So finally, the UK catches up with the Developed World and has proper Google Map Streetview. And, by lucky hapt, one of the cities that has been mapped up to Ras is the Cradle of Civilisation and birthplace of your humble scribe. Consequently, the night has been pissed right up the wall.
I can look at my house, and notice that my fuckwitted ex-housemate has left the gate open again. I can register, with no little mortification, the fact that the entire world can see that my Mam and Dad still have their old-school satellite dish on the side of their house. I can tap the arrows like a bastard, and pretend that I'm running all the way to Lidl after ingesting a carrier bag full of speed. I've even seen the tranny who lives on Mansfield Road, sticking two fingers up at the camera.
But what, perchance, have all my peers been doing, to a man, on this ground-breaking (yet disturbingly stalky) technological breakthrough? If you said 'looking in certain areas of town for images of women who may or may not be prostitutes getting ready for the day's graft', you win a bonus point. Tut. Tut. Tut.
4 comments:
Oh you did not just go there. That word=neither big nor clever.
Tut tut indeed...troubling, even, in that when one has so much surveillance available people always zero in on what they find most base appeal in. I'd worry that it makes vulnerable people more vulnerable, and objectified people more objectified.
Yeah, and me linking to the pic doesn't help either, so I've nobbed it off. Bad call, there.
Mr Sex, in 1983 my father was murdered, dismembered, boiled & flushed down the toilet by infamous British serial killer Dennis Nilsen. I am posting about this in my blog. Maybe you'd like to have a read?
If not, excuse me for disturbing you.
Best wishes, Shane.
Shane,
Course I will.
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