pertinent medical information. His education,
his dental record, financial record and purchases. What books he
bought, what presents he gave. Was it all on file somewhere? With a
sinking feeling he realized that it probably was...

...And nothing he could do about it. He had tried, done his bit for
the resistance, helped in a small way. But now if was over. Raise his
head and it would be chopped off. Life wasn't that bad. Be glad he
wasn't a prole, condemned to that existence for all the days of his
years.

Must he stop? Couldn't it be changed? But even as the rebellious
thoughts possessed him he realized that his heartbeat had increased,
the muscles in his arm tensed as he made an inadvertent fist.
Physiological changes that could be monitored, observed, considered.

He was a prisoner in an invisible cell. Make one step out of it and
it would be the end.

For the first time in his life he had the realization what freedom
was, what he did not have. What lack of liberty was all about."

(Extract from Homeworld by Harry Harrison, 1980.)

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