06 August 2006
Postcard from US immigration - October 1997
On the plane today from Zurich to Los Angeles, I really thought that I'd cracked it. US immigration must be a binary system - it takes two months to get a visa, two weeks to get the visa into the passport, two days to reunite the passport with its owner, two hours to get through immigration and two minutes to get through customs. "See you in two seconds" I thought would be the right message.
But then I thought about the data. Over the past several weeks the US has accumulated more information about me than just about anyone. This is not just inside leg measurements for example (normally restricted to my wife and my tailor) but all sorts of personal thoughts, preferences and background (some things that even I don't like to think about). In the old days they were concerned about reds under the beds; today it seems to be more reds in the bed.
So what on earth do they do with all this information? I'm delighted to tell you that I've found out.
On arrival in LA, I was filled with excitement. This was going to be the first time that I was allowed to use a queue other than the one marked "Aliens". I couldn't find one marked "Humans" so I settled for "US residents". There the immigration official inserted my passport into a machine which scanned the visa and read in the data. The screen instantly filled with what type of bread I eat in the morning, how old my mother was when she first employed a German Au Pair and of course, my inside leg measurement. What possible value is all this to an over-worked immigration official with 300 frustrated 'humans' waiting behind me?
I loved his comment. It showed the importance of all this data gathering and that that this was not just a plot by Seagate and IBM to fill up disk drives faster than necessary. "Congratulations on your promotion to Vice President, David" he said. I glowed, smiled and instantly forgave him and his colleagues for the hell they have put me through over the last two weeks. I at last understand and realize that all the hassle has in fact been worthwhile.
Welcome to America.
But then I thought about the data. Over the past several weeks the US has accumulated more information about me than just about anyone. This is not just inside leg measurements for example (normally restricted to my wife and my tailor) but all sorts of personal thoughts, preferences and background (some things that even I don't like to think about). In the old days they were concerned about reds under the beds; today it seems to be more reds in the bed.
So what on earth do they do with all this information? I'm delighted to tell you that I've found out.
On arrival in LA, I was filled with excitement. This was going to be the first time that I was allowed to use a queue other than the one marked "Aliens". I couldn't find one marked "Humans" so I settled for "US residents". There the immigration official inserted my passport into a machine which scanned the visa and read in the data. The screen instantly filled with what type of bread I eat in the morning, how old my mother was when she first employed a German Au Pair and of course, my inside leg measurement. What possible value is all this to an over-worked immigration official with 300 frustrated 'humans' waiting behind me?
I loved his comment. It showed the importance of all this data gathering and that that this was not just a plot by Seagate and IBM to fill up disk drives faster than necessary. "Congratulations on your promotion to Vice President, David" he said. I glowed, smiled and instantly forgave him and his colleagues for the hell they have put me through over the last two weeks. I at last understand and realize that all the hassle has in fact been worthwhile.
Welcome to America.
# posted by DavidF @ 14:05 
