Comic Strip of the Day

CSotD: Raiders of the Lost Lemont

Candorville
Today's Candorville revives the fear of the previous generation: What if Big Brother can watch, but wouldn't bother?

At the turn of the century, there was a sitcom called "Dharma and Greg," about an uptight guy from an uptight family married to the free-spirited daughter of flower children. In one of the two or three episodes I watched, the family discovers that Dharma's ex-radical father, who has long spoken of how the FBI has targeted him, is of no interest to the feds at all, and so they try to shield him from the awful truth by creating a phony file for him to steal.

Most of the show dealt in vapid TIME Magazine stereotypes, but that one kind of struck home, because I knew a lot of people who felt they were being spied on back in the day, and a few who clearly were.

One of the results of the Watergate scandal was a greater scrutiny of such matters, from which escaped the facts of COINTELPRO, the dirty-tricks campaign Hoover waged against dissidents of the era. It wasn't much news to anyone on the left, but it helped dismiss the responses of "You're paranoid" and "They wouldn't do that." 

We weren't paranoid, and, not only would they do it, but they did.

After the facts emerged, there came a point at which the feds announced that (A) you had a right to see your file and (B) they intended to destroy the ones that proved to be inconsequential.

This brought up an interesting dilemma for most people who had demonstrated for civil rights or marched against the war or played guitar or worn a paisley shirt or what-have-you, because, if you didn't have a file, asking to see it sure felt like a good way to get one started or to get an existing file upgraded from "inconsequential."

I always figured that the only reason I would have a file would be if they started separate files for everyone who appeared in someone else's file. If that were the case, my "file" would hold a single piece of paper listing two or three times my name was on a list of names in a file about somebody far more interesting.

There were people who we knew for certain were under FBI surveillance, and most of them were such small fish that it made you wonder what they planned to do with all this information they were collecting. Especially since people we thought they probably ought to move on never seemed to have anyone move on them. 

And then, when I saw the final scene of "Raiders of the Lost Ark," where the recovered ark is being more completely lost than it was to begin with, I said, "Oh, there's all that information they were collecting: fourteenth pallette in the third row from the right."

This is how underwear bombers get on airplanes while five-year-old kids are being pulled out of line because their names are on the no-fly list: Keeping track of everybody is, in practice, pretty much like keeping track of nobody at all.

Now, I only have a stupid phone, so, as I understand it, Big Brother doesn't know where I am unless I make a phone call while I'm there. Let me save him some trouble: Livingroom, bathroom, kitchen, bedroom, dog park, grocery store.

But for those, like Lemont, who have Smart Phones, the issue becomes more fraught, because the damn thing apparently sends out a constant stream of information, even when it's idle. Should you be concerned that someone is logging all your activities? 

I'd say, yes, if you're worried about wasteful government spending.

Or if you really feel that some crook is going to the trouble of going on-line to monitor your Smart Phone information stream rather than just randomly wandering through your neighborhood to see whose car is gone and whose lights are out.

In which case you should switch on your phone, mail it to another state and then wait in your darkened livingroom with a baseball bat.

That'll learn'em!

(You knew this one was coming.)

Previous Post
CSotD: Cartoon Classic: Sex, Politics and Mudslinging
Next Post
CSotD: Reality-based cartooning

Comments 5

  1. In which case you should switch on your phone, mail it to another state and then wait in your darkened livingroom with a baseball bat.
    Or you could buy a cell phone but never turn it on and live in a place you call a “fort.” I’m sure that works, too. Pretty sure. Probably. Maybe.

  2. Dammit, I keep forgetting that html tags don’t “take” in comments here. That first paragraph was supposed to be in italics as a quote.

  3. I think my phone is probably a dumb one, but since I hardly ever turn it on, it probably couldn’t collect much information on me even if it wanted to. I (a) don’t want to be in touch all that much, (b) don’t *need* to be in touch all that much, and (c) don’t want to carry around something that’s smarter than I am. Is this a sign of getting old?
    OTOH, I did try working on a new skill set last week: I walked down the street and talked on my phone at the same time. I couldn’t chew gum, but I did manage to fart. (And anyone who gets that reference is no spring chicken, either.)

  4. Hey, hey, LBJ, how many times did you fart today?
    Just yesterday I had a conversation with three guys who are considerably older than I am. We all agreed that we could use somebody with LBJ’s skill set in the White House now.

  5. There was a better song, unfortunately they took the web post down. But the lyrics remain.
    Sung the tune of “I Just Called To Say I Love You?”
    by Handelsman
    http://abcnews.go.com/WN/story?id=3363729&page=1
    http://www.concurringopinions.com/archives/2006/07/nsa_surveillanc_5.html
    Each time you dial
    We start a file
    the private things you discuss
    we then compile
    The stuff we hear
    Like if you are queer
    Or purchase “Girls gone wild” tapes
    Six times this year
    You had privacy
    Till recently
    But now that friggin’ Bill of rights
    Don’t mean jack to me
    Now congress may
    Complain all day
    But they just made our boss
    The head of the cia
    You just called and we were listening
    You just called to check in on your mom
    Our encryption guys
    Heard the whole thing
    They think chicken soup
    Is codeword for a bomb
    You just called and we were listening
    While you talked
    We were as quiet as a mouse
    You just said
    You Aunt Gertrude is visiting
    Now we wonder if Ossama is in your house
    In your house (We are gonna check)
    Is he in your house?
    And a small animation of the NSA guys in a room…
    from
    http://www.schneier.com/blog/archives/2006/06/nsa_eavesdroppi_1.html
    Hello, N.S.A.
    words and music by Roy Zimmerman © 2006 (Watunes)
    Hello, N.S.A.
    I just called you to say
    I love you because you
    Really listen
    When I’m on the phone
    Now I never feel alone
    ‘Cause you’re out there with your headphones
    And you really listen
    Hush now, don’t say a word
    It’s enough to know my words are being heard
    And we’re fighting freedom here at home so we don’t have to fight it over there
    Now, my own sweet Marie never listens to me
    Not my brother or even my Mama
    But when they’re on the line, I know you hear me whine
    Take that, Osama!
    Won’t you please tell Condoleezza
    I ordered extra cheese
    And I love her ’cause she’s out there
    Here’s how I know:
    Not a stain on a dress
    But a leak nonetheless
    Tells me so
    So, hello, N.S.A…men
    from
    http://www.royzimmerman.com/lyrics/faulty_nsa.html

Comments are closed.

Search

Subscribe to our newsletter

Get a daily recap of the news posted each day.