Category: Fourre-tout

A little bit of everything

Shades of 1984

I have never been to the Middle East or any Muslim country, I don’t participate in protest movements, I have never occupied any building and I pay my fair share of taxes.
I daresay that I am close to being a model citizen.

But I know that I am closely watched.

I don’t want you to think that I am paranoid, but I am aware (and so should you) that Big Brother is watching and keeping track of everything  I am doing.

When you are gabbing on your Smartphone, Big Brother is recording. When you are watching a show on your Smart TV, Big Brother is taking notes. When you do a search on your computer, Big Brother will keep what you are looking for on its servers.

Big-Brother-NSA-SnoopingUnbeknownst to a lot of people, many companies are surreptitiously collecting data and might sell it to a third party.
Why do you think that (after searching the web for a new camera) you are suddenly seeing cameras ads all over your screen?

Any Internet-capable device that you so gleefully welcomed into your walls is a potential Trojan Horse. It can open the gates of your fortress and let the enemy in at any moment.

The Smartphone that you sleep with (don’t deny it) is a modern day Mata Hari. If solicited, it will spill your secrets faster than you can say, “Praise the Lord”.

Wi-Fi is a beautiful thing but it is a fickle friend.
It will readily share your secrets with anybody speaking its language.

If you control your home (garage door, lights, thermostat, security cameras) through your smartphone, all the commands send from a distance can fairly easily be highjacked and used against you.

The only way to prevent prying eyes (and ears) from spying on you is to take refuge in a cave and forswear any Internet-capable device.
Easily said than done!

When you are hooked on electronic devices (aren’t we all) it is very difficult to give them up.
Becoming a hermit is an alternative, but not palatable to everybody (especially young adults).

So, you have been warned.

Anytime you are using an electronic contraption, somebody can snoop on you.
Think twice before “sexting” or looking for bomb-making instructions on the Internet.
Big Brother is watching!

Alain

Facebook revisited

I originally joined Facebook to see what the fuss was all about.
Three months later I am ready to dump that sect (that’s what it is, isn’t it?) and ditch all my “instant friends”.

I really don’t see what Facebook is good for. And why do they want to know everything about me? I insist on the Fifth Amendment.

It seems to me that Facebook is nothing more than a pervasive Bragging Forum.
Who cares if you trekked to Afghanistan or Tanzania?
Who cares if you crossed the Channel on a paddleboat?
Who cares if you are a devoted Muslim, an orthodox Jew, or a confirmed Socialist?
Keep it to yourself. I don’t want to know!

speakerI don’t want to hear about your political or religious views. I don’t want to know whose birthday it is. I don’t want to look at selfies or baby photographs.

If somebody cares enough about ME, he/she will take the time to send the pertinent stuff directly to me and not post it on the Internet!

Personally, I’d rather have 3 close friends than100 ersatz chums.
And I don’t want to share my most intimate thoughts or moments with the rest of the world.

The French have a time-honored saying that goes:

“Pour vivre heureux, vivons cachés.”
To live happily, live discreetly.

When living discreetly, you won’t generate envy and jealousy.
All the stupid wars taking place in the world everywhere are not about ideology. They are about jealousy and resentment.

The rabble-rousers want power and money, and the quickest way to achieve this is through the barrel of a gun.
Anything achieved through violence will lead to tyranny. And tyranny will lead in turn to another revolution.
It is a vicious and never-ending cycle.

Again, if you want to live happily, live discreetly and keep what’s personal, private.

If I won at the lottery, do you think I would share this bit of news with my 10 000 friends?
I wouldn’t even tell my wife!

That’s why I am forsaking Facebook. I don’t want to share anything!

I am not signing divorce papers right away, but I will keep my distance from that Scientology-like organization.
And I don’t care if they shun me. I have enough true friends (3 ½) and a pet spider to keep me happy.

If you truly want to be my friend, start by being kind to animals, and then we will talk.

Former Facebook Party member.

Alain

“One loyal friend is worth ten thousand relatives.” Euripides

PS: My wife is asking for a divorce.

 

The taming of the mew*

A few days ago, while reading my weekly edition of The Economist, I came across a delicious sounding word: “bratophobia”.
I stopped like a pointer dog and wagged my tail to express my delight.

Bratophobia is of course the clever juxtaposition of “brat” (a badly behaved child) and “phobia” (a fear or aversion to something).
The word cannot be found (yet) in a dictionary but it should, and I hope that it soon will.

I wholly empathize with this expression because I am a confirmed “bratophobe”.
This does not mean that I hate kids; au contraire mon frère!
I simply dislike ill-behaved children. My worse nightmare is being stuck anywhere in the immediate vicinity of an out-of-control mini-hooligan.

I don’t blame the little whippersnappers directly. They are the product of their environment.
Indifferent, overindulgent parents are responsible for producing such hellions.

I firmly believe that the brats of today are the bullies of tomorrow.
They are like pit bull pups. If not carefully monitored and controlled, they can become aggressively unpleasant, even dangerous.

Children above all need socialization, a process by which they learn how to behave responsibly in a polite society. And this process is the parents’ responsibility.
Without boundaries the kids are very likely to end up on the wrong side of the law.

Bratophobia is spreading, and some institutions are scrambling to cash in.
Restaurants, pubs, and various businesses are jumping on the bandwagon and establishing small oases of peace known as BFZ’s (brat-free zones) where weary customers can take refuge from the rowdy hordes.

According to the Economist, Malaysian Airlines is already banning kids from their first class sections.
They are only allowed in economy class… the only section that I can afford.

Drat! Crap! Brats!

Alain

*the high-pitched crying noise made by a cat or bird