Forgive me I realize that it’s been a while since I’ve written to you. I guess I've been having too much fun. You have no idea about what it’s like here now. In many respects, you were right, however, it certainly wasn’t the way in which you had envisioned. Let me explain.
Just a few days ago, I was on the phone with the phone company seeking some information. The pleasant sounding female automated voice at the other end suggested that I submit my voice for their voice recognition protection system. Intrigued, I followed her instructions. After replying to all her security identification questions she told me to repeat the special phrase for recording:
My name is xxx and this recorded voice belongs to #%X?!!-Inc. In a stupor I began to respond. In fact, the humiliating truth is, I repeated the entire phrase. She quipped "great! Now repeat one more time."
I think it was then that a strong unpleasant feeling began to surge from my stomach upwards. No, not vomit; rage (rage no longer consumes me, though I will not deny that I keep it for special occasions). George? This is the thing that I want to tell you.
It’s that you were right. You were right about big brother, just wrong in the way that it would mingle within our lives. Our world is pretty and bright. We can purchase it in parts or in whole and in any colour that we want. At times we may be perceived as vacuous, gormless, but we are too busy choosing the right skin colour to notice.
We have 24 hour television, convenience stores, gas stations, technical assistance and more! In our world everyone is beautiful and if they are not we have remedies and cures or money back guarantees. There is no grey, there is no monotone. It’s the overwhelming information that we are given and the intoxicating banality in which it is swaddled that seduce us.
Take for instance this recent story about a car thief who was convicted wholly because a mosquito was found in the stolen car carrying his suckled blood. We should feel good about this story right? The virtuous have nothing to be upset or worried about. But I’m worried George, very worried. I am worried that we aren’t worried enough.
It’s an outrage it is. It’s an outrage that my insides can become the property of a large corporate firm or a government security system that embrace its monetary profit as its principal interest. Always one must ask the question; what’s behind the one-month free subscription, the free bag of chips? At what cost and at who’s expense do we del$riously procure a graphite pencil? We mustn't delude ourselves; our toys and medals that parade our home will not save us or compensate for selling our soul.
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