Big Brother is Watching Me

In more ways than one.

Having just celebrated my sixth month out of work and on the dole, the local council, my union and, I believe, the tax office, are all keeping tabs on my comings and goings. I realise now, that if all those of us who are the innocent victims of the economic crisis, which was caused by an excess of corporate greed, actually got back to work, the people who are employed to check up on us would all be unemployed, thus ensuring the survival of the system. They would all be able to keep an eye on each other or, at least, their former colleagues. It’s a bit like the famous “Catch 22”.

How very Orwellian. Shades of “1984”.

I’m not worried. We never jumped on the ‘borrow now, pay later’ bandwagon. My dear lady and I have always had the gumption to save up and buy for cash what everybody else took out huge loans for. Now the banks are demanding payback and a lot of folks around here are finding life very miserable indeed. Not so for us. We always calculated our expenditure on the basis that one of us could lose our job.

I have a plan to get myself out of this. No-one is about to employ me at the ripe old age of 56. Younger manpower is called for in these times. Not some job-wise, money-wise, unafraid of the boss type, like me.  No. I have to employ myself. And that’s what I’m working on. I’m going to start by temping and when I have enough of these industrial temp bureaus feeding me with work, I’ll go freelance for them. At the same time, I intend to start a little business up with my pal, who is also out of work but drawing an early pension. I can’t start a business while being on the dole. The system won’t let you have any support in the start-up phase but it will let you take all the risk. I figure that in between freelancing, I can get my business up and running while still earning something to pay the bills with. We’ll see.

So how is Big Brother otherwise keeping an eye on me?
Well, my real Big Brother is. I just got off the phone with my little brother who is presently eyeing up a pub in Portland, South England. He was telling me stuff about myself that I know he doesn’t know about me.
So how come?

Simple.

Big Brother is reading my blog and letting little brother know about what I write here. Little bro doesn’t have a computer. Big bro has on-line access somewhere.

So, hey Big bro, say hello to little bro and by the way, he lets me know what you’re up to! Anyhow, there’s link at the top of this page; “Drop Exile a Line”. You can always get a message to me there, if you open that link. Just so you know.

It’s nice to know, someone’s got your back.

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