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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 |