This morning I received my weekly propaganda from the political parties, in which the world has been painted in multiple view points and contradictory terms. The Alliance Party routinely facilitate an adequate briefing for Northern Ireland; always nice to know what is occurring back home.
Several invitations to participate in protests and campaigns, which Her Majesty's government are probably fully aware about. Finally, my friend Mike and I discussed the events of this weekends football results and celebrated the rejuvenated Torres.
Rather tedious, don't you think? My daily inbox routinely depicts the mundane life of a political junkie and blogger, nothing too exciting. Sadly, though, the Home Office are desperate for a greater insight into our lives; and this includes not just e-mails, but texts, phone calls and websites. Forgive me, prime minister, but my life is not that extraordinary to warrant monitoring - unless Downing Street routinely needs updates from 'Too Liberal' (which, sadly, I highly doubt). Forgive me for desiring some privacy, but the notion of a civil servant storing my personal interactions is rather terrifying; this is literally a contemporary incarnation of 1984.
But, alas, we return to my personal life. The last phone call, prime minister, was with a work colleague and we discussed the length of my hair; yes, she feels I warrant a haircut. And if you desire access to my credit card, you'll notice I fulfilled her request this morning. Coincidentally, the last text message was from the same person, and it read "how was your day? x". Again, extremely tedious.
Later, I shall receive an e-mail from Huffington Post confirming the uploading of this blogpost - which is automated, don't get too excited. No doubt, at some point, I'll author an e-mail complaining about arbitrary government and violating the basic rights of citizens, but I'm sure you'll just gloss over that minor inconvenience. During the period of writing this blog post there has not been any new phone calls, texts or e-mails; forgive me, for the disappointment, but it is lunch time after all.
In conclusion, prime minister, I have saved you the effort of accessing my personal communications. And, as we can see, my life is rather tedious and uneventful to warrant the same suspicions as a terrorist. Nor am I a potential terrorist, either. It might be difficult to comprehend, but most of us live boring lives that are extremely dull and will require no state interest. I've been kind enough to inform the government of my recent communications, but I would prefer it if-on behalf of the United Kingdom-you left me, and others, alone to our boring e-mails.