Jim Trainer

Confederacy of Fear

In Uncategorized on November 24, 2010 at 2:26 pm

(from I GOT FIRED FROM THE OIL COMPANIES AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY AMERICAN FLAG)

“10/30/07  When we arrived at the yard I met with the boss.  He deemed me “Unfit for Work Offshore” and told me to get the fuck out of the yard.  I spent 9 hours in Louis Armstrong National Airport that night only to have my wallet stolen, right under the watchful eye of TSA, before my 5am flight back to Hostile City.  I was told to sit and wait while TSA searched for my wallet.  I found an envelope with $1900 and a flight itinerary on the seat.  The wallet was never found.”

When I passed through security the first time, the metal chain on my wallet set the detectors off.  I was told to put my wallet in what looked like a doggy bowl.  I passed through again.  No problem.  I collected my things and waited for my wallet.

“You’re free to go.”, a female guard dismissed me.   Hardly.

“Not without my wallet.”

TSA lost my wallet in a space shorter than I am tall, somewhere on their conveyor belt, under video surveillance at a security checkpoint on October 30, 2007.

Don’t scrutinize the Transportation Security Administration for their policies.  They don’t make the rules.  Hijackers and terrorists do.  When Richard Reid failed to detonate the explosives in his shoes on American Airlines Flight 63, TSA started enforcing that passengers take off their shoes at their checkpoints.  When Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab failed to ignite his underwear on his way to Detroit last Christmas, TSA brilliantly decided to invest our hard-earned tax dollars on 300 full-body scanners to the tune of $130,000-$170,000 per unit.

Don’t expect Congress or any airport employees to understand or care either.  They don’t have to go through.  Well, maybe Ron Paul cares.  But don’t expect this new Congress to do anything other than discontinue Unemployment Benefits and maintain tax cuts for the rich before 2011.

Bitch and complain all you want.  One thing you cannot do is trust that this bureaucracy of half-wits will ensure your safety while flying in America.

Mischief Night is not a good night to be in post-Katrina New Orleans.  I’ll give you that.  Up until then, I thought apathy was a good strategy when it came to World Politics.  But when my forced participation in Security Theatre cost me my wallet and my Social Security card, I start to care about what my country is up to.  I get to thinking:  How am I any fucking safer?  And how is it that I am in fact LESS safe at the hands of these poseur Cops?

Opt-Out?

Sure.  The whole fucking deal.  I Opt-Out of the Whole Fucking Deal.  How’s that?

See you on the train, motherfuckers.

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  1. […] took me to a place called Out Tha Box up the road from the yard. He introduced me to Coconut, the Filipino barmaid.  I had two Buds and a chili dog before I was […]

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