My name is Hamish.
This is my online journal.

contact: hamishtenex at gmail.com

Saturday, 12 September 2009

Big Brother observe aussi bien.



My country was once written about in a way that was terrifying but all too familiar. It's not a new thing to say that "Nineteen Eighty-Four" became a self fulfilling prophecy for Britain, but I've had a couple of experiences that made me feel very differently about England and its neighbours.

I have a friend who lives in Ukraine and we took him on a road trip once, with no particular place to go. We just thought we'd show him Britain, maybe Ireland. It was weird because he hadn't really ever been to a city before. Not a large one, at least.

I've always noticed the cameras. They are everywhere, as the stories accurately report. Strangers tend to notice them too, but people who live here don't seem to see them. That's the way of things around here, outrages soon become normal as everyone realises there's nothing we can do about it anyway. My friend, Alek, noticed a few on our first day and commented on the Big Brother parallel.

"You've seen 10 cameras? How many times do you think you've been on camera today?" I asked him.

He shrugged.

The truth is, we'd been on camera over 300 times that day. Practically everything we did had been recorded. "300 times a day" is the general viral response when asked how many times the average Briton had been on camera in one day, but in this case, it was definately close to the mark.

"Who is watching?" Alek asked. I thought about it for a long time. So yes, everything I do is watched and there are some cameras that bother me more than others. At work, there is a security camera right behind my head. On the way to and from work, I can count 20 on the roads, not including speed cameras. In the city itself, where I live, its impossible to count. There are none on my road, as far as I can tell. But all these cameras must be watched by different people, even though I don't know who. Big Brother took a different shape then. Not as a secret ruler that I could blame all my troubles on, but actually another part of us. After all, who put the cameras there? And who didn't tear them down?

Alek also heard about the wind farms. There was nothing like that in his country at the time and there still isn't as far as I know. There happened to be one reasonably near where we were, or at least close enough to justify going to stare and the great big things. It was funny actually, after all the fuss there was about constructing them everywhere, I hadn't ever actually any.

We drove past a field with row upon row and giant towers, each one ominously looming over the next. Perfectly still. "They're not moving," said Alek.

"No." I said.

At the G20 protests earlier this year, the public came extaordinarilly close to rebelling against the police entirely. I thought about Alek then, as he constantly used to question some of the English normalities and its government and especially its people. Specifically, why we didn't seem to care enough to do "anything about anything", as he said.

A few months ago, the government were allowed to put cameras inside peoples homes to make sure that their kids went to bed at the right time in problem families. This was the main reason why the scheme was deemed such a good idea. About a month earlier, the police, with cameras mounted in their helmets were allowed to follow 'criminals' wherever they went, in case he commited another crime. The police would walk a few steps behind them and wait outside their house until they could follow them again. It successfully stopped more crimes being commited by this person but, as they all too often say, at what cost?

Bus stops currently threaten us with warnings from the police. A gently reminder not to break the laws that have been set for us. We are not allowed to take photos of buildings, specifically in London, there have been cases where the police have literally deleted photos off of someones camera. There are lots of quaint examples of this kind told every day in the newspaper, of all places. They're actually quite common.

The latest one that I heard yesterday was the new "You Could Be A Paeophile" database that 11 million people across the country will have to submit their details to if they have ever been near or even seen a child. There's a £65 fee to be on the database, of course, and you will also be subject to investigation. This was all done with the best intentions, I don't doubt. But there's a lot of "guilty until proven innocent" going on, which I'm certain does not sit well with most people.

It's not always for our protection though, as far as I can tell. Who could forget, or rather, why are we forgetting the £1 billion system that will give the Government access to our emails, text messages, phone calls and internet usage. Alek's words come back to me when he asked "Who is watching?" It gets confusing, I don't even know what they're looking for, let alone who's reading my stuff.

I am of the opinion that everyone has secrets and everyone has the right to them too. Although none of my secrets are dark and evil and I do not feel unsafe here, I don't like the idea that nothing is my own.

C'est la vie. Maybe it will all just go away.

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