Little Brother is Watching *(111505)

James Bond is an overrated Boy Scout compared to me. The skills of theCIA, MI6, Mossad, and the defunct KGB in trawling for intelligenceinformation would pale in comparison to my spying prowess. My espionage network is more extensive than the dreaded Stasi, the East German secret police. I have no army of secret agents and informants; I don'teven have hawk-eyed reconnaissance satellites and other top-of the-lineeavesdropping and surveillance gadgets at my disposal. I only have millions of eyes and ears to guide me. And the name is de la Cruz, Juan de la Cruz.
As a spook, I have been monitoring politicians and bureaucrats as they hatch their latest heist. I have seen them confer doors in roomscleared of bugging equipment, perfecting the craft of doublespeak to cajole me to join their cause, swell their ranks with my warm body and lend legitimacy to their criminal schemes. When they disperse toaccomplish their plots, they bear smug grins in private, and beam fromear-to-ear in public, professing sincerity to the people, hoping tosway them with their rhetoric. But the people have reciprocated your insincerity with a grand display of apathy.
But I, Juan de la Cruz, am not blind. I am not dumb. I could discern that power and all its attendant privileges, and not public service, has always been your ultimate goal. Maybe, the greatest cause of your disappointment was not seeing my nameless face marching in the streets with you. But I am Juan de la Cruz, who could see through your deception.
If you are wondering where my fount of intelligence is, you should look over your shoulders, to your flanks, and to your front, for I ameverywhere. I am as ubiquitous as your names that you have displayed conspicuously in innumerable projects, claiming the endeavor as your own when you have dug deep into my pockets for funds and appointed yourself as my slave driver. You may not know it, but I am watching you everyday.
I am the bank employee who has stumbled on your loot, but you have manacled me with finely crafted legislation to conceal your crime. I am the waiter who has seen you in the company of characters from the netherworld, but you have bought my silence with generous tips andmuzzled me with veiled threats. I am the housemaid who has ushered your guests for a powwow on how you could allot power and wealth toyourselves more efficiently. I am the security guard who has patrolledyour plush enclave, scratching my head in utter disbelief at how your meager income could go a long way in building palatial homes andacquiring a fleet of cars, but I have been sternly warned not to leadnosy journalists to your hideaway.
I am the hotel concierge, the bellhop and chambermaid who have witnessed your trysts with pretty and handsome young things, but mywork contract has gagged me from feeding your escapades to the rumormill. I am the lowly traffic aide with precarious job tenure, forcingme to turn a blind eye on you and your loved ones' traffic infarctions.I am the slum dweller whom you pamper every elections and fatten foryour publicity stunts, consigning me to oblivion thereafter; choosing not to alleviate my wretched state for it is a viable spring of votes.I am the harassed daily commuter, trapped in a bottleneck, puzzled athow the flow of vehicles has degenerated into chaos; then, I saw you ina flashing cavalcade, parting the traffic like Moses and I knew thatyou did not share my predicament, so, loosening the gridlock did not merit your concern.
I am the everyman who has been aching to tear down billboards emblazoned with, "This is where your taxes go," and plaster theminstead on your mansions, posh condominiums, luxury vehicles anddesigner clothes. I have manifested myself in these many faces in the same way that I have seen evil's various forms in you.When you plot against me, Big Brother, scan your surroundings first,turn each rock, scrutinize every nook and cranny, and peer into everycrevice. You will never know where I would be perched to spy on you,for I am de la Cruz, Juan de la Cruz.