Curiosity took me there. The movement seemed so asinine at the time. I never believed it wouldn’t amount to anything; rather, it would stay a root grass movement representing a ton of angry people shouting at the wind.
“What is more dangerous than guns?” the lady screamed at the crowd. Her face twisted in hate as the color in her face matched the blood pudding I had eaten for lunch. “What is more dangerous than the atomic bomb?”
Sharp drops of rain pelted my face as I pulled my parka tighter around my body, wishing I had worn a coat instead of choosing the parka for looks. The wind picked up, and I wasn’t sure I would last long at the convention with the unpleasant weather. The people who were dedicated to the movement didn’t seem affected by the nasty weather, perhaps propelled by it.
The lady bent down, then burst into the air, her arms flailing everywhere for dramatic effect. “The dissemination of thought. That is the true danger that threatens our democracy and our safety.” The crowd roared in approval. “And how does that thought spread? How do the crusaders of hate spread their thoughts?”
Wasn’t she a crusader of hate? If she hated free thought so intensely, wasn’t that the very platform she used to share her thoughts?
“The internet! Yup, I said it. The internet is the most dangerous vehicle in our world.”
The internet? Really?
“We must control the internet!”
The icy rain morphed into little pellets of hard hail. This lady wasn’t selling ideas that I cared to stand in the infernal weather for. I shoved my blueish fingers into my pockets and continued walking to my car.
That was the first time I had heard their radical idea; again, I hadn’t given it much thought. I guess if I had, it wouldn’t have the frightening course of events.
Seven years later, life changed.
The lobbyists, the radicals, the government took the idea of a dangerous internet and ran with it. The fear and control spread like a fire in a meadow of dry grass.
“These gatekeepers will monitor the internet and stop the spread of dangerous movements.” That was the first step, and the world bought into it, like a fish swallowing a deadly hook adorned with shiny bait.
The Internet Safety Committee (ISC) was born. Most countries have embedded monitoring controls on all of their products. Somewhere in a dingy warehouse, I imagined thousands of bored employees monitoring everything that went over the internet. Most programs and apps had governors built in that stopped most of the passing of information, but the ISC filtered anything the programs might miss.
Suddenly, social media took on a new look as most political thoughts were halted—well, the political thoughts that went against the main governing ideas.
At least half of the nation was angry, but what could we do? We had lost our place to voice our anger and our concerns.
It only took a year for the regulations to increase.
“We do not believe that social media outlets are in the nation's best interests,” the whore-mongering government cried. And within months, all social media outlets were disbanded.
The new generation of adults lost their minds. They had been raised on social media, hand fed the idea of posting every minute of their lives across the electronic grid.
The next step of control came in the schools when the government forced all educational systems to use the ISC’s carefully curated internet provider. It regulated absolutely every aspect of education. No longer were institutes allowed to create their educational programs. The power to decide what aspects of study was removed. They were only allowed to use the information and curriculum that the ISC deemed appropriate. History was changed. Science altered. Thoughts removed, while new theories formed.
But that wasn’t enough.
“An improperly educated person is the most dangerous thing to society,” became the new tout. “We can not allow people to form dangerous opinions.”
ISC became the worldwide internet provider. Each country had different versions of the ISC internet, each service tailored to the country's dictator.
But that wasn’t enough.
Soon, all access to information was removed, and platforms to share thoughts were shut down. The only information available was what the dictators wanted you to know.
We were given access to online stores from which we could shop, but there was no access to contact any of the stores. We were given literature to read, but only what the ISC deemed appropriate.
A little over eleven years from the first time I heard about regulating information, everything was taken from the citizens. The internet no longer represented a form of information or connection. It was a highly regulated form of government control.
Today, I stumble into another movement underway. This time, it is a man, yet he has the same vigor and determination as the lady I saw eleven years ago. The weather is decent this time as I listen to his frightening screaming.
“What is more dangerous than guns? What is more dangerous than the atomic bomb?” Had he copied the lady’s speech? He turns in my direction, and our eyes lock. “Free access libraries. They hold the danger in every book on their shelves. We must tear them down!”
I had done nothing to stop the seizure of our internet. I had idly stood by while my freedoms had been stripped from me. And now, they want more.
I must do something.
I must take action.
This is a new movement, but the same idea—the removal of our freedom.
And so it begins again.
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