DON'T GOOGLE PRESSURE COOKER YOU WILL GET A VISIT FROM THE POLICE THEY ARE REALLY WATCHING YOU

If you Google pressure cookers, you will get a visit from your local swat team!

coincidently entered search terms made on their home computer in recent weeks.

Catalano, who writes professionally, explained the whole story in her own words on her blog. In way of background, she explained:


Most of it was innocent enough. I had researched pressure cookers. My husband was looking for a backpack. And maybe in another time those two things together would have seemed innocuous, but we are in “these times” now. And in these times, when things like the Boston bombing happen, you spend a lot of time on the internet reading about it and, if you are my exceedingly curious news junkie of a twenty-year-old son, you click a lot of links when you read the myriad of stories. You might just read a CNN piece about how bomb making instructions are readily available on the internet and you will in all probability, if you are that kid, click the link provided.

Which might not raise any red flags. Because who wasn’t reading those stories? Who wasn’t clicking those links? But my son’s reading habits combined with my search for a pressure cooker and my husband’s search for a backpack set off an alarm of sorts at the joint terrorism task force headquarters.

That’s how I imagine it played out, anyhow. Lots of bells and whistles and a crowd of task force workers huddled around a computer screen looking at our Google history.

The curious incident, of course, piqued immediate media interest, especially in the aftermath of recent revelations made possible by Edward Snowden about the manner in which the NSA accesses online databases of internet sites, including Google, Facebook, and others.

“Do you have any bombs, they asked. Do you own a pressure cooker? My husband said no, but we have a rice cooker. Can you make a bomb with that? My husband said no, my wife uses it to make quinoa. What the hell is quinoa, they asked.”

As the police officers casually searched the home–looking on bookshelves, peaking in the kitchen–they asked the husband
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