Well, the time has come for me to start a professional, niche' blog. I'm calling it Media Kook and it will focus on Internet video and television as well as all things pertaining to the development of new media. Check it out. Who knows, I may even leave blogspot.
Media Kook: mediakook.blogspot.com
This is an essay that I wrote for an English class. None of the following statements are necessarily the views of the writer. Some are just simply thoughts put forward for discussion.
Constructive comments are welcome.
All rights are reserved. No publishing, reproducing, altering, or distributing any portion of this without the author's permission.
My Country, 'tis of who?: The Extended Version
The United States of America was founded on the principles of equality and liberty. These principals have guided this country into a period in history where gender and racial prejudices have disintegrated to the point where anyone from any race or gender can become leader of this country. However, despite these advances, this country has not achieved its goal of a "more perfect union," rather it shows signs that it is becoming less perfect every day. Due to the erosion of individual liberties, an increase a dramatic increase in surveillance, and an ever –widening disparity between two classes, the United States of America is devolving from a nation of freedom into a nation of fear, threatening to tear apart the country socially and economically; The United States' of America isn't becoming a dystopia, it is a dystopia.
Like a dystopic novel, the United States' increase in surveillance puts fear into the hearts of its people. For example, in novel 1984, the government of Oceania uses the pervasive television screen to spy on people. This is no different from the modern day security officer, overlooking the constant influx of surveillance footage and reporting anything suspicious. In fact, this is Jeremy Bentham's Panopticon personified (Foucalt "Panopticism"). However, unlike the Panopticon, the modern day surveillance system is ripe for abuse. Whereas Foucalt's panopticism describes a perfect system where everyone, including the jailer, is under surveillance, those in charge of modern day surveillance are left to their own discretion. Oversight is done through visits, not through constant viewing of actions. As such, the utopia envisioned by Foucalt where the jailers are equal to the imprisoned is never realized. Instead, the United States' continues that path toward a dystopia by giving power to some and none to others. The citizen and his or her liberties are at the mercy of the police system.
Similar to a dystopia, American citizens have in the last eight years lost several liberties, specifically, the right to a public trial by jury. Similar to 1984, where the government can detain and torture a citizen of Oceania, the United States' government can now knock on a citizen's door and detain that citizen for an indefinite amount of time, all under the guise of the citizen being a possible "terrorist." This is done, allegedly, to protect the people of the United States', fulfilling that important part of the Constitution's Preamble which charges the government with insuring "domestic tranquility" and "providing for the common defense." There is no doubt that the government must protect its citizens, but the line between the terrorist and the advocate is too blurred to allow this to be the definition that permits a violation of the constitutional right to a public trial by a jury.
Some might argue that the United States' is simply doing what is necessary to protect the country until the threat of terrorism has passed. These people would argue that the powers granted to the government are temporary, and are a necessary means to achieve a necessary end, the safety of the citizens it is charged with protecting. However, there is no indicator that the government will ever abdicate their new powers. Instead, it embraces them and does so without apology. This causes one to pause, and wonder, is power the goal of the government?
This goal of power is dystopic for several reasons. For example, in
the movie 1984, there is a scene where the main character Winston is being tortured by the character O'Brian. O'Brian tells Winston that real power is to make someone believe that two equals five. Similarly, the goal of the American government appears to be the gaining of power to make its citizens into worker bees and robots who go about their daily life, working and buying. Similar to Marx's Communist Manifesto (though this author is no supporter of communism), the United States' government seems to care less for its peoples' happiness (unless their unhappiness undermines the governments own power), but is more concerned with keeping its citizens on the train of consumerism, stopping at every shopping center and convenience store to spend their hard earned wages. This dystopic vision is the opposite of a utopia, where class systems have been abolished, but is more similar to the concept that citizens are a means of production, both the production of capital and of goods. Similar to Altusser's scheme of production and reproduction in his essay, "Ideology and Ideological State Apparatus's," the United States' requires the production and reproduction of their citizen's consumer action.
This goes hand-in-hand with the government's desire to keep peace through surveillance because, in order to assure frequent consumer spending (as opposed to theft of goods), more surveillance must be employed. More surveillance equals more power to the state. The state then uses that power to keep its citizens under control. If a citizen is abnormal in his or her behavior, the government technically has the right to detain the citizen. Hence, it can be seen here that the government and spending are united. Also, a result of this symbiotic relationship, anyone who goes against this system becomes part of a separate class of citizen, even in the eyes of other citizens. For example, just as the outer party is separate from the inner party in 1984, so also are frequent, traditional consumers and property owners separated from those who are not. One only needs to look at the disparity between the homeless and home owners to see the difference. The homeless citizen is more often the victim of discrimination by the police apparatus, whereas a clean-cut citizen in a suit is looked upon with admiration. Despite this visual disparity and the alleged class distinctions, the police apparatus can be no more assured that the suited citizen is anymore or any less a danger to the local citizenry than the homeless. The dystopic vision of America continues. Similarly, the suited citizen is often wary of the homeless citizen because of the homeless citizen's appearance, that is, the quality of his clothes are less and his rituals for cleanliness are different (but perceived as less). Besides the obvious class distinctions, there is an even deeper dystopic relation between the homeless citizen, the suited citizen, and the American government.
The United States' of America fails to make use of the homeless person's productive and reproductive potential. For example, the homeless person, at best, is given a little aid and is often ignored by the government and its well-off citizens. This leaves the homeless citizenry, a major source of production, out of the labor force. One might argue that this is because the capitalist environment does not necessitate the homeless citizen's employment and would only cause an overproduction in goods. However, this neglects the homeless citizen's ability to become a productive citizen in his or her own right; the homeless citizen, once he or she has obtained enough capital, becomes a consumer. Others might argue that the American government's small attempts at making the homeless productive are part of the dystopic problem. This group says that homelessness is a necessary part of any capitalistic system. In other words, in order to have functional capitalism, logic necessitates that there must be a bottom. Unfortunately, this definition correlates homeless with unemployed. A person can be unemployed and still have shelter; however, a person who is homeless is still by definition homeless. The fact is, the American government, due to its lack of support of the homeless, and many citizens for their lack of concern for the homeless, are fine neglecting them because of their lower economic status. Even allowing for the necessity of the homeless in a capitalist system, this only strengthens the argument that the United State's as a bearer of capitalism is a dystopic environment. Similar to Foucault's description of binaries, where there is the branding of those in society as mad or sane, dangerous or harmless, so also does modern American society brand the homeless. There is still a great disparity between classes. There are those who have property, and those who do not, those who have money, and those who do not, those who have jobs, and those who do not. Focault says that ths is a "constant division between the normal and the abnormal" (199). Some might argue that ridding the world of the homeless would lead to a more utopic environment. However, this would only bring about the perception of a healed problem. The idea of binaries would remain; it would simply be the next lower class which would be subject to derogation and neglect. Furthermore, the neglect of a human being is a sign of a dystopic environment and the elimination of a lower class through neglect only provides proof of America as a dystopia. Unfortunately, this solution only highlights America's dystopic problems with class distinctions.
Even the United States' educational system resembles a dystopia. Foucault agrees with this assertion, saying, that schools "must not simply train docile children; it must also make it possible to supervise the parents…" Here, admittedly, Foucault is referring to religious schools where it is necessary for the school to produce children with a certain amount of piety and morality. Often, American religious schools start from the ground up, beginning with clothing. Similar to dystopic novels, children in a religious school sometimes must wear a uniform. As is often the case with dystopias, these uniforms are meant to serve as a method of discipline and allegedly functions to prevent violence. As a method of discipline, even before the students arrive at the school they are already forced to enter into a certain mindset, unifying and conforming to the school's agenda. Some might say that as this is a religious school and thus not part of the American public school system, the link between educational dystopias and America is invalid. However, the American government does provide at least some support in the form of vouchers and thus has ties to the religious educational system. Second, the argument was never about specifically the American government, but about the United States' of America as a whole. Third, the public school system itself has many of the same symptoms (many public schools do use uniforms) , some even more apparent than a religious school.
Foucault's conception of discipline is prominent in public school. For example, the simple conception of the school bell prepares children for American dystopic life. After the bell, an observer would see droves of children forming up in single file lines. This is very similar to the droves of mindless drones who head off to do government work in dystopic fiction. Year after year in public school, the school bell persists. As a child, the concept of time and deadlines is almost non-existent. However, as exposure to this bell continues, from kindergarten through twelfth grade, students begin to conform their lives to rigid schedules determined by the bell. The bell is symbolic for the rules present in a dystopic society. It says, metaphorically, "You have thirty minutes to eat lunch then back to work" or "Now you may go home, but remember, the bell rings at 7:45 tomorrow." This reinforcing of rules is a discipline and a real world example of Foucault's Panopticism. Other examples abound. One could go on and on about how the pledge and patriotic songs are similar to a dystopic brainwashing.
In dystopian literature, the lower class often suffers from a lack of accurate, historical knowledge, due to revisionist history in its dystopic culture. The United States' is no different. American public schools influence a young citizen's knowledge of history. For several hours a day, a person sits in front of another, allegedly wiser and more educated individual and is expected to swallow that information whole. The concept of a class of people who have the information imposing facts on those who do not have the facts is evidence of dystopic America. For example, if the history teacher teaches revisionist history such as the nobility of Thomas Jefferson while omitting his life as a slave owner, the student, not knowing any better, believes the teacher. Similarly, in 1984, the citizens were also taught revisionist history. Some might say that America's teaching is wholly different than 1984, as America is self-correcting through free speech and the allowance and provision in schools for students to disagree. However, what is at issue isn't the allowance of disagreement, rather it is that students are often not informed enough to disagree. How many students truly know their history from multiple perspectives? Instead, America is filled with students who only know that America has a "glorious" past with that little thing called slavery tucked somewhere in the middle. This perspective of the United States' is dystopic as well.
Often in dystopic literature, the citizens of the oppressive government love the government and stand beside its principles regardless of its actions. Once again, in 1984 the people love their government and swallow the history given to them. In the movie Equilibrium, the situation is the same. The totalitarian government says that it is the rest of the world filled with hate and that the state's way is the more civilized way. Some might disagree with this assessment, saying that today's America is clearly one in which the government is under terrible scrutiny, that the people's distrust of government is proof that America is not a dystopia. On the contrary, America is a dystopia. Despite its supposed distrust for the government, the most that happens when a citizen is illegally arrested and locked up for months on end is a loud media circus which is played in the background at work. No large amounts of citizens take up picket signs, protesting at the disgusting abuse of freedom. Instead, citizens cling to the old maxim, "America is still the best nation on the planet."
Despite their apparent love and ability to customize, Americans live in a dystopic society. Similar to both the novel and the movie 1984, citizens are under almost constant surveillance and fear a departure from the norm. These fears have been realized through the arrest and detaining of several citizens outside of constitutional boundaries. Also, American citizens are broken up into two classes, the haves and the have-nots, those with property and those without. Citizens then become the means of production and reproduction of consumer activity. As a result, equality and liberty have become bywords, slogans for first the government, second, the home owners and frequent consumers, and third, those who hope to become home owners and frequent consumers.
Works Cited
1984. Dir. Michael Radford. Perfs: John Hurt, Richard Burton.Atlantic Releasing
Corporation. 1984
Altusser, Louise. "Ideology and the Ideological State Apparatuses." 1970.
Equilibrium. Dir. Kurt Wimmer. Christian Bale. Dimension Films. 2002.
Foucalt, Michael. Discipline and Punish. The Birth of the Prison. "Panopticism." 195-
228. 2nd ed. New York: New York. Vintage Books. 1995.
Marx, Karl. The Communist Manifesto. W.W. Norton & Company, Inc. 1988.
Orwell, George. 1984. New York: New York. New American Library. 1961.
The United States Constitution.
<http://www.law.cornell.edu/constitution/constitution.preamble.html>
All rights are reserved. No publishing, reproducing, altering, or distributing any portion of this without the author's permission.
This is an essay that I wrote for an English class. Constructive comments are welcome.
All rights are reserved. No publishing, reproducing, altering, or distributing any portion of this without the author's permission.
My Country, 'tis of who?
The United States of America was founded on the principles of equality and liberty. These principals have guided this country into a period in history where gender and racial prejudices have disintegrated to the point where anyone from any race or gender can become leader of this country. However, despite these advances, this country has not achieved its goal of a "more perfect union," rather it shows signs that it is becoming less perfect every day. Due to the erosion of individual liberties, an increase a dramatic increase in surveillance, and an ever –widening disparity between two classes, the United States of America is devolving from a nation of freedom into a nation of fear, threatening to tear apart the country socially and economically; The United States' of America isn't becoming a dystopia, it is a dystopia.
Like a dystopic novel, the United States' increase in surveillance puts fear into the hearts of its people. For example, in novel 1984, the government of Oceania uses the pervasive television screen to spy on people. This is no different from the modern day security officer, overlooking the constant influx of surveillance footage and reporting anything suspicious. In fact, this is Jeremy Bentham's Panopticon personified (Foucalt "Panopticism"). However, unlike the Panopticon, the modern day surveillance system is ripe for abuse. Whereas Foucalt's panopticism describes a perfect system where everyone, including the jailer, is under surveillance, those in charge of modern day surveillance are left to their own discretion. Oversight is done through visits, not through constant viewing of actions. As such, the utopia envisioned by Foucalt where the jailers are equal to the imprisoned is never realized. Instead, the United States' continues that path toward a dystopia by giving power to some and none to others. The citizen and his or her liberties are at the mercy of the police system.
Similar to a dystopia, American citizens have in the last eight years lost several liberties, specifically, the right to a public trial by jury. Similar to 1984, where the government can detain and torture a citizen of Oceania, the United States' government can now knock on a citizen's door and detain that citizen for an indefinite amount of time, all under the guise of the citizen being a possible "terrorist." This is done, allegedly, to protect the people of the United States', fulfilling that important part of the Constitution's Preamble which charges the government with insuring "domestic tranquility" and "providing for the common defense." There is no doubt that the government must protect its citizens, but the line between the terrorist and the advocate is too blurred to allow this to be the definition that permits a violation of the constitutional right to a public trial by a jury.
Some might argue that the United States' is simply doing what is necessary to protect the country until the threat of terrorism has passed. These people would argue that the powers granted to the government are temporary, and are a necessary means to achieve a necessary end, the safety of the citizens it is charged with protecting. However, there is no indicator that the government will ever abdicate their new powers. Instead, it embraces them and does so without apology. This causes one to pause, and wonder, is power the goal of the government?
This goal of power is dystopic for several reasons. For example, in
the movie 1984, there is a scene where the main character Winston is being tortured by the character O'Brian. O'Brian tells Winston that real power is to make someone believe that two equals five. Similarly, the goal of the American government appears to be the gaining of power to make its citizens into worker bees and robots who go about their daily life, working and buying. Similar to Marx's Communist Manifesto (though this author is no supporter of communism), the United States' government seems to care less for its peoples' happiness (unless their unhappiness undermines the governments own power), but is more concerned with keeping its citizens on the train of consumerism, stopping at every shopping center and convenience store to spend their hard earned wages. This dystopic vision is the opposite of a utopia, where class systems have been abolished, but is more similar to the concept that citizens are a means of production, both the production of capital and of goods. Similar to Altusser's scheme of production and reproduction in his essay, "Ideology and Ideological State Apparatus's," the United States' requires the production and reproduction of their citizen's consumer action.
This goes hand-in-hand with the government's desire to keep peace through surveillance because, in order to assure frequent consumer spending (as opposed to theft of goods), more surveillance must be employed. More surveillance equals more power to the state. The state then uses that power to keep its citizens under control. If a citizen is abnormal in his or her behavior, the government technically has the right to detain the citizen. Hence, it can be seen here that the government and spending are united. Also, a result of this symbiotic relationship, anyone who goes against this system becomes part of a separate class of citizen, even in the eyes of other citizens. For example, just as the outer party is separate from the inner party in 1984, so also are frequent, traditional consumers and property owners separated from those who are not. One only needs to look at the disparity between the homeless and home owners to see the difference. The homeless citizen is more often the victim of discrimination by the police apparatus, whereas a clean-cut citizen in a suit is looked upon with admiration. Despite this visual disparity and the alleged class distinctions, the police apparatus can be no more assured that the suited citizen is anymore or any less a danger to the local citizenry than the homeless. The dystopic vision of America continues. Similarly, the suited citizen is often wary of the homeless citizen because of the homeless citizen's appearance, that is, the quality of his clothes are less and his rituals for cleanliness are different (but perceived as less). Besides the obvious class distinctions, there is an even deeper dystopic relation between the homeless citizen, the suited citizen, and the American government.
The United States' of America fails to make use of the homeless person's productive and reproductive potential. For example, the homeless person, at best, is given a little aid and is often ignored by the government and its well-off citizens. This leaves the homeless citizenry, a major source of production, out of the labor force. One might argue that this is because the capitalist environment does not necessitate the homeless citizen's employment and would only cause an overproduction in goods. However, this neglects the homeless citizen's ability to become a productive citizen in his or her own right; the homeless citizen, once he or she has obtained enough capital, becomes a consumer. Unfortunately, this solution only highlights America's dystopic problems with class distinctions.
Despite their apparent love and ability to customize, Americans live in a dystopic society. Similar to both the novel and the movie 1984, citizens are under almost constant surveillance and fear a departure from the norm. These fears have been realized through the arrest and detaining of several citizen outside of constitutional boundaries. Also, American citizens are broken up into two classes, the haves and the have-nots, those with property and those without. Citizens then become the means of production and reproduction of consumer activity. As a result, equality and liberty have become bywords, slogans for first the government, second, the home owners and frequent consumers, and third, those who hope to become home owners and frequent consumers.
Works Cited
1984. Dir. Michael Radford. Perfs: John Hurt, Richard Burton.Atlantic Releasing
Corporation. 1984
Altusser, Louise. "Ideology and the Ideological State Apparatuses." 1970.
Foucalt, Michael. Discipline and Punish. The Birth of the Prison. "Panopticism." 195-
228. 2nd ed. New York: New York. Vintage Books. 1995.
Marx, Karl. The Communist Manifesto. W.W. Norton & Company, Inc. 1988.
Orwell, George. 1984. New York: New York. New American Library. 1961.
The United States Constitution.
http://www.law.cornell.edu/constitution/constitution.preamble.html
All rights are reserved. No publishing, reproducing, altering, or distributing any portion of this without the author's permission.
Pickin' up the beat.
Fast, swift, all of a sudden,
Think, much'n not sleeping much and
In a good way, stopped, but moving,
Doing
Hollar'in and Hoo'in,
New plans are screwin', that is workin'n holdin',
In a good way
Hopefully to stay.
Slowin' down the beat.
Slow down the beat.
Or Pick it up
It doesn't matter
With all that wonderful laughter
And the other line and a heart a pitter-patter.
It's all more than alright. More than alright.
And in sight. The Light and the light.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
This is a short story that I wrote for an English class. It is still in the draft phase. Constructive comments are welcome.
All rights are reserved. No publishing, reproducing, altering, or distributing any portion of this without the author's permission.
Dancing with Ghosts
His name was George Green and his daughter was a ghost, or so she kept telling him. "Daddy! Look at me! I'm flying!" said Katrina.
She was dressed in a white, semi-transparent robe and wore her white leotard underneath. The robe was her mother's.
Cute, 8-year-olds are so cute, thought George.
"Yes honey. I see that. And a beautiful ghost you are!" said George.
It was a year ago today, and Katrina's lively personality spoke volumes of the half that was her mom. Things were never the same since her mother Tina, his wife, died. He was just now coming to grips with that night. After all, it was all his fault. It was going to just be him at the play.
That night, they had all gone to see Faustus at the Geoffrey Theater. Tina argued that at 7, Katrina was too young to see such a gruesome tale. A man being torn apart by devils was too much for a child.
"She probably won't even understand it," Tina said.
George argued back.
"It is important for our daughter to be cultured. I want her to get a real education. The garbage that public schools are spewing out these hardly even counts as teaching," said George.
"Well, not everyone can go to a private, preppy school like you did George," said Tina.
"That is exactly my point Tina. Faustus is a classic, a wonderful play that will teach our young Katrina what good entertainment is all about, not like this anime crap," said George.
"Fine George. She'll probably be scared out of her wits and won't go to bed for days, but if this is what you want then she can go, but I'm coming too."
They got in the car and went to the play. It was a beautiful production. Perfect lighting. Wonderful acting. The final act of the evening was a tragedy.
While on their way home, some Coca-Cola truck driver dropped a cassette tape onto the passenger floor. One grab, one swerve, wrong lane, one life gone.
Oh how he missed Tina!
"Daddy! Were you even watching me?!"
George snapped back from his thoughts. Katrina stood in front of him, her brown eyes cross squinted in anger.
"Wha-, Wha' was that honey? Do it again. Sorry, daddy was distracted."
"I was trying to show you how I was dancing with mommy. See?" She smiled and her feet moved.
He looked at her. She held her left hand high. Her feet moved forward, then backward. One, two,three. One,two,three. One,two,three. The white robe flew through the air and Katrina was a blur. It looked so natural. He wondered how his daughter had dealt with Tina's death so remarkably.
The first few weeks were difficult. Lots of crying. A body in the grave and no one but dad was home. Just dad. Then, one morning, Katrina was all smiles. She told him how she had a dream the night before that mommy was in heaven, but sometimes God allowed her to visit Katrina.
Dreams, kids live on dreams, he thought at the time. Now he knew it. Katrina was alive but he was still dead. Katrina was dancing and he was standing still.
His daughter looked over at him, all smiles and twirls, and then came to a sudden halt.
"Daddy. Why are you crying?"
George quickly rubbed his wet eyes with his right hand, but the tears wouldn't stop flowing. George sank to his feet for the thousandth time in a year. He promised himself he would never let Katrina see him like this, but he couldn't take it anymore. Sometimes, the right combination of scenes and sights opens up the heart. He could only cry.
The smile on Katrina's face disappeared. She ran over to her father, her barefoot feet pitter-pattering on the wood floor. She put her arms around him.
"Daddy, are you crying because of mommy?"
Mommy. More tears.
"But daddy, mommy is right here!" said Katrina, pointing to the empty space on her right.
Katrina and her wild imagination. Reality check! But her couldn't tell her that. She was too happy.
"Daddy. Come on. Just try to dance with her and you'll see. Mommy isn't dead!"
He almost blew up at her, at this beautiful 8-year-old daughter of his, but her brown eyes stopped him. They looked just like hers. He decided to take his daughter's advice.
He wiped the final tears from his eyes and stood up. He looked down at his daughter. She was smiling again. He held his left arm high, then did his best to bring his right arm in a curve behind the imaginary character.
"No daddy, you're doing it wrong. Bring the right hand a little higher. Didn't they teach you anything at your school?" said Katrina.
He did as she said, then Katrina began to clap the beat. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.
George tired of this exercise, but Katrina was enjoying it.
"Lose yourself in the music daddy. Look into mom's eyes."
He imagined those eyes, right in front of him, her pink-lipped smile curved with joy. And there she was. He was dancing with his Tina.
He heard laughter and looked over his shoulder at his daughter.
"Daddy, you're smiling!"
All rights are reserved. No publishing, reproducing, altering, or distributing any portion of this without the author's permission.
This is a short story that I wrote for an English class. It is still in the draft phase (isn't everything?). Constructive comments are welcome.
All rights are reserved. No publishing, reproducing, altering, or distributing any portion of this without the author's permission.
He wanted to go to sleep. Pushing 7 A.M. he had just finished a long night already and now some other bozo-on-the-run was going to keep him up. Not that he wasn't glad perform his duty. He loved performing his duty.
Black monitors filled every inch of the white wall space in the room. Each monitor showed a live, first person feed from each Op Sec team member. They were in their usual attire: black pants, navy-blue trench coat. Both hid body armor underneath. An armored helmet hid their faces. He envied them, but they weren't his job; the center monitor was. Satellite Imaging.
"Move in with Satcom 4, David. Nice and easy.," said Thomas, the operations leader. He was big, burly, black man with a bald head. What he lacked in hair he more than made up with in brains; the guy was a genius. In this room it was just Thomas and David.
The perfect pair of Governmentals, thought David.
Outside, it was dry and sunny, the perfect day to go looking for free-speech pond scum. David pressed a few buttons on the computer, and the tiny black dot on the center monitor grew into a human face. The disease up-close-and personal, just like he liked it.
Live from Capital City, thought David. You're on Candid Camera. I see you Bozo.
David watched the man on the monitor. I see youThey always looked like that, didn't they? All the makings of their kind. Bold, feeling entitled. Any moment now, he would be surrounded by a dozen navy-blue, coat wearing, badge brandishing officers from Op Sec. Then, bang. He had it coming.
As a child, David had learned two important things: there were two kinds of people, the good guys and the bad guys. This guy was definitely a bad guy. He saw the news reports.
"Five minutes until intercept boys and girls, just hold tight. Gotta bring 'im nice and quiet. We don't want this one to go kablooey," said Thomas.
David smiled. He knew that with Thomas in charge, there was no way of this op going bad. The smell of strawberry Pop Tarts brought back a memory of the previous ops leader. He was a softy who allowed the enemy to get away. Even when he caught them, he still only arrested them. Arrest? Who does that anymore? The man was a rusty cog. About this time last year the Navy-Coats got him too.. David was glad when they removed that old gear and brought in Thomas. Thomas was a man who would do the right thing.
The Constitution was clear, swift justice was important, thought David. A speedy trial by a jury of your peers, right out there on the street where they catch 'em.
"Alright David, I want you to start the recording now. They're going to need this for the news tonight. A nice little clip to let the people know that we're serving them," said Thomas.
David's thin fingers tapped the buttons marked RECORD and ENTER. A red light flashed on.
He suspected that tonight's broadcast was going to draw a record number of viewers. This was their leader after all. He couldn't wait to get home and watch it himself. David was still smiling. Thanks God he was a part of it all.
God, a funny expression, best to be careful with that thought.
As for God, David thought the idea of him was repulsive. So many senseless deaths in the name of God. Bombings. Murders. Good thing the government stepped in and put a stop to that business. He loved the government.
Five years from now, I'll probably be running the show, thought David. Why not? I've been faithful.
"Two minutes to intercept. Check your gear. Remember, make it clean and fast. No ugly scene." said Thomas into his headset.
The headset wrapped around Thomas's head like a crown, thought David. Someday, I will wear that crown.
On the monitors, David watched the Op Sec team members pull clips out of their guns before shoving them back in.
Something didn't look right about the ammunition, thought David.
David looked at his center monitor. Yup, the Bozo was still clueless. He was about to meet up with a plain clothes officer, someone who had been undercover in the Liberty underground for three years. This was David's favorite part, the part where the bad guy got nailed. A bullet in the head. Yum. David licked his lips. He loved his job. Sleep? What was he thinking?
The man on the center monitor shook hands with the officer.
Here it comes, thought David.
"One minute to intercept. Move the vans," said Thomas.
It was like a wonderful opera. Each member had a part to play in the capture of this Liberty leader. Oboes and clarinets, trumpets and trombones. Drivers and gunners, David and Thomas.
David watched the monitors as several vans, some black, some white, moved in from directions opposite the man on the center monitor.
One word.
"Go," said Thomas.
A flurry of activity. The man was on the ground, hands tied to his legs.
He looked like a helpless baby, thought David.
Several of the officers removed their helmets and read the man his rights. Then, ten of the officers moved to the man's left. One stood directly in front of the man. The final at the rear.
It was a trial. This was how they did things. It was so much more efficient than the old days. No more clogged prisons taking taxpayer money, no more corruption in the justice system. 10 officers were the jury, 1 the judge, one the baliff and executioner. No more scummy lawyers. The accused was left to their own defense. This wouldn't take long.
David watched the center monitor. The man was shouting something about rights and life or some nonsense. The judge looked at the jury. Zero. Not guilty. Ten hands went up. Guilty.
The executioner brought up a pistol in front of the man's head.
"Cut the feed now," said Thomas, but David was too mesmerized by the sight. He loved this part.
"David, I said cut the feed now."
Thomas walked over and depressed the RECORD button, but never made it to the ESCAPE key. The center monitor showed it all.
David kept waiting for the gun to fire, but it never fired. Instead, the Op Sec team member holstered his sidearm, untied the man, and helped him to his feet.
For the first time, David spoke to Thomas.
"Thomas, what just happened? Why wasn't that man executed. He was supposed to be executed," said David.
Thomas looked at David. David's eyes were wide, like a confused child.
"The man is being set free because he stands for something much more than you or I. He stands for what this country used to be before it lost its way."
"Lost its way? But, Thomas, the country is wonderful!" said David.
"It was, and it will be again someday. I'm sorry you had to see that," said Thomas.
David looked back at the monitor. The man was gone. The Op Sec team was gone. David glanced at the other monitors. White snow. Their cameras had been disconnected. When had that happened?
David looked back at Thomas holding a black gun. Bang.
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The following is an ethnography and analysis of a local Starbucks. It was done in response to a homework assignment. The location of the Starbucks was omitted for my own reasons.
We Are Watching You, Signed Starbucks
The following observations were made at the Starbucks on [redacted] and
[redacted]. With regard to the clerks: their uniforms were nearly identical in color and
style. Each clerk wore a black hat with a Starbucks logo, a black, collared shirt, and a
green apron. Females usually wore their hair in pony-tales while the males had short,
shaved hair. Above and behind the cash registers were black security globes which have
hide in themselves security cameras. The cash registers themselves record each
transaction. Customers line up single file in front of the register to purchase their choice
item of consumption then proceed to an area to pick up various condiments. The clerks
appear to make several errors in making the drinks, making the drink "on the house."
They charge the customer and make the drinks in a robotic fashion, delivering standard
lines to customers such as, "Hi, what can we get you today?"
In Starbucks, the clerks represent the lower (but not lowest) class in a
dystopian society. First, they are under constant observation by the black security globes
(not just for the customers, one can assume that the globes also watch the clerks to
make sure that nothing is stolen). Second, as previously stated, each transaction is
recorded on the register, making sure that it balances out at the end of the day. These
two surveillance measures are similar to the Bentham's Panopticon, that because they
are under constant surveillance, the clerks will (presumably) both perform within
expectations (maybe even exceed them to gain a reward) and act honestly (for fear of
the possibility of being caught in an illicit or illegal act). Foucault would love this as it is a
fulfillment of his writing, that the Panopticon has expanded its aims beyond the
punishment of prisons into daily life. Third, the clerks conform in their appearance both in
the clothing and the hairstyles that they wear. This trait is common in dystopic novels,
certainly 1984, where the outer-party members must wear blue jump suits. Fourth, they
perform their tasks with robotic (though imperfect) efficiency: Take the order, blend the
drink, and call out the name of the customer. The same is with the labor section in
dystopic literature where efficiency for the party/government (in this case the Starbucks
corporation) is key. Lastly, they make the drinks for the customers and give the drink
away for free if an error is made. The customers that come into Starbucks represent the
typical dystopic superior (the Inner party in 1984, the gorillas in Planet of the Apes, and
the high government officials in movies like Equilibrium). They get to wear different
clothing, act in an independent manner, and are served by the lower, inferior class (the
Starbucks' employees).
