nunoncastors

I mused, not too long ago, about emigration – an option that is still very much on the table – and the creeping arrival of our shiny new police state; two concepts which, it must be said, fail to fill me with any particular enthusiasm. You see, for all my bluster and bridling, I don’t really want to leave the country, I like it here.

Well, I like certain aspects of being here, my friends living just down the road is handy and, when it’s not being marred by lego-inspired building projects, the countryside is glorious – weather permitting. Yet there remains much that is distressing, and the general direction in which the nation is heading remains chief among many disappointments. The level of violent crime bothers me, of course, but there is simply something about our increasingly draconian government, the measures they implement, and their endless polit-speak that I find more unsettling than the prospect of being mugged in the dark. I imagine it’s simply my own paranoia.

Granted, I don’t live in a country where debate is quashed and dissenters disappear in the middle of the night, but that, I suspect, is simply because there’d be no need for anything so extreme, a large proportion of the population seems quite happy reading Heat Magazine and watching East Enders until apathy drives their brain out through their nose. When there is debate, it’s almost impossible to discuss the continuing growth of our surveillance state without someone quoting Niemöller, referencing Orwell, or spiralling into the usual paranoid delusions of plots, schemes, and secret government departments. I realise that I’m guilty of this to some extent, indeed, my fears may well be completely unfounded, but the more I hear the argument that those with nothing to hide have nothing to fear, the more I worry.

So then, do I have something to hide? Well, no, not really. I also don’t have anything that I feel particularly compelled to share with anyone beyond these pages, let alone faceless bureaucracy. I certainly don’t appreciate being hassled by PCSOs for taking photographs, or having to explain myself when I – shock-horror – return from holiday.

Personally, I don’t think my expectations are especially unreasonable; I’d like to hear a valid case for a national ID card scheme, preferably one where the RFID chips can’t be hacked in a few minutes, and I’d like it if councils weren’t allowed to use anti-terrorism legislation to spy on the very people they’re supposed to be working for. Ideally, I’d like to live in a world where politicians are held accountable, beyond the usual piecemeal apologies, every time they shit millions of pounds of our collective money into holes in the ground. A glorious dream, but is it really that unreasonable?

As it is, I’m sat here reading about Police Officers who like to try and arrest you for taking pictures of them, taking pictures of you. Which seems… odd in a country that’s supposed to be open and honest, filled with love and flowers, and possessed of all sorts of wonderful things Westminster assures us we need. Detention without charge is my favourite.