The Rise and Rise of Big Brother

I have just read a terrifying report in the Daily Mail. Not a paper unknown for its scaremongering but even so this story should make every sensible Briton feel a whisper of fear for a Government report has raised the spectre of humans being implanted with microchips like dogs.

These chips would contain medical information, police records and could eb used to track you wherever you were. Employers could keep tabs on employees, husbands on wives and mothers on children. It is just one step away from George Orwell's iconic 1984. His book may have been a work of fiction but it is fast becoming the reality and it frightens me to death what sort of a world I am having to raise Pork Chop in.

The day the Government forces us to be microchipped is the day I emigrate. Fast. Our freedom has already taken a tremendous battering under this New Labour leviathan which seems intent on controlling us right down to knowing which brand of breakfast cereal we eat. Free speech is becoming more and more of a myth. If we could all talk freely then we wouldn't be on blogger all talking anonymously for fear of loss of jobs, home, liberty and so on. It comes to something when a web site, mumsnet.com to be precise, cannot talk at all about Gina Ford, a pre-eminent childcare expert because a few members made contrary statements about her. The web site is for mums with children and is everything about children and their upbringing. Surely a discussion on Gina Ford is a legitimate topic of conversation? Apparently Ms Ford's over zealous and Draconian lawyers think not.

Anyway I digress. The idea of microchipping is abhorrent. We would lose all freedom and Great Britain would effectively become one giant prison where people would have to ask permission to go away for the weekend or do the weekly trip to the supermarket. God forbid anyone would want to go abroad - I am sure the paperwork would take weeks with the Government rubbing its greedy little hands gleefully as it sets up yet another unelected unaccountable quango, employing thousands of faceless civil servants to deal with the applications.

The whole thing makes me feel quite ill and as I said I fear for Pork Chop's future - what sort of world are we bringing are children up in? What sort of a life are they going to have after we're gone and they have children of their own. Sometimes it really doesn't bear thinking about.