On 30 June 2010, the FSB broke into my office again. They unplugged the Internet, opened the window and left the phone off the hook, placing it next to my laptop. The message was clear: we are still here.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
They went back there, looked at all the computers, asked me to come in and tell them what all the computers were for specifically so they knew how to dismantle the network I had been running.
Something else has happened with computers.
We can be incredibly disconnected in this day and age with computers and cell phones.
The FSB's invisible presence continued; the agency became an intangible part of my Moscow life - sometimes loudly, sometimes quietly, with someone in a back room clearly turning the volume of minor persecution up and down.
And it's here and it's ready and we can really revolutionize the way we educate our children with tablet computers, and I'm committed to doing whatever I can to speaking to whomever I can to send this signal - to pound this message home. Now is the time.
I detest computers. If you had a device like that 30 years ago that froze up constantly, misbehaved constantly, lost your information and screwed up when you needed it the most, it would have been laughable.
I said we're going to leave phones, and so we did. We sold it to Sony.
Customer service, they say, is dead. Actually, it isn't. It's just hiding behind a call center in Manila.
At that point, which would be around February 2002, they came and they confiscated my computer, because, they said, they were suspecting that I was communicating with certain Senate members and taking this issue outside the Bureau.
They've finally comes up with the perfect office computer. If it makes a mistake, it blames another computer.