[Reader-list] More shots

[Menso Heus]

It happened again... I was waiting for my train to take me home tonight,
the warm air still holding the memory of the nice sumer day that had
passed. I think back on the kite-surfing lesson I had today when a man
walks up to me. He sees me rolling a cigarette and asks if he can bum 
one of me. I tell him it's no problem and let him roll one. 
He's humming some song, nervously shifting his weight from one leg to 
another, looking up from the cigarette he's rolling at me and back.
He's obviously got some mental or drugs problem.
When he finishes he gives me back my tobacco and walks away from where 
I'm standing to the stairs that lead down to the station's main hall. 

My train of thought is derrailed as shouting fills the platform, the 
man who bummed the cigarette of me is running from the stairs, back to
where I'm standing, three police officers at his heels. About five 
meters to my right they slam him into the wall of a small building that
sells snacks during business hours. The shouting doesn't stop at that 
though, three more officers have climbed the stairs to my left and are
now quickly running to where I and the other police men are standing,
obviously having thought about how to close in on the guy.
When the three fresh officers arrive one kicks away my bag while two 
others each take one of my arms and turn me around after which they
slam me into the wall in much the same way they did to the other 
guy. Before I can ask what has happened my arms are behind my back, 
cuffed, and I'm being searched in an agressive way. "What the hell is
going on here!" My screaming doesn't seem to have any effect on the cops
nor the people around me on the platform, waiting to go back to the same
city as I. "What the fuck is wrong with you guys?" 
When the police officer is done searching me they turn me around again
so that my back is against the building and I can see the rest of the 
trainstation again. "Oh there's no sense in denying," one of them says 
while pointing to a security camera, "we saw your little conversation
back in our office." I laugh hysterically and the cops exchange glances
with each other, probably thinking I've gone mad. "I didn't have a 
conversation, I just allowed the poor guy to roll a cigarette," I tell
them. Now they laugh, saying that's what "they all say" and how I can 
come down to their office and explain everything that happened there.

No, everything in the second paragraph didn't happen, though there was
the guy and there was the security camera and there was a me wondering 
how long it will take before these things will become common practice. 
People will become more paranoid with each other, not wanting to end up
in situations like this, trust will fail and a fail in trust will raise
aggression in the people. Emotion needs to find a way out, sadness through
crying, happiness through laughing, agression often through bloody violence. 

Not only will the authorities change their perspective from a "innocent until 
proven guilty" angle to "guilty until proven otherwise", so will the people 
if enough of these cases actually happen.
Isolation and alienation of people will be the natural consequence of 
this increasing use of surveillance cameras. Cracking down on someone
like this in public might never happen, it might be far fetched or 
very futuristic music but then again, it might not. 

People will turn into Maya Angelou's caged bird of which she wrote in 
a poem titled "I know why the caged bird sings":

"...
 But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams 
 his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream 
 his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing."

Oh but something caged is so much easier to control, and after a while you will
learn to love this cage and feel safe in it. The cage keeps the cat away from you
too, you know. Besides, a caged bird is still quite pretty thing to look at and 
there will be no sudden surprises like the bird not being there one day, flying off
is not an option while caged... 

The poem continues:

"The caged bird sings with a fearful trill 
 of things unknown but longed for still 
 and his tune is heard on the distant hill 
 for the caged bird sings of freedom." 

The song will be that of protest, the question is if by the time it will be sung
there is anybody there to hear it, care about it and remember freedom in the same
way a caged bird would sing about it...

I showed you mine, now show me yours,*

Menso

* Thoughts that is, please, don't send me jpgs ;)

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