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Nina In New York: The Walls Have Ears (Because That's Where You Hung Your Flatscreen)

A lighthearted look at news, events, culture and everyday life in New York. The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer.
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By Nina Pajak

They're watching you. You know, the little men who live in your television set. You've got your suspicions about them also spending some time in your phone, your thermostat, and your fancy new fridge, but definitely there's a colony of spies who reside in your new smart TV and they help you change the channel and decide what to watch and they also are waiting to hear if you and your husband will patch things up or whether they should get Bridget Jones's Diary all cued up when they see you reach for the Pinot. It's not that they're judging you, it's only that THEY LOVE YOU, THEY KNOW YOU BETTER THAN YOU KNOW YOURSELF. They listen to all your most personal moments when you think you're alone. They know what's best. No tinfoil hat can stop them.

These may sound like rantings from some post-apocalyptic fan fiction website, but I've decided not to submit them in light of the news that they're actually pretty close to reality. As it turns out, those fancy pants new televisions that respond to voice commands actually are spying on you. In between waiting for verbal directions like, "Hi TV, volume down, I love you," the TVs are using their downtime to maybe sort of kind of eavesdrop on whatever other conversations you may be having in the room and then Samsung could, like, perhaps, you know . . . retain and pass that information to a third party.

Chatting about that new baby coming along? Hey, this is so weird but you just got a mailer with coupons to the local baby supply warehouse and the local minivan salesman just swung by to chat and hey, you seem stressed out. Here, have a seat and relax in front of an episode of Teen Mom. Oh, just a feeling. Call it a sixth sense.

Oh, I wouldn't reach for that remote control if I were you. Take your finger off that "deactivate voice control" button. Now back away. Slowly. I'm afraid we can't let you do that, Dave.

The new world isn't out there anymore. It's here. Hackers can get to us through our household appliances and the machine that once broadcast three fuzzy channels can now sell your soul to advertisers. A roomba in South Korea tried to eat a woman in her sleep this week! And Google is working on a giant robot dog who can quite nimbly recover when kicked. You guys. Why are you kicking him? Use your brains! Sure, today he stumbles a little and then trots along. Tomorrow, he shows up to work with a sentient brain and an unforgiving memory. Also, I'm against dog-kicking in all forms. It just seems mean, even if he is made of metal and wires and has no head.

I feel like we've diverged somewhat from the point here, to which I will now return: I know that nothing can stand in the way of progress, but maybe we just want to consider taking the next exit off the superhighway and cruising local roads for a while? I mean, we're just going so darn fast. It's tough to think clearly. The path can veer in unexpected ways and if you're speeding, you just zoom right by your destination without even realizing it. Did you know we lost the turnpike hours ago? I'm not saying we stop. I'm just saying we slow it down, check the map, give ourselves a little time to make sure we're still headed in the right direction. I'm only trying to be reasonable here. In the meantime, my TV and I are not on speaking terms.

Nina Pajak is a writer living with her husband, daughter and dog in Queens. Connect with Nina on Twitter!

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