The ID chip in my brand-new shoes
And the ID chip in my jeans
Have been talking to strangers I pass on the street
And I’m not really sure what that means
The chip in my shirt holds a brief conversation
With chips in the windows of stores
It talks to the bagels and talks to the books,
But me, it politely ignores
Are they planning surprises? Sharing some gossip?
Just talking behind my back?
Are they sentient beings with minds of their own
Using software to plan an attack?
Is it companies working to track their consumers
To figure which items are hot?
Is it Microsoft, Apple, McDonald’s or worse,
Some sort of a government plot?
I’m ripping the tags from my shoes and my clothing
To frustrate the spies and the moles
So no one will know as I walk down the street
With my clothing in tatters and holes.
Paranoid rant, after the jump: [Read more…]