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silver_sunIn light of the government being about to announce internet censorship for us all here in the UK I thought I'd post this old original fic. (It's okay you can opt out, but if you do you basically have to tell your ISP that you want to watch adult content. Despite the fact that the filter, if they use something like Hubris actually blocks, anything with adult content, as well as all internet based email (Gmail, Hotmail etc) online gaming (World of Warcraft etc) and instant messaging (Aim, Google's chat thing). It might block Facebook and things like online banking websites as well - although I've not found anything definite about these two.
Even if they don't you'll be restricted to what you can see. There are already a lot of LJ pages I can't see if I access the site from Starbucks/other free highstreet wifi. Anything with might contain adult content/does contain adult content is blocked. This is part of their 'family safe' filter. It also stops you reading anything other than g or pg rated fic on AO3 and fanfic.net It also stops you watching post watershed programming on things like BBC Iplayer. It's also occasionally blocked news articles and accessing links in petitions from things like All Out which supports LGBT rights.
Presumably this is the level of control that will be rolled out across the UK. I will be asking for it to be switched off. Yes I have a child, but when he is old enough to go on the computer on his own I will create him a separate login which has filters. I do not need the government playing Big Brother for me.
New article is here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-23401076
Liberty Lost.
Original fic.
Rating. G
Word count 1650.
This story has been kicking about in one form or another since July 2005, and is finally as complete as it's going to get.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nobody set out to lose us our democratic rights and freedoms that had been so hard won over the centuries. It was not the megalomaniac scheme of some power crazed invader or dictator. It did not happen overnight.
Slowly and with full knowledge we let it happen. Little things, inconsequential things eroded out personal freedoms. Things that we believed we wanted. Things that we thought would make us safe and that would let us live in a better world.
The reasoning behind the main events that lost us those freedoms that our forebears fought so hard to obtain are still frighteningly plausible, which is why event know in dying days 2039 there are those who still be believe that tighter controls are the way forward.
Many of you will not know how the erosion of liberty started as access to materials likely to cause public unrest or fear were suppressed. I shall take my chances with officers of public relations and censorship, for some things have to be said. Truth cannot remain silent – or all hope is truly lost
2019 this is the accepted year that the great erosion started, but it was so inconsequential, so minor then, that we had no notion of what it had started. The introduction of the Public Media Protection Act made a lot of news broadcasts at the time, and there was the generally praise for it with regards as to what it would do to reduce swearing, violence and sex on television and the net.
Most forms of entertainment got round this law by putting disclaimer before and after the programme or text to say that it was fictional as a way of allying public fears. As a consequence it was factual programmes, who were unable to issue such disclaimers, such as news and documentaries, were the hardest hit.
Two years later in 2021 this was followed by the incitement to civil hatred and unrest bill. It was passed apparently at the overwhelming request of public opinion to limit broadcast and publication of material designed to cause unrest, criminal behaviour and civil disobedience. The result, as we now know, was to effectively stop any form public protest or campaign.
The eventual introduction of state identity cards in 2025, an idea that had been on the cards so to say, for over thirty years, was despite apparent public support, widely distrusted. With the civil unrest and hatred bill in full force there was no legal way to protest against it.
The ID card as it stood when it was introduced was not the same as card we now carry as a matter of course. The original card was designed to hold information on your name, age, gender, blood type, current residence along with fingerprint and optical data so that you could be formally identified if asked to do so.
It was only seven years ago that it became a criminal offence not to have it on your person at all times.
And so to today, where the latest move is now to have an ID chip instead of a card – it is toted to be a simple elegant solution to the constant problems of lost or stolen cards. Have it implanted under your skin – it only takes a moment, will last you a lifetime, you will never lose it again, after all you have it done to you cat or dog – is your identity worth less than that of you pet? Every moment that you delay is another moment when somebody could steal you card and use it get you into trouble.
Or at least this is how the Office for Public Safety would like to tell it to you. Except that implying that someone else could use your card would call into question its validity as an identification tool and would create public fear, because of the suggestion that the owner of a card, i.e. the whole population could be victim to a crime.
So now that we read our censored books, watch our censored TV, and carefully write our emails so as to make sure we don’t offend anybody or suggest anything that would cause anybody to upset the social norm. Now we have to clock in and out of our own homes, shops, schools, libraries, hospitals the list is endless.
Now that we even have to swipe the card for our shopping so that it can be found out if we are buying any dangerous combinations of products.
Now that every second of our life is monitored and scrutinised to the smallest degree do we feel safe, do we feel secure – or do we all live in dread that we will out of forgetfulness, thoughtlessness or desperation at the current situation break one of the laws.
So now we all know now how liberty was lost; liberty was lost through the actions of the few and the inactions of the many.
But how is it to be regained?
Yawning, Morgan lent back in her chair, before reaching forward and hitting the save button. The E-leaflet was getting there, all hell would break loose after it was sent, but hopefully by then she would be long gone, to some other location ready to start work on the next mass email campaign.
Powering off the old laptop she smiled. It was a classic piece of design, simple, effective and with the part that would allow it to connect to the internet removed, virtually untraceable.
“You want a coffee, Morgan?” shouted a voice from the other room.
“No, I’d better be going, Rick. See you tomorrow.”
“Aye, see you soon lass.” There was a clattering and some muffled cursing.
Morgan smiled. Rick might be a good electrician, but he was first class at clumsiness.
With the laptop bundled in an old sheet and pushed into a backpack Morgan let herself out of the small flat.
The street lights shone dimly in the rainy night, making small pools of wet orange light in the soaking blackness. Pulling her coat hood up she walked quickly down the deserted street. Unprepared paving stones made squishing noises as water that had seeped under them was forced out as they were trodden on.
Water ran down the street the gutters choked with fallen leaves and litter unable to cope with the volume of water. Rounding the corner into the high street Morgan looked at the once gleaming shop fronts. It had seemed such a magical place as a child, all the electronics stores filled with shining technology and bright lights, the department stores with bright clothes, and things for the home.
The recession had hit high street businesses hard. It had hit everyone hard. That had been years ago and recovery still seemed a dream. Nothing was going to go back to the way it used to be: too much had been lost. The government said that the economy was bouncing back, that there were success stories everywhere life was better than it had ever been – so why were there so many worried faces, so much uncertainty, so much fear for the future?
Fishing in her pocket for a key, Morgan let herself into the tiny flat that she rented above what used be a continental bakery before money got so tight people had given up on a lot of the little luxuries. The two room flat consisted of a bed-sitting room with one corner converted to a small kitchenette and a shower/toilet room.
At least it didn't take much to heat or light. Not that she had any electricity since last month when she had failed to pay the bill again. After lighting a candle, she made her way to the cupboard and removed a can of beans. Opening it she stood it on a small burner over a camping gas bottle, lighting it Morgan checked the post she had thrown on the side that morning as she hurried out to work.
Another final demand bill for electric, or they would take her to court. Well the worse they could do was send her to a debtors prison for thirty days as she had no money to pay for the debt. It was followed by a letter from the gas company demanding almost exactly the same thing. And a postcard from her mother asking how everything was going in the big city. Morgan smiled, just like Ma to call a town like Branton a big city. Looking out the window on to the empty street below she shook her head, why do I stay?
Because my friends are here? Because I have a job however badly paid? Because by writing leaflets for the 'Society for Change' makes me feel like I’m part of something bigger? Or just because if I go home I will have to admit that I have failed to make a life for myself, that there is nothing left to hope for, to become another one of the faceless, dead-eyed people that she'd see every day back up north.
The beans bubbled gentle in their tin. Well at least I've got my health, a roof over my head and food for tonight at least, she thought.
Tipping the beans onto a plate with a piece of cold toast left over from breakfast, Morgan sat on the old two seater sofa and turned on the radio for half an hour to get the alternative ten o’clock news.
The ATN, as those who listened to it called it, was an attempt to continue broadcasting uncensored local and national news. Using the old Short Wave radio frequencies that had been disused for a number of years since all commercial radio had gone digital in the 2010’s had been inspired. It was necessary for the identities of the two presenters to remain anonymous as broadcasting uncensored news, especially monthly state of the country review, would get them serious jail time.
As depressing as the news usually was, Morgan listened to it every night. Because one day she hoped that the news would be better, that life would get better. Because without hope, what else was there?
Even if they don't you'll be restricted to what you can see. There are already a lot of LJ pages I can't see if I access the site from Starbucks/other free highstreet wifi. Anything with might contain adult content/does contain adult content is blocked. This is part of their 'family safe' filter. It also stops you reading anything other than g or pg rated fic on AO3 and fanfic.net It also stops you watching post watershed programming on things like BBC Iplayer. It's also occasionally blocked news articles and accessing links in petitions from things like All Out which supports LGBT rights.
Presumably this is the level of control that will be rolled out across the UK. I will be asking for it to be switched off. Yes I have a child, but when he is old enough to go on the computer on his own I will create him a separate login which has filters. I do not need the government playing Big Brother for me.
New article is here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-23401076
Liberty Lost.
Original fic.
Rating. G
Word count 1650.
This story has been kicking about in one form or another since July 2005, and is finally as complete as it's going to get.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nobody set out to lose us our democratic rights and freedoms that had been so hard won over the centuries. It was not the megalomaniac scheme of some power crazed invader or dictator. It did not happen overnight.
Slowly and with full knowledge we let it happen. Little things, inconsequential things eroded out personal freedoms. Things that we believed we wanted. Things that we thought would make us safe and that would let us live in a better world.
The reasoning behind the main events that lost us those freedoms that our forebears fought so hard to obtain are still frighteningly plausible, which is why event know in dying days 2039 there are those who still be believe that tighter controls are the way forward.
Many of you will not know how the erosion of liberty started as access to materials likely to cause public unrest or fear were suppressed. I shall take my chances with officers of public relations and censorship, for some things have to be said. Truth cannot remain silent – or all hope is truly lost
2019 this is the accepted year that the great erosion started, but it was so inconsequential, so minor then, that we had no notion of what it had started. The introduction of the Public Media Protection Act made a lot of news broadcasts at the time, and there was the generally praise for it with regards as to what it would do to reduce swearing, violence and sex on television and the net.
Most forms of entertainment got round this law by putting disclaimer before and after the programme or text to say that it was fictional as a way of allying public fears. As a consequence it was factual programmes, who were unable to issue such disclaimers, such as news and documentaries, were the hardest hit.
Two years later in 2021 this was followed by the incitement to civil hatred and unrest bill. It was passed apparently at the overwhelming request of public opinion to limit broadcast and publication of material designed to cause unrest, criminal behaviour and civil disobedience. The result, as we now know, was to effectively stop any form public protest or campaign.
The eventual introduction of state identity cards in 2025, an idea that had been on the cards so to say, for over thirty years, was despite apparent public support, widely distrusted. With the civil unrest and hatred bill in full force there was no legal way to protest against it.
The ID card as it stood when it was introduced was not the same as card we now carry as a matter of course. The original card was designed to hold information on your name, age, gender, blood type, current residence along with fingerprint and optical data so that you could be formally identified if asked to do so.
It was only seven years ago that it became a criminal offence not to have it on your person at all times.
And so to today, where the latest move is now to have an ID chip instead of a card – it is toted to be a simple elegant solution to the constant problems of lost or stolen cards. Have it implanted under your skin – it only takes a moment, will last you a lifetime, you will never lose it again, after all you have it done to you cat or dog – is your identity worth less than that of you pet? Every moment that you delay is another moment when somebody could steal you card and use it get you into trouble.
Or at least this is how the Office for Public Safety would like to tell it to you. Except that implying that someone else could use your card would call into question its validity as an identification tool and would create public fear, because of the suggestion that the owner of a card, i.e. the whole population could be victim to a crime.
So now that we read our censored books, watch our censored TV, and carefully write our emails so as to make sure we don’t offend anybody or suggest anything that would cause anybody to upset the social norm. Now we have to clock in and out of our own homes, shops, schools, libraries, hospitals the list is endless.
Now that we even have to swipe the card for our shopping so that it can be found out if we are buying any dangerous combinations of products.
Now that every second of our life is monitored and scrutinised to the smallest degree do we feel safe, do we feel secure – or do we all live in dread that we will out of forgetfulness, thoughtlessness or desperation at the current situation break one of the laws.
So now we all know now how liberty was lost; liberty was lost through the actions of the few and the inactions of the many.
But how is it to be regained?
Yawning, Morgan lent back in her chair, before reaching forward and hitting the save button. The E-leaflet was getting there, all hell would break loose after it was sent, but hopefully by then she would be long gone, to some other location ready to start work on the next mass email campaign.
Powering off the old laptop she smiled. It was a classic piece of design, simple, effective and with the part that would allow it to connect to the internet removed, virtually untraceable.
“You want a coffee, Morgan?” shouted a voice from the other room.
“No, I’d better be going, Rick. See you tomorrow.”
“Aye, see you soon lass.” There was a clattering and some muffled cursing.
Morgan smiled. Rick might be a good electrician, but he was first class at clumsiness.
With the laptop bundled in an old sheet and pushed into a backpack Morgan let herself out of the small flat.
The street lights shone dimly in the rainy night, making small pools of wet orange light in the soaking blackness. Pulling her coat hood up she walked quickly down the deserted street. Unprepared paving stones made squishing noises as water that had seeped under them was forced out as they were trodden on.
Water ran down the street the gutters choked with fallen leaves and litter unable to cope with the volume of water. Rounding the corner into the high street Morgan looked at the once gleaming shop fronts. It had seemed such a magical place as a child, all the electronics stores filled with shining technology and bright lights, the department stores with bright clothes, and things for the home.
The recession had hit high street businesses hard. It had hit everyone hard. That had been years ago and recovery still seemed a dream. Nothing was going to go back to the way it used to be: too much had been lost. The government said that the economy was bouncing back, that there were success stories everywhere life was better than it had ever been – so why were there so many worried faces, so much uncertainty, so much fear for the future?
Fishing in her pocket for a key, Morgan let herself into the tiny flat that she rented above what used be a continental bakery before money got so tight people had given up on a lot of the little luxuries. The two room flat consisted of a bed-sitting room with one corner converted to a small kitchenette and a shower/toilet room.
At least it didn't take much to heat or light. Not that she had any electricity since last month when she had failed to pay the bill again. After lighting a candle, she made her way to the cupboard and removed a can of beans. Opening it she stood it on a small burner over a camping gas bottle, lighting it Morgan checked the post she had thrown on the side that morning as she hurried out to work.
Another final demand bill for electric, or they would take her to court. Well the worse they could do was send her to a debtors prison for thirty days as she had no money to pay for the debt. It was followed by a letter from the gas company demanding almost exactly the same thing. And a postcard from her mother asking how everything was going in the big city. Morgan smiled, just like Ma to call a town like Branton a big city. Looking out the window on to the empty street below she shook her head, why do I stay?
Because my friends are here? Because I have a job however badly paid? Because by writing leaflets for the 'Society for Change' makes me feel like I’m part of something bigger? Or just because if I go home I will have to admit that I have failed to make a life for myself, that there is nothing left to hope for, to become another one of the faceless, dead-eyed people that she'd see every day back up north.
The beans bubbled gentle in their tin. Well at least I've got my health, a roof over my head and food for tonight at least, she thought.
Tipping the beans onto a plate with a piece of cold toast left over from breakfast, Morgan sat on the old two seater sofa and turned on the radio for half an hour to get the alternative ten o’clock news.
The ATN, as those who listened to it called it, was an attempt to continue broadcasting uncensored local and national news. Using the old Short Wave radio frequencies that had been disused for a number of years since all commercial radio had gone digital in the 2010’s had been inspired. It was necessary for the identities of the two presenters to remain anonymous as broadcasting uncensored news, especially monthly state of the country review, would get them serious jail time.
As depressing as the news usually was, Morgan listened to it every night. Because one day she hoped that the news would be better, that life would get better. Because without hope, what else was there?
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no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 12:52 pm (UTC)Great fic, though.:-)