Support your local Telescreen.
Genuflect to your new "state fusion center." It seeks to know you better than God does.
And, for Heaven's sake, do nothing suspicious.
The Washington Post is doing a series on federal, state, and local police lust to put you, me, and the other 330 million of us under the microscope.
A trip to WalMart (which is cooperating with the snoops) for a bag of rose fertilizer and a gallon of kerosene for your shop heater gets you -- or in due course will get you -- a place in the database of suspected terrorist ANFO freaks.
"At the same time that the FBI is expanding its West Virginia database, it is building a vast repository controlled by people who work in a top-secret vault on the fourth floor of the J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building in Washington. This one stores the profiles of tens of thousands of Americans and legal residents who are not accused of any crime. What they have done is appear to be acting suspiciously to a town sheriff, a traffic cop or even a neighbor."
The cost is hideous, tens or hundreds of billions; we're in the dark because, of course, telling us what we're paying would alert Osama that we're trying to catch his acolytes.
So far the universal Telescreen seems to be quite effective in nabbing Sad Sacks with outstanding traffic warrants. And tracking the vacationer who photographs a Staten Island ferry boat.
Folks, the WaPo piece is long. It is worth your time.
And it is actionable if your habits are as suspicious as mine. At least three times this year I have entered WalMart in the deep dark of late night to purchase munitions to fit my BL22, (a weapon fully capable of killing at 100 yards). There is no place in the Miniluv database for a lame explanation about disliking crowds. So, from now on, I'll buy the Federal 550 bulk packs at Noon, in the Darkness thereof.