Professional tiger trainer Ryan Holder pets one1-year-old female "Nairobi" before a performance of the Kelly Miller Circus in suburban Washington, D.C.
Photograph by: Allen Abel /For Postmedia News
June 14, 2013
OLNEY, Maryland — Tora the Tiger, Shonti the Tiger, Sumsara the Tiger, Jai the Tiger, Kali the Tiger, and Nairobi the Baby Tiger don’t have cell phones, even though they spend most of their time in a cell. When I meet them, they are yawning and disarmingly kittenish, indolently draped over each other in a pair of wheeled wire cages on the back lot of the Kelly Miller Circus, an old-fashioned “mud show” that embarks from Oklahoma each February on a 10-month odyssey to pitch its tent in some of the smallest towns in this country.
Lolling nearby are Lisa the Elephant, Becky the Elephant, Tracey the Elephant, four zebras whose names I do not know, various camels, ponies, horses, goats and puppies, plus two llamas who will parade around the ring during the second act of tonight’s show, costumed (to their seeming embarrassment) as Uncle Sam and the Statue of Liberty. Then the entire menagerie will be trucked to the next hamlet, and the next one, day after day after day, until Thanksgiving.
As the little circus peregrinates along the byways, various agents and agencies of the U.S. government will drop in randomly and unpredictably, just as they hover, we now know, over all of us down here, taking notes every time we place a phone call, send an email, watch a video, upload a photo, enter a building, go to the mall, or get on a bus.
Read more: http://www.canada.com/technology/circus+tigers+everyone+else+being+watched/8526293/story.html#ixzz2WFoxGino