Big Brother Bacon and Eggs

BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU

My mates pointed out the closed circuit surveillance cameras to me on our way to and from football games in London. We gave the people monitoring the cameras the finger and other crude gestures teenage boys are so handy with. Being from the one of the remotest backward backwoods towns in Canada, one that had only just begun receiving Cablevision signals from war torn America, the cameras were one of the features of life that defined England for me. The country was the most voyeuristic place on our smoky planet. It still is. You would think that would be enough to keep the creepily violent voyeuristic Muslims, who could all use a few good drinks, happy.

We still have few government monitored cameras in this country compared to many nations. And if you want to get away from prying eyes it is easy to do so.

Privately held cameras abound however. Their accumulation exceeds Orwell's expectations of the State's enthusiasm for Peeping Tomism.

Ma has a couple cameras in her restaurant. "I have to Beer. There's too many junkies who want to rob me." One camera is trained on the till, another on the front door. Ma probably has one watching her backdoor too.

Yesterday morning Ma told me she got robbed, "By some junky motherfucker," on Thursday morning. "When the police look at the video they see you finger the camera when you come get bacon and egg. Why you do that? Police ask me who that? I tell them Beer. Come here almost every day. They tell me keep an eye on you. Maybe you have bad attitude to Authourity."

She laughed as she finished her story. We both hate fucking Authourity.