Riinngg...
Answer the phone, mom.
Riinngg...
C'mon, mom... I know it says "British Columbia calling."
Riinngg...
I know British Columbia is in a foreign country.
Riinngg...
Yes, the NSA will be logging this call to you in case it turns out I'm a terrorist.
"Hello, nobody is available to answer your call at this time. Please..."
Dammit!
Riinngg...
I know you're there, mom. Answer the phone.
Riinngg...
ANSWER THE PHONE. NOBODY'S LISTENING IN!
Riinngg...
Mom, it's an emergency. I'm dying. Help me... help me.
"Hello, nobody is..."
Ai Caramba!!!
Doesn't she listen to the news or read the paper any more? Didn't she hear The Obama say, "Nobody is listening to your telephone calls." Of course, that doesn't mean they aren't logging the call, the number called from — OMG, that's my number! — the time and date and duration of the call.
Wait a minute. How will they know she didn't answer? How will they know I only got her machine? What if they think these 20 second calls were some kind of code to trigger the sleeper cell she's organized at her Retirement Living Community, the Raging Grannies and their Snoozing Gramps? Oh dear lord, what if some act of terrorism takes place shortly after my calls? Somewhere nearby? She'll probably wind up in some black hole interrogation camp the NSA is running in the desert instead of playing bridge with her cronies and plotting the overthrow of whomever's in charge of preparing that revolting flan they have for desert in the dining room once a week.
"Vat es the name of your operative in... Canada."
"I never had an operation in Canada."
"Ve know der are calls to your number at least once a week for... let's zee... since ve started keeping data. Vat es his name."
And since they know the number I called from, even though it isn't listed as Smilin' Dog Manor in the local phone book, they'll know it's me and I'll likely be taken into the, "We just have a few questions for you," room the next time I try to cross the border into the U.S.
Funny thing. I was taken into that room once at YVR and treated like a suspect. At least until they found my expired U.S. passport tucked behind my current Canadian passport in my briefcase. At that point, everything changed.
"You're American?"
"Only by birth," said somewhat defensively.
"How come you didn't say so? Why are you trying to palm yourself off as a... Canadian?" Said with distain.
"My U.S. passport is expired. I haven't gotten around to renewing it since my Canadian one is current."
"You'd rather be thought of as... Canadian?"
"Well, certainly while I'm in Canada. Although I'm not sure I'm fooling anyone there."
"You remember the secret handshake?"
"Of course."
"Welcome home. Sorry for the inconvenience."
I'm not making that up; it's really like that, you know. In all the snit that's hit the fan since Edward Snowdon spilled the beans on the NSA's data collection, all the people who know about it have been very quick to make two points: The program doesn't collect data on U.S. citizens — unless they happen to be called or emailed from someone outside the country — and it is completely legal, having been authorized by the federal court of kangaroos, every single congressperson, the president, attorney general and all branches of the national security apparatus, including the departments that don't really exist.
Which seems odd. With The Obama effusing about how anxious he is to engage in an open, public debate on the program — now that it's out in the public — and various U.S. congresspeople suddenly becoming equally eager to have a public discussion about data collection, and all of them saying how this wasn't a secret operation but had been openly discussed in both houses of congress and was or should have been well known, if all that's true, why do they simultaneously brand Ed Snowdon a traitor and say he's put lives at risk by divulging what either was or wasn't a well-known program?
Newspeak? Don't ask, because nobody's going to tell.
While it's possible, on this side of the border, to make light of Big Brother's baby steps along the path that inevitably leads to Minitrue, let us not forget it is our phone calls that are being filed for posterity.
Naturally, as Canadians, we tend not to get worked up by such governmental intrusions. We, OK, I expect the government is collecting data on my calls, Internet usage, purchase patterns and television consumption. I'm sure there's a clerk somewhere who has my name filed in the subversive "Not a Hockey Fan" file.
But as Canadians, we don't care. It's not that we embrace our government's intrusion into our private lives. It's just that we know CSIS is so completely inept we're probably safer having them collect the data if it keeps them from actually suspecting us of anything other than total indifference to the Stanley Cup playoffs — are they over yet? The chances of CSIS and the RCMP successfully cooperating on any action, either pros or pers, is about as likely as seeing them ever solve the Air India bombing.
In the U.S., I'd be a bit more worried. Every since September 11, 2001, the cancerous growth of the security and surveillance apparatus has dwarfed the rise of global corporatism and the military industrial complex combined. That alone would be alarming, even assuming everyone is telling the truth about how the data collected is being used. But it's not that alarming.
What is alarming is the response, or lack thereof, of the Americans themselves. Since this story broke, a majority of Americans have indicated they simply don't care if their government is spying on them. In the liberty/security tradeoff it's bye-bye liberty. As long as it keeps the boogie-terrorists at bay, they're down with it.
Except for the ones that aren't. And they didn't trust their government anyway, preferring to put their faith in militias, camo gear and free market fairies.
There are only two things we can be safe assuming at this point: First, Ed Snowdon is dead man walking. Second, no matter how benign the intentions, no matter how innocuous the data, no matter how strident the assertions of "proper safeguards" being in place, some day, someone in power will use the data in a way that'll make even the most security-conscious citizen say, "Oh my God; how did this happen."
A sword hung on the wall in Act I will be used by Act III. I think it was Chekhov who said that. Or maybe Sulu.
In the meantime, would you just answer your damn phone, mom?
