Over the past few months I’ve begun to notice something
peculiar. My mom always seems to know
how I spend my days. Two to three times
a week I’d return from an outing and she’d say “oh, hello there Diggy, how was
your drive?” At first I didn’t think much of it, but then as time wore on I thought
to myself, how does she know I went on a drive? How does she know which park I
went to do read my various scholarly journals? How does she know that I had
attended a conference in Washington, DC? Rapidly my curiosity turned to alarm,
after all – I’m no fool, surveillance is everywhere these days. The notion of
privacy has dissipated and the evolution of 'smart' technology has all but robbed me of my liberty.
By this point I had nearly worked myself into a full-blown panic. Sure I had installed topnotch security on my multiple laptops, sure I had anti-theft and intrusion devices, but was that enough to protect my proprietary information? I anxiously paced from the spacious, luxurious, living room into the regal office. Just when I thought I couldn’t work myself up any further, I noticed something on my mom’s computer that pushed me over the edge and into full-on hysteria.
By this point I had nearly worked myself into a full-blown panic. Sure I had installed topnotch security on my multiple laptops, sure I had anti-theft and intrusion devices, but was that enough to protect my proprietary information? I anxiously paced from the spacious, luxurious, living room into the regal office. Just when I thought I couldn’t work myself up any further, I noticed something on my mom’s computer that pushed me over the edge and into full-on hysteria.