The power of III

Summum ius summa iniuria--More law, less justice

04 August 2011

Welcome to the Gulag, my friends

"Turn your head to the left, and cough."
Verbatim post:

I just opted out of the porno fucking scanner at Detroit Airport, and I was molested by a female agent of the totalitarian state. She put her hands into my pants (INTO), grabbed my boobs, felt my vagina, and checked me over in every nook and cranny. She even spent an inordinate amount of time unraveling my shirt collar and playing with it. My traveling companion – who has traveled very little in recent years – looked on in horror. I took the smartass approach most of the way. This truly was a sexual violation.

Welcome to the gulag, my friends.

I intentionally snuck over to the line with old-fashioned metal detector scanner thing, as always. Three or four folks in front of me went through unimpeded. As soon as I stepped up, the man pointed at me and then pointed at the porno scanner. I said “no way.” The calls went out: “Female assistance needed! Female assistance needed!” They made me wait ten minutes, and of course, the gal asked if I wanted a private room. I said nope, I want everyone to see this*.
I must admit – I had a female agent that was probably as good as one is going to get at the TSA. She was a “Mom” type, and not one of these Janet Napolitano clones who are suited well for jack boots and male trousers. She actually seemed uncomfortable doing it.

As to the question of what to do should you find yourself in this position – absolutely, and always, opt out of the tactic to control you and keep you at bay. Chertoff’s porno scanners are not only perilous to your health – that is, if you value great health – but they are the state’s reminder that your freedom is a privilege that it arbitrarily hands out on occasion, and don’t you dare forget it.

8/4/2011, Karen DeCoster

(*emphasis added. Also, wondering if the female TSA agent felt balls, cause this lady's got a pair)

1 comment:

  1. My wife and I haven't flown since 2002 or 2003 (b-i-l's funeral). Color me weird, but I wouldn't fly commercial if it was necessary to save my own life. I'd have to think long and hard before I would even consider doing it to save my wife's life, but fortunately, I cannot come up with a scenario where it would be necessary to do that. Family sickness or funeral's, I'll drive.

    If it gets to where I am not allowed to drive without radiation and/or molestation, and permission, I won't drive - I'll shoot. That will be one of my true lines in the sand, for sure. At sixty, I don't value life so much that I would be willing to submit to that extent. That isn't bravado, it is simply as far as I am willing to bend over.