China is surveying me. And you too of course

You who write blogs may not notice, but Chinese are watching us. Every few days, a Chinese robot hits my blog. They must survey every website on the entire planet for big data Intel, including me.

U.S. Chinese relations are indeed tricky now, but I still welcome their attention. Some days the Chinese MSS (Ministry of State Security) robot is the only blog hit I get. You see, I count every hit from every country before breakfast each day.

When I see these weekly Chinese robot visits, I feel a twinge of guilt. They make me feel better on days when nobody else hits on my site, and over time those hits boost my blog traffic. What does the Peoples Republic of China get in return? My blog stories about dog walkers, tea ceremony, and chamber music? As a reciprocation gesture, that’s small potatoes. Dog walking stories would be a disappointment even for a robot intelligence machine. They must be a complete bust to Mr. Chenjen. That’s not his real name, of course; MSS isn’t very forthcoming when it comes to handing out agents’ names; so you will understand that I’ve improvised and chosen this name for the poor guy responsible for reviewing two billion of the world’s web sites.

What could I write that would even register on Mr. Chenjen’s meter? I don’t do clandestine hot button topics like Huawei, missile defense, or Uyghur population unrest. I do dog walkers. That’s not much excitement for an overworked agent in Shenzhen staring at dozens of monitors, but it is all I have, and I’m proud of it.

If my blog shows up among the daily harvest of 17 trillion bits of Intel, do any agents notice? Officer Chenjen must be hoping for some top-secret tidbits. He might even settle for a bit of sex and violence to break the routine.  But no, he gets my blog stories on cleaning out the attic, urban turkeys, and blah blah blah. His eyes must glaze over.

“Mr. Chenjen! Please don’t stop reading. Yes, you have a tedious job, and I can empathize with you. I’ve read Congressional Transcripts, corporate annual reports, and hundreds of blogs. I feel your tedium-induced pain. Just thinking about reading 7 trillion mind-numbing pages per day would make anyone sympathize with you.

But what about me: You’re all I have some days, and I appreciate your attention. Don’t cut me off! “.

 “Is there something I can write to spark up your day? What can this retiree in his eighties scribble about that would race your motor and prevent the upper echelon in your Ministry from canceling me off the robot survey?

Would they go for some knock-knock jokes?