At its most fundamental, countersurveillance is being aware of small changes in your environment.
For example, when I moved to Vermont in September of 2005, I knew full well that someone there would be investigating me. So I set out to determine who it might be. Was it this guy? The Vermont State Police Detective who magically wanted to be my best bud and chat me up at the gas station? Maybe. Let’s find out. He sure seems to be mighty fascinated with the magazines I’m perusing at the drug store when he sees me walk in. (I enjoy fashion magazines and gossip magazines like People and Star and OK!)
In the end I determined that, yes, it was Officer Fat Ass because he was the guy who was just telling people that he was investigating me. He apparently was telling anyone who would listen: my boss at the gas station, his poker buddies, the lady at the tire store, his own wife, everyone he could buttonhole, apparently. (He got fired for his investigative acumen. More precisely, he got retired at half pension. He later threatened to sue the Vermont State Police for his full pension, and he got it, while having not put in the required duration of service and also while being completely incompetent and also while never having bought a ticket to my show which he knew was not free.)
So anyway, I knew something was up because his wife (who loved me) just one day started flashing me dirty looks all of a sudden. And then I had teenage lovers when I also know about three people in this world, none of them minors.
There is never any reason for people to be flashing me dirty looks. I don’t do anything that would merit dirty looks. I violate no laws, I’m not sleeping with anyone’s wife, I’m not stealing from anyone or harming anyone or otherwise doing anything that would merit a dirty look. So when people who had previously loved you just magically start flashing you dirty looks, it’s because there is disinformation being spread in your environment about you.
I detect disinformation being spread in my environment. I’m not too concerned about it, but it’s there.
I suspect that there is something up in my environment because people are flashing me dirty looks all of a sudden. It’s probably nothing, though, because the wealthy blue-hairs in this town are always dreaming up some new adventure that involves me and how I’m screwing the rich woman at the edge of town and stealing her jewelry and that explains why I don’t work for her anymore when the real reason is that I no longer do the kind of manual labor that I once did and that’s why I’m Public Fascination Object Number One in Touch Hole Junction, Vermont.
My life generates a Pulitzer-worthy story every. single. day.
I am America’s Senior Comedian. Thank you for your kind attention in this matter.