Say Cheese
If someone chose to spy on me and checked my internet history they would most likely report me to the authorities first, and my mother second. I can just hear them now.
"OK ma'am. Can you tell us what you were doing looking up devices to make a cat explode on contact, foot fetishes...and jobs you totally are not qualified for---all within a 7 minute period?"
"What about on Tuesday January 21. Right here the history tells us you ran a search for new bedside tables, cheap David Sedaris tickets, common inhalants, self-cleaning fish tanks and ways to release the Ebola virus upon the United States from your dining room. You wanna tell us what that was all about?"
The internet is one big spy ring, complete with Spyware. Yeah, we've all got it. No big deal. So what.
Spying is becoming so ho-hum, isn't it? It used to be that only international agents with little cameras in their high heel shoes were the only ones with access to any sort of crazy spy gadgetry. We'd send a spy in a conspicuous outfit over to Russia to get some gossip and snap a photo of a top secret document. Russia would send their dude over here to get the document back. We'd ship the same dude back to Russia, but pay him more so now he's a double agent.
The good ole days. When spying was fun.
Funny how that changes when the person snapping photos could be across the street in a tree with a telephoto lens watching you, watch Raymond.
There are now legal stores dedicated to selling devices that help you catch people doing things they're not supposed to be doing. I find it interesting that there are so many people doing enough naughty things that it constitutes an industry. What the hell are people doing? And why am I so god damned boring?
I pity the poor fledgling spy who rigs up my apartment with his new camera. He could officially put a camera in every room, from every angle and bore himself to death within 12 minutes. I'm just not that interesting. I walk in. I stand around. I sit sometimes. That's pretty much it.
Cheese.
"OK ma'am. Can you tell us what you were doing looking up devices to make a cat explode on contact, foot fetishes...and jobs you totally are not qualified for---all within a 7 minute period?"
"What about on Tuesday January 21. Right here the history tells us you ran a search for new bedside tables, cheap David Sedaris tickets, common inhalants, self-cleaning fish tanks and ways to release the Ebola virus upon the United States from your dining room. You wanna tell us what that was all about?"
The internet is one big spy ring, complete with Spyware. Yeah, we've all got it. No big deal. So what.
Spying is becoming so ho-hum, isn't it? It used to be that only international agents with little cameras in their high heel shoes were the only ones with access to any sort of crazy spy gadgetry. We'd send a spy in a conspicuous outfit over to Russia to get some gossip and snap a photo of a top secret document. Russia would send their dude over here to get the document back. We'd ship the same dude back to Russia, but pay him more so now he's a double agent.
The good ole days. When spying was fun.
Funny how that changes when the person snapping photos could be across the street in a tree with a telephoto lens watching you, watch Raymond.
There are now legal stores dedicated to selling devices that help you catch people doing things they're not supposed to be doing. I find it interesting that there are so many people doing enough naughty things that it constitutes an industry. What the hell are people doing? And why am I so god damned boring?
I pity the poor fledgling spy who rigs up my apartment with his new camera. He could officially put a camera in every room, from every angle and bore himself to death within 12 minutes. I'm just not that interesting. I walk in. I stand around. I sit sometimes. That's pretty much it.
Cheese.
posted by Tara Callahan at 9:39 PM
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