Dear Big Brother

I think I mentioned I got one of those camera tickets. Actually, it's a video ticket, because I finally got to watch the entirety of my crime--I did not, regrettably, stop at the limit line and so I will HAVE to go to traffic school--making a right turn on Grand and Venice in Los Angeles. I knew they snapped you, potentially, at intersections, but I did not know that, as a friend of mine said, I'd get my 30 seconds (or less) of fame, while trying to get my car serviced at the local dealer. I did it. And so I must pay. But the larger issue has really, really bothered me since, the one where maybe it isn't such a bad idea to be paranoid. Cause anything you do can be recorded by just about anyone. The worst thing though is that the government is doing it too, and ain't that right out of George Orwell? Along with the Captivate Screen in my elevator at work that I can't stop looking at as I wend my way to my floor. I am being watched, AND PROGRAMMED. While I am drinking my Starbucks, which probably has some special ingredient in it, I have been told, to make me want another cup. Ok, I am joking. Am I?

Maybe.

Or maybe we should be worried. Maybe we should be forming anti-1984 groups in 2008. Or maybe it's too late and we are already in the sociological petrie dish and to quote the Borg, "Resistance is futile."

Maybe we are doomed. On that happy note, I say goodnight, and remember that this entry is forever locked in the techno-cosmos in my nightmares.