In a recent column, Michelle Malkin relates the latest airport indignities she's had to endure, this time from, among others, a cackling geezer who felt an inexplicable need to confiscate a paperclip. You can make a machine gun out of those, presumably. Add tweezers and you've got a laser cannon.
Homeland 1, paperclip-wielding terrorists 0.
Malkin's makes the one millionth column by an irate American scribbler about how Americans are being shoved and chivvied by craphead airport "security" personnel. (Meanwhile, Average Joe is saying, "Ah, it makes me feel so secure that they're so thorough." If so, a hot poker up the ass would make him feel even more secure.) The other day Walter Williams wrote about how Al Gore was being given The Security Treatment. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy. But even Republicans do not believe that Al Gore would try to blow up a plane. An election, maybe. Not a plane.
Before that there was a piece by Ron Holland about how some truck-like broad wanted to clutch his wife's bosom in the name of "security" (because her brassiere had some kind of metal wiring that set off the metal-wiring-in-bra detector).
Enough is enough. Because of what some Islamic nihilist fascist scum-sucking mass-murderers did on September 11, today you--like me, perfectly innocent--can be arrested and fined and given probation--in generous lieu of jail time--for making a harmless wisecrack at the airport. You risk being shot at if you don’t want some truck-like lesbo to clutch at your breast. Backtalk is now a felony. This intimidates everybody into grimly bearing whatever noxious petty lunacies the airport-security crapheads decide to dish out.
Well, to heck with that, people.
Enough is enough. It is time to fight back against the craphead airport-security potentates, time to fight back against the bilgeous bimbos and bilious Bilboes so zealous to exercise unimpeded their sick and puny power lust.
Got ten, twenty years of your life to spare? Then join me in the New American Revolution. Here's the script.
THEM: Take off your shoes please.
YOU: I will NOT have sex with you in an airport! What the fuck is YOUR problem, creepo? Rape! Rape! HELP ME SOMEBODY!!!!
THEM: Has anybody unknown to you given anything to carry on board?
YOU: Uh, UNKNOWN to me, you say? Hey, uh, me and them go way, way back. Why, we was in Afghanistan together. Can't remember the name of the training camp. Al Kidda, Al Kieda, something like that. They say this odd-shaped clock they gave me will help make this trip a most memorable one. Anyway, why do you ask, dip-wad?
THEM: I'm going to have to confiscate this here paper clip.
YOU [grabbing paper clip and aiming it at security jerk]: Not today, buster! Don't try anything funny or I SWEAR you and everybody in this room is gonna DIE... because I got PAPER-CLIP POWER, y'unnerstahnn??? Now, just let me WALK ONTO THAT plane...and I'm taking the paper clip WITH me, okay...?
Etc.
See you in the hoosegow. I'll be the one gibbering and lurching.
--David M. Brown, 7/12/02
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