The Government in Your Underwear

Mack Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

The Government in Your Underwear

Suppose that you were in World War II. Or perhaps in Korea, Lebanon, Viet-Nam, Iraq, Afghanistan, or some bleak air base along the Arctic circle, or hazarding yourself in a patrol plane or aboard a destroyer between here and Cuba during one of Kruschev and Castro’s giddier moments. Or suppose that you are an ordinary working American – and you surely are – who goes off to work most days. You pay your taxes, rake your leaves, and try to save enough to take the rug-rats to Disney World before they grow up. Your encounters with the awful majesty of the law are limited to a speeding ticket from Al Caldwell’s friend Officer Fatback.

Why, then, should you, before boarding an aircraft to take your kids on that long-promised adventure to Disney World, be forced to take off your shoes, empty your pockets, be zapped with nudity rays by blinking, hooting, beeping machines designed by Captain Nemo, raise your hands in surrender, and suffer the gropings of the Roderick Spodes of the Transportation Security Administration?

In sum, why is the ordinary American presumed by his own government to be the enemy?

Security on airplanes, trains, buses, and ships is not trivial matter in a time of war, and just now we cannot expect to board a vessel as blithely as folks did as recently as the 1970s. Even so, why are the OGPU assigned to make our transit secure so focused on humiliating Americans?

Not so long ago airport security apologetically looked through your carry-on bag and wished you a safe journey. Because of The Religion of Peace and their exploding panties security has become more intense, and rightly so, but why have TSA personnel become so hostile to the traveling public? Is freedom of movement a matter of suspicion?

Our democratically-elected government has, for our safety, forbidden us to travel with nail clippers, shampoo bottles, or one of those itty-bitty Swiss Army knives, and requires us to eat our airline meals – provided you can get one – with flimsy, brittle flatware. Our democratically-elected government has dictated that Americans cannot be trusted with nail clippers, shampoo, pocketknives, or even a usable fork and (eek!) knife.

We Americans who could once travel freely within the borders of our own country are now subjected to strange radiation from strange machines and fondling from strange people. And these strange people yell a great deal, slam our possessions around, and don’t wash between gropings.

Excuse me for asking, dear elected government, but shouldn’t the TSA be going after evil people instead of functional dinner forks and our grandmothers?

TSA and this family newspaper leave you with some random thoughts for this new age of luxury air travel:

Briefs? Or boxers?

When ink cartridges are outlawed, only outlaws will have ink cartridges.

When panties are outlawed, only outlaws will have panties.

America – love it or get nekkid on TSA tellyvision in order to leave it.

Fourth Amendment? What’s that?

Work harder – thousands of TSA functionaries depend on you to pay them to humiliate you and your children.

Show me your papers and your body parts, comrade.

Abandon dignity all ye who enter here.

Be nice to the TSA guy touchy-feely-ing your children; he’s going to choose your cell.

Keep your shirt on, pal – until Security Officer Igor lovingly tells you to take it off.

Don’t get your panties in a twist; the TSA will do that for you.

And if you’re boarding Aer Lingus – it’s a thong way to Tipperary.

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