Jon Rappoport
Al used to be a funny guy. Now, he’s not.
Make no mistake about it, if Bush were president at the moment, Little Al would be attacking him mercilessly.
But with Obama in the White House, Al sings a different tune.
The NSA spying is A-OK. No problem.
“I can assure you, this is not about spying on the American people.”
Thanks, Al.
“There are certain things that are appropriate for me to know that are not appropriate for the bad guys to know.”
Al, you see, has been briefed. He’s bought into those “high-level” briefings. He now resides in a rarefied elite atmosphere. If Senator Al says NSA is good, it must be.
If you believe him, I’ve got condos for sale on Jupiter.
Al even thinks it’s appropriate for the Justice Dept. to investigate Ed Snowden, the NSA leaker. Well sure, Al’s Mr. Establishment these days, and Snowden defected.
Al used to have a bullshit detector. Now, bullshit is detecting him as an easy mark.
Who in his right mind would believe a bunch of CIA and NSA guys sitting in a room explaining and justifying their own spying programs?
Is there any chance these cold-fish bureaucrats would do a mea culpa? They’re looking for more budget dollars. They’re looking to avoid any possible criticisms of their plots and operations. They’re professionals paid to lie.
So they’re going to paint the war on terror in the most dire terms possible. They’re going to tell stories and make it up. They’re going to give gullible and grasping senators the impression they’re privy to real insider material.
They’re going to say, “Now you’re in the Club. You know secrets. You know the truth the public must be protected from, because the public would be frightened. But you guys, you senators, you can handle the truth…”
Al’s sitting there in the room, and he poised half-way between buying what the intell boys are selling and knowing he wants to protect his president and his party.
It’s a sucker’s game. Al has gone for it. Willingly.
On SNL, Al, as Stuart Smalley, the pathetic rainbow self-help psycho, used to look in the mirror and say, “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.”
Well, now Al IS Stuart Smalley, but with a new tough-guy exterior. He’s a little man of steel, protecting the nation from the bad guys. He’s on the inside, with the big boys. And they like him.
So, Stuart, I’ve written a thing for you about surveillance of citizens that falls in line with your New Age sentiments. I hope it helps you in the days ahead:
It’s wonderful to be spied on: I feel like a real citizen.
I tell you, this is great. Why be anonymous when you can attract the attention of the government? It’s a dream come true. They care. They really do.
Everyone deserves to be noticed.
If I start to do something that isn’t normal, I can stop and say to myself: “Would the government, watching me, approve of this?” And then an answer will come.
“No, don’t do that.”
We’re all movie stars now because we’re being watched. Don’t blow your nose and then look at the Kleenex in a restaurant.
We’re comedians, too, all of us, because government employees are watching us and laughing. We’re entertaining them. We’re funny. We’re a hit.
We’re all happy. That’s the main thing. The right people are watching us, and we can feel safe. That’s why we have the Department of Homeland Security. They do whatever it takes. If it snows an inch in North Dakota in July, they’ll send agents to the scene, to find out what’s going on. They’ll make sure the snow plows are working.
The new test for a good citizen is: he accepts being spied on.
There should be a special app you can tap to confess your sins and misdeeds. What you say goes right into a government file. I think a lot of people would like that.
Broadcast it on television, too. People will line up to have their chance. We’ve got C-Span. But we need C-NSA. Go before the cameras and spill your guts. It’s good for the soul.
“Last night, I was on the phone with my cousin, and I said I was sick and tired of my ex-wife badgering me about our divorce settlement. That was wrong. I shouldn’t have demeaned my ex to my cousin. I want to go on the record and apologize to my family, friends, and co-workers. I will seek counseling. I want a better world.”
“I bought a toy gun for my son last year. How foolish of me! What was I thinking? Toy guns are a gateway drug. Last night, I took the family out into the back yard and we burned the gun in a garbage can. I feel a lot better now. Thank you, C-NSA. I fervently hope my son’s brain isn’t permanently warped. Time will tell. In the meantime, we’ve enrolled him in a three-year training seminar: Reprogramming the Young Mind, Post-Trauma.”
But you know, as much as we try to correct our mistakes, we aren’t perfect. And that’s where the government comes in. My only concern is there isn’t enough surveillance.
That’s why I’ve built a frame for a small video camera. The camera is mounted in the frame, which I wear around my neck and shoulders. Wherever I go, whatever I do or say, the camera is looking at me and recording.
Every day, I email the video file to NSA. I hope others will adopt this practice. If government is helping us, we should help it. We’re all in this together.
There isn’t any “us versus them.” That’s an illusion fostered by those who wish to divide us. United we stand in the New Age.
Surveillance is an initiation. Some people can’t make the grade. They go negative. They feel compelled to criticize the government. Courage, as Hemingway wrote, is grace under pressure. This is how heroes are forged.
We can all be heroes by assisting the government. It wants us to do well. It wants us to succeed. It likes us.
I don’t hear any poor people objecting to being spied on. They’re too busy trying to eke out a living. Why should we, who can afford the time to consider this issue, separate ourselves from the poor? In a drug store, on a bus, in a car, walking down the street, in an office, in our homes, let’s celebrate the safety that comes with knowing we are watched.
Try smiling for no reason at all. Let employees of the NSA know you’re happy to have them there with you. Occasionally, flash them the peace sign. You might even try talking to them.
Ask them if they’re having a good time. Say, “I hope you’re doing well. It’s a wonderful day in the neighborhood.” Or, “How’s the family? Would you like a hot meal? If you let me know where you are, I might know someone who lives nearby. They can bring it to you. Do you like pot roast?”
I’m having shirts monogrammed with the NSA seal below the pocket.
I do have one suggestion, vague as it must be, since I don’t posses knowledge about the various forms surveillance takes:
Feedback. I believe earnest citizens would like to see and hear what the NSA hears and sees of them.
How wonderful it would be to awaken in the morning to a packet of surveillance on one’s self.
There you are, crossing the street, entering a cafe, talking on the phone, as you appear to NSA (by whom I mean, of course, all the agencies who watch over us).
We could thus begin a kind of dialogue with our watchers. Back and forth, back and forth; who knows where it would lead?
I call it open secrecy, a paradox to be sure, but just the type that would crack the egg of a combative society as it transforms itself into a higher evolutionary substance.
Some day, perhaps we could even watch the NSA watching us.
Then, truly, we would breathe together. Made new in collective consciousness.
How do you like that, Stuart? Isn’t it an illustration of self-help, self-improvement, as we seek to love being spied on?
Link:
http://www.prisonplanet.com/senator-al-franken-from-snl-spoofer-to-nsa-surveillance-hawk.html
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