"Big brother," I corrected him while trying to make sense of the situation that left me feeling violated.
Marilena had a different opinion. "At least now they'll know who does the work around here!" I made a mental note to put her on my black list in the category reserved for rats, snitches and people never to trust.
Magically, it was at this point that our boss dropped anchor from his ivory tower. "So what's the camera for?" asked L.
"Strange place to put it," I said, fingering the one shooting directly onto my computer screen. "Shouldn't it be pointing to the windows? Unless of course, I'm the suspect."
"Does it bother you?" he asked. "Don't worry. It's just for security. In a few days you won't even know its here."
"That's exactly what bothers me," I said. "The thought that I may get used to it, consider it natural even, bothers me more than its actual presence."
He raised his eyes to the ceiling. "If we really wanted to spy on you, we'd use other methods that are not so obvious. There are systems we can place to track everything you do, and according to these devices its amazing what employees get up to during work time." (He gave me a meaningful glance...I wonder if he knows about this blog.)
Thankfully I wasn't the only one bothered and by the end of the day he promised to remove the cameras. But they're still up there, hovering over our shoulders. And I'm doing my best NOT to get used to them.
"There was of course no way of knowing whether you were being watched at any given moment. How often, or on what system, the Thought Police plugged in on any individual wire was guesswork. It was even conceivable that they watched everybody all the time. But at any rate they could plug in your wire whenever they wanted to. You had to live—did live, from habit that became instinct—in the assumption that every sound you made was overheard, and, except in darkness, every movement scrutinized."
George Orwell's "Nineteen Eighty-Four"