Now That You’ve Seen My Bum, May I Have A
Complimentary Inflight Cocktail?

So do I have this right? Some mouthbreather from Nigeria lands in Detroit on Christmas Day on a flight from Amsterdam with explosives pasted to his crotch and therefore, next week, before I board a plane at Toronto’s Pearson Airport, a bunch of strangers wearing rent-a-cop uniforms get to peek at my private parts?!? Geez, can anybody get in on this deal or do you need a valid passport?
Does this sound logical to anyone except those panic-stricken geniuses at America’s Department of Homeland Security?
What they should have done with the Underwear Bomber is follow routine procedure when it comes to suspected bombs. They should have had him walk a safe distance from the plane then detonate the explosive material by remote control while it was still attached to Umar Farouk Abdullmutallab’s package. (I’d have done the same thing with Richard Reid, the Shoe Bomber, but I’d have given him a bit of a head start just for fun.)
And you know who should also face the penalty of death? The security officer at Pearson who while scanning me naked on the computer screen chuckles, nudges his buddy and says “Hey, check this one out.” That’s the other guy who should die in this whole fear-driven fiasco.
The next time you enter an airport and you see a couple of really creepy guys squatting on the curb and holding signs that say: “Will work the scanner for free”, remember, I was against this from the get-go.
Remember when flying was fun? Flight attendants greeted you like a customer instead of an insurgent in civilian clothes. Remember when scanners were used to detect your second or third bottle of contraband Scotch.
I used to look forward to flying – a glass of wine, a great book, a really bad movie.
Now I have to put all my liquids in a ziplock bag, donate my bottle of water to the security guard, undo my belt, take off my shoes and pretend to be thankful for their concern for my safety.
Once on board, I can no longer get a pillow or a blanket or watch the GPS tracking of the plane on the TV screen. I cannot use a computer, I cannot visit the washroom in the last hour of the flight and my hands must be visible at all times. Nothing on the lap whatsoever and that
better include Quantas flight attendants straddling actor Ralph Fiennes at 35,000 ft.
And as a kind of reward for being a good sport about it all, they snap the one-inch file off my nail clippers and confiscate my walking stick.
And now they’re going to virtually strip me naked in public because of some, chemical-carrying nutbar whose own father turned him in to U.S. authorities but he somehow fell through the cracks of Homeland Security?!?
Janet Napolitano, the head of Homeland Security was all warm and fuzzy after the Underwear Bomber failed to ignite two chemicals that would have exploded, thereby assuring the world at the very least he could never reproduce.
Napolitano gushed that the capture of Abdullmutallab proved that the system worked perfectly. Everything was just peachy. That is, until her boss, President Obama called the incident a “systematic failure” and ordered a massive investigation which unfortunately did not result in the firing of highly incompetent Napolitano. This is the same woman who has claimed on more than one occasion that the 911 terrorists entered the United States through Canada. This is a lie that unfortunately many Americans still cling to.
How many people could keep their jobs after making two, let alone one of these monumental blunders?
In the days following the arrest of Underwear Umar, Michael Chertoff, no longer the head of Homeland Security made the rounds of talk shows first ramping up the fear factor and then offering the ultimate answer to airline security – the full-body scanner. Homeland Security went into full panic mode ordering 300 full-body scanners and forcing allies like Canada to deploy them in their airports. Bingo, no more terrorists on board airplanes. Two problems. First, Michael Chertoff didn’t quite reveal the fact he is a paid lobbyist for Rapiscan Systems, the company that makes the scanner and second, the machines likely don’t work. Explosives may be attached to the body in ways that could circumvent the camera or placed in orifices or
under the skin or between the breasts of large women. The fact is Homeland Security doesn’t know. They bought Chertoff’s sales pitch without independently testing the machines.
Before Chertoff’s pecker checker machine, Homeland Security brainchild was the “puffer.” This apparatus emitted a puff of air onto the passenger thereby dislodging trace amounts of any explosive material on the body or clothes. Bingo, you got yourself a terrorist. Homeland Security spent $30 million on puffers and rushed them into service at 36 airports only to discover they didn’t work. They bought the manufacturer’s sales pitch instead of actually independently testing the machines. CBS employees sprayed their clothes with explosive liquids and made it past the puffers every time.
Experts, those not in a position to make tons of money from their recommendations agree the answers to airline security are good questions and smart dogs.
“Are you a terrorist?”
“No? Here’s a photo of Osama bin Laden. Would you mind spitting on it for me?”
The keen nose of an explosive sniffingdog is an airline passenger’s best friend. And what dog doesn’t love sticking that inquiring nose in all the places a would-be terrorist might hid chemicals, especially the crotch.
Today, terrorism fuels the fear machine that drives American disingenuous ingenuity. It’s more about making millions then protecting thousands.
Next time they have you virtually naked on the screen of an airport scanner, give them the honest passenger salute. Turn your back to the scanner and bend over.
For comments, ideas and copies of The True Story of Wainfleet, go to www.williamthomas.cas