Organizations and individuals that support spy cameras in public spaces ought to consider the following issues:

Do you realize the abuse of these spy cameras that is inevitable?

With the perpetual monitoring of all activities in public places (starting in the Historic Core, and moving to other parts of LA), these cameras will transfer a form of control to the security corporations and government agencies that will record and compile all this "data," information that you will never know is being collected.

People will be forced into the vague resignation that, "Well, you're being videotaped everywhere you go." This is the resignation that you are being controlled.

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Do you realize that employing cameras as the means to maintain security is the final step in the technology now control-ling the human? No longer will technology be a tool making the human mind and hands even more powerful and adaptable, but an instrument now used to control the actions of once-free individuals.

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Will you really feel safer in the long-term with this concentration of power in the security companies and in the electronic eyes that never blink, never tire, never get bored of watching and recording everyone's actions?

IF YOU OPPOSE BEING SPIED ON YOU WHILE YOU ARE SHOPPING ON BROADWAY ...

PLEASE CALL (310) 281-7603 TO SIGN A PETITION AGAINST THESE CAMERAS.

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On the Underground

While illicitly drinking a lemonade in the urban cavern of the Wilshire/Vermont Metro U-Bahn station, I imagined how one day, weeks later, I would return home only to see a fine in the mail containing a photo identifying me and my guilty 20 oz. accomplice.

You see, a very astute camera'd ID'ed me and my citrus thirst quencher and had calculated a $27 fine (quite fair for the offense). Mailed to me along with the bill was a conveniently sized envelope in which my check made out to "City of Los Angeles" fit quite snugly I would say.

I imagined what I always do: America 2003.
But I was only imagining because it wasn't so.

As I took a great gulp, I saw three figures in black approach, one disheveled and two in crew cuts; one with baggy pants, two with weighty belts.

And one of the shorn men in black, not even looking at me, but bearing seriously straight ahead, goes, "No eating or drinking allowed!"

The three figures then continued onto the waiting elevator and elevated away. I quickly capped and stowed my drink. Although getting busted by a cop is a little embarrassing, at least there was no $27 bill to go with that stern warning.

From Wilshire Gazette (January 2003)

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