Two weeks ago, the city installed surveillance cameras at Seventh and Girard. One might question the logic of announcing the location of a crime-fighting surveillance camera; those stupid enough to commit a crime under the steely 24/7 gaze of the law surely could have been caught by low-tech means, such as leaving the front door of a prison open for the criminal to stumble in.

But security cameras have worked as a deterrent in some cities. For instance, sections of Baltimore — a trailblazer in civic spycams — reported a 30 percent plunge in criminal activity after cameras were installed.

Meanwhile, back in Philly, the NoLibsCam is just the beginning. Three more intersections are slated to be equipped with cameras by October, as well as mobile cameras that can be deployed as needed.

But we can't complain. We approved this on a ballot question back in May. I remember voting for it and thinking: Excellent idea.

And now I'm wondering if I should feel guilty about that. In fact, the tension is so great, it splits my mind in two:

Fascist Duane. And Civil Liberties Duane.

Fascist Duane: "A nice start. But four cameras isn't enough. Put a camera on one corner and thugs will move to another corner."

Civil Liberties Duane: "And I guess you'd want to put another camera there, too. The only way to stamp out crime completely would be to put cameras everywhere."

Fascist Duane: "Good thinking. Imagine walking down any street in town, day or night, knowing that the cops had your back."

Civil Liberties Duane: "Imagine walking down any street in town, day or night, and never being able to enjoy a single moment that wasn't 'observed, studied or recorded.'"

Fascist Duane: "When you're beaten senseless and left for dead, trust me pal — you'll want to be "observed and studied."

Civil Liberties Duane: "The only reason I'd be beaten is because the CIA flooded American cities with crack 20 years ago, devastating neighborhoods with ..."

As you can see, these guys have been going at it for a while. And they're dancing around a question we've been asking ourselves since 9/11: Are we making our cities safer, or are we just surrendering our freedom, one Patriot Act and bubble-domed surveillance droid at a time?

The security industry is phenomenally huge — $160 billion, according to CNN.com. What excites the Fascist Inside Me is all of the cool futuristic gizmos companies like General Electric have been cooking up. There's a device that picks up the electromagnetic waves emitted by a bomb strapped to a jihadist's chest, even if it's hidden under a jacket. There's another machine that can scan a crowd and pick up "erratic body movements," which would indicate distress. And locally, there's a company called Acoustech Corp. that's working on devices that can detect underwater divers with bombs, just in case they come swimming up the Schuylkill.

C'mon. This stuff is neat. And if it bags terrorists, then hell yes — bring on the rise of the machines. Even the civil liberties side of me would have to agree with that.

Civil Liberties Duane: "Oh yeah, neat — right up until the government surveillance cameras decide that too much of the population is 'distressed,' and they automatically dose the water supply with Happy Drugs™."

Goddamnit.

However, maybe it's not all bad. I do have a heartwarming story of surveillance to share with you.

Earlier this year, a married couple in Norco, Calif., woke up to find their front lawn covered in toilet paper. A bunch of punk kids, they suspected. The creeps also messed with the finish on their cars, busted up some light fixtures, screwed with the landscaping.

The wife and mother of six, Katja Base, decided to get even.

Base called local supermarkets, asking if there had been any unusually large t.p. purchases recently. As it turned out, one store reported a large purchase — two days before the attack on her home. She then persuaded the store manager to let her watch surveillance footage of the paper-goods aisle. There, she watched four teenagers buy 144 rolls of white two-ply. One of them was wearing his high school letterman jacket. A yearbook and online database search later, Base had her men.

Then Base shared her evidence with the Riverside County Sheriff's Department. The kids were busted.

Still a little scary? Maybe.

It all depends who's on the other side of that camera.

(duane@citypaper.net)