This is a picture of my dad. I found it in a file on my secondary harddrive…i didn’t forget i had it. I just hadn’t looked at the drive for a while. Thanks to the Googlefying of the universe, I downloaded Picasa and let it troll thru my hard drives and dredge up all the images, most of which I had forgotten. Then it kindly presents themn in a nice thumbnail browser. I guess all these lovely software tools will inherently make it easier for the justice department to give us a complete inventory of all our crimes.
Whether we have used Google’s browser for porn or politics, we are all in the soup now.
They are sticking their little bots in all our ports and they are gonna fine SOMETHING, even if they have to make it up.
Zemyatin’s We, Wells’ 1984, Huxley’s Brave New World, THX 1138 – none of them prepared us for this. They gave us our distopian future as a fate accompli, done, finished. And they were scary, but they aren’t half as scary as watching it unfold right before our eyes, one violation at a time. Yesterday my library books, today my phone calls, tomorrow my internet searches. Each indecency piling on, until it is all one giant obscenity.
My dad was killed by a drunk driver within 3 months of this picture back in 1966. I was 3. I have no memories of him. But I have missed him everyday. My mother wasn’t cut out to be one, at least not by herself. My life would have been so much better if he had lived. I keep thinking our lives would be so much better now if Cheyney had died as a result of a drunk driver instead of being one.