You know what wrinkles my britches? People thinking they can get around me. If any of you have read chapter 4 of my Dictator's Handbook, you'd remember I belong at the center of everything, where I can control, direct, manipulate, coopt, and generally get my way.
That's tough if I can't ready your email, listen in on your telephone conversations, or otherwise spy on you. (What are my spies going to do then with their free time, write poetry?)
So let's just say when I read about stuff like the Crypto Party people organizing conventions to spread info on circumnavigating my careful restrictions (don't forget, they weren't cheap to put in place, either: have you no respect for the finite resources of our state?) it pisses me off.
Yes, I've downloaded their little book and pawed through it. And what do I see? Using a VPN, encrypting email, making sure your software hasn't been violated by my goons with their spybots, using darknets, TOR, chatting securely, and even counter-surveillance, it makes me crack my knuckles.
Agents Dasher, Dancer, and Prancer, get yer asses over here. Go warm up the black van and the eavesdropping equipment. It's time we round up a couple folks for extended 'questioning.' I don't like the sound of this stuff at all.