by the blow of rejection
turns purple — then fades
Reminder to self
by the blow of rejection
turns purple — then fades
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The bruise left behind
by the blow of rejection
turns purple — then fades -
Quote of the day
“Baking is an act of love.” —Martin Philip -
Examining the digital footprint of crime
I recently started watching “Witness to Murder: Digital Evidence,” a true crime show that focuses on using technology to catch criminals. Think suspicious Google searches, stored destinations on GPS, incriminating YouTube videos, child porn and pings on cell towers.
It’s really quite amazing how much evidence folks create on their computers and cellphones. Even the act of turning off the phone or GPS while committing a criminal act can lead police right to a predator. Technology can help the authorities learn more about the victim as well, creating a timeline of events and providing connections to possible witnesses or persons of interest.
Then there’s the fact that so much of our public life is now captured on video. It’s creepy as hell when you think about it — very Big Brother — and yet such surveillance can both deter crime and catch people who’ve committed criminal acts. So often, the police officers interviewed on the show say the same things:
* The video is a witness without an agenda. It doesn’t lie.
* Without the video, we never would’ve identified the criminal/solved this crime/convicted the perpetrator.
As someone with “lawful good” tendencies, a life of crime has never interested me. I’d rather earn or win than take, and I’d rather help than harm. I wouldn’t hesitate to give police access to our Nest footage if it could help catch a culprit. And unless I had some proprietary information on it — or notes/recordings/photos about a news story I’m writing — the authorities would find nothing even remotely interesting on my phone, mostly just recipes and thousands of cat photos.
(One side-note: All those odd, murder-y Google searches are for my novel. I swear!)
That said, I’m surprised shows like this don’t make criminals rethink their actions. If the technology continues to improve, and of course it will, it’s going to be even harder to get away with crimes and remain on the lam. Plus, if you give up a life of crime, you don’t have to worry about every move you make, either in the real world or online.
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Feeling invisible — and that’s a good thing
My youngest cat, Pepper, loves to be invisible. She thinks that if she’s underneath a piece of paper or inside a box, you cannot see her (even if a paw or ear or tail is still showing), and thus she’s invincible.
I admit total responsibility for this. Every time Pepper hides underneath a piece of paper or inside a box, I behave as though she’s done the ultimate vanishing act.
“Where’s Pepper??? She was just here a minute ago and now she’s gone. She must be invisible!”
Although I spend a lot of time online, I feel as though no one can see me when I’m at home. The house is my version of Pepper’s paper or box; it’s the one place where I am generally unseen by most of the world and yet able to accomplish almost anything I set my mind to.
On those rare occasions when I do leave home, I tend to stick to the fringes. I go to places where people rarely congregate. And, due to the summer surge of COVID-19 infections (along with my latest disastrous dental issue), I wear a mask whenever I’m in public and around others.
Weirdly, I feel more seen when I wear a mask now because no one else is doing so. Apparently, most people are cool with repeatedly catching COVID and are unwilling to take even the smallest of precautions to avoid it. Since I do wear a mask, I stand out. In the past few years, I’ve also noticed that having a coughing fit in public puts an unwanted spotlight on me, masked or not.
All of this is to say that I’ve not become agoraphobic since the pandemic began. I don’t feel an irrational fear about leaving the house (unless I’m seeing a medical professional who plans to use needles on me). Nor have I become less social. I still chat with friends, meet online with my book group and enjoy dates with M.
But, like Pepper, I’ve begun to enjoy being invisible. At home, I feel loved, comforted and unseen. Or as The Whimsical Muse recently noted:
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I see you, Fall. And I’m ready when you are.
Holiday Jade briefly woke, peered at the brutal light of Summer and scowled. It was still too hot, too muggy, too buggy, too goddamn bright.
Just before returning to the blessed darkness to hibernate until the “Ber” months that are her domain, she caught a glimpse of something hopeful. For sitting on the desk in the kitchen was a stack of new catalogs featuring this year’s crop of Halloween decorations. A sign that, yes, her time will soon come.
As Holiday Jade returned to her attic — a room that is painted black and covered with layers of thick curtains — she smiled and began to imagine the coming of Autumn.
“Just a little longer…”
