ON EVERY STREET CORNER AN ELECTRONIC POLICE AGENT MAY BE WATCHING YOUR EVERY STEP, GATHERING YOUR EVERY BREATH, LISTENING TO YOUR EVERY WHISPER. Like a poisonous mushroom, surveillance cameras sprout up on every corner. Already they are everywhere. In the rich neighborhoods they control the coffers of those who exploit us every day at work, those who organize the wars, those who accumulate money on our resignation. But there they are few: the rich want to be protected, not spied upon.

Where it is really impossible to take a step that escapes the notice of the electronic eye of the police is in the ghettoes where the poor are forced to live. Here it is life itself that is now being especially watched: every time it emerges again and quivers – in a complicit smile, in a gesture of rage, in a rock thrown at a cop - there is a guard that knits its brows and calls for reinforcements.

Behind every surveillance camera there is a club ready to hit you on the back and handcuffs ready tighten around your wrists. Life does not accept being constantly watched; if you accept being spied on and put on record, to accept surveillance cameras on every corner, it means you are already dead.


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