Hot Bodies Running the TSA's Gauntlet

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The latest
backlash against the TSA’s new groping procedures is finally reaching
a level of furor that is in proportion to the atrocious crimes we
have been subjected to since the government’s favorite excuse for
totalitarianism: 9/11.

I haven’t flown
much at all in the last few years because I figured if I did, sooner
or later I would end up in jail. You see, people who know me well
understand that I have no tolerance for any of this crappola being
dished out by the sick bastards running their abusive and criminal
pipelines at US airports. I have a mouth, and unfortunately for
me, I use it every bit as well as my keyboard. In the past, in response
to rude treatment from the TSA’s arrogant pricks, I have taunted
the crew-cutted, militaristic-looking weenie boy TSA agents and
their hoggish female counterparts, and accordingly, they have threatened
me (“we will not let you get on this plane”). I have done this in
front of traveling partners who were moderately frightened at my
lack of ability to go along, get along, and say “yes sir” and “thank
you sir.”

I raged back
in 2004 at the Detroit airport, when, while preparing to get on
an international flight, one of my best girlfriends had her luggage
searched and some grotesque-looking male with a deformed waistline
and a minimum of five chins started pulling tampons out of her Kotex
box, one by one. Our group (or at least I) almost didn’t make it
on the flight. In 2004 I wrote about my
eventful airport moment
spent evading the TSA after one of the
cattle from the herd went all fruitcake on me for leaving my bag
unattended.

Some people
have t-shirts that read, “doesn’t play well with others.”
I need one that says, “I’m a really nice person until you try
to control me.”

I really don’t
mean to be gross here, but rather, I like to think of the following
technique as being creative. Way back in time (1980s), when I was
attending rock concerts as a teenager or twenty-something, I latched
on to the unnecessary nature of the pointless searches being conducted
at the doors of government-owned concert venues, and I came to understand
why this was taking place. And at that time it was always guys searching
girls. The big thing for these guys was to search our purses. They’d
ask us to open them up (wide), and they’d stick their hands down
into the purse and rifle through all the items. These guys took
great pleasure in this activity, and they especially enjoyed the
appalled reactions from cute chicks.

Admittedly,
it was my soon-to-be sister-in-law who taught me the trick to put
an immediate stop to that nonsense: lay a dirty Kotex feminine pad
(even if the “used” look was faked) at the top of one’s purse, and
when the searcher opened up the purse … surprise! Would you like
to guess how quickly the guy got his slimy hands out of my purse?
I used that technique successfully for some time.

So here we
are, with the new TSA scheme for getting into the pants of people
who, for some odd reason, prefer privacy and a hands-off mentality
when it comes to their personal genitalia. Thus I want to comment
on all of the talk about hot chicks being subjected to greater scrutiny
from the preying eyes of the warped TSA mobsters. I can comment
on this because I am considered to be one of those chicks
with a “hot body.” I have experienced these rude and vomitous pigs
licking their ugly chops at me.

In the recent
past, when the TSA gangsters would see my buff, little body wearing
size zero pants coming up to the front of the line where you break
for an individual security line, they’d wave me toward the shortest
line (the porno scanner). I’d decline and head to a non-porno scanner
line, and at that time, the repercussion was minor, or none at all.
I layer my shirts often, and so I usually wear these really tight
(and very thin), colorful tank tops underneath my shirt that take
the place of a brassiere. They are not exterior shirts — they are
too thin and tight for my taste, and so I wear them as a bottom
layer, for color and style, and I wear some type of blouse or other
shirt over the top. Twice I have been asked to remove my blouse
— yes, my exterior clothes — because some scumbag who would
otherwise be unemployable in any job other than a minimum wage gig
got a look at my tight cover-up beneath my blouse and wanted to
see me strip down to give him a cheap thrill and humiliate me in
front of dozens of onlookers. Both times it was a man who told me
to remove my shirt. Both times I said “hell no, I’m not stripping
and walking through this line half-naked for you.” And each time
the piggish thug backed off.

Fortunately
for me, should I really want or need to fly, I live 19 miles from
one of the two Detroit-Windsor, Canada border crossings, and I work
four blocks from that spot. I’ll take my chances on a few quick
questions from a lame border guard and drive a couple of miles past
the border crossing to the Windsor airport. From there I can take
a 40-minute connecting flight to Toronto and go anywhere in the
world. The New Windsor Airport brands itself as the “hassle-free
alternative airport.”

Another alternative
is (yes, the government’s) train system. In spite of the incompetence
and the government’s lack of ability to run the trains on time,
I found the experience of riding overnight on a long trip in a private
car to be very pleasant and comfortable, as well as an interesting
adventure. The last time I took Amtrak they were in the process
of going “wired,” so I suspect that the trains have full Internet
by now. I know that security procedures on Amtrak have become more
rigid, but it is nothing like I have experienced in the airports.

In recent years
I have flown very little because of the buildup of the US totalitarian
terror state. But now, with the government's endorsement and deployment
of the humiliation-molester state, I know for certain that I will
be singled out, for my shapely body, at TSA checkpoints. Male misfits
will ogle me, or, as an alternative, I will be groped by overweight,
overpaid, revolting bulldykes. I came back from a California trip
right before the new TSA decrees, and I had already declared that
I would stop flying because I have had it with airports, airlines,
and flying. This new scheme will target me, and as such, I will
decline to offer myself up as a juicy tidbit for all of the grotesque
losers wearing cheap patches and a plastic badge.

November
24, 2010

Karen De
Coster [send her
mail
] is a libertarian accounting/finance professional
during the day, and she spends her personal time being a dissident
and writer. She writes about the TSA, the medical establishment,
Big Pharma, Big Agra, the Banksters, the Corporate State, health
totalitarianism, lifestyle fascism, bailout nation, the military-congressional-industrial-medical-pharmaceutical
complex, and essentially, anything that encroaches upon the freedom
of her fellow human beings. This is her LewRockwell.com
archive
and her Mises.org
archive
. Check out her
website
.

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