Where Do You Think You’re Going, Bud?
by
Sean Corrigan
In
something straight out of the most dystopian science fiction novel,
the Washington Times carries the tale that the pointy-heads
at NASA are planning to scan the thoughts of airline passengers
while they are waiting in line to have their physical privacy invaded
by uniformed jobsworths and socially-retarded Guardsmen at the nation’s
airports, all, of course, in the name of the War on Terra (sorry,
‘Terror’!)
According
to the article, NASA wants to use ‘noninvasive neuro-electric sensors,
imbedded in gates, (no, not ‘Gates’) to collect tiny electric signals
that all brains and hearts transmit. Computers would apply statistical
algorithms to correlate physiologic patterns with computerized data
on travel routines, criminal background and credit information from
hundreds to thousands of data sources’.
We
like that ‘non-invasive’ bit.
It’s
reassuring to know that this most invasive of procedures actually
leaves our craniums intact (until the Goons come to crack our skulls
when they read our mutinous minds, at least) otherwise what chance
would poor old United Airlines and its peers have of staving off
bankruptcy, if every would-be passenger was to be subject, not just
to a quick bout of amateur proctology, but also to a round of Trepanning-While-U-Wait.
Now,
there is, of course, a serious issue at stake here of whether Thought
– however vile we deem it should be subject to the same violent
state sanctions as Action, though, unfortunately, the institution
of various politically-correct categories of ‘Hate Crime’ (a wonderfully
Orwellian phrase in itself) took us across that particular Rubicon
long before the Reichstag burned down last year.
However,
this does have its ridiculous angle as well – as does so much po-faced
totalitarianism emanating from our leaders these days.
We
wonder if the next round of Al-Qaeda wannabes, down there at CIA
flight school, will be subjected to endless reruns of Ghostbusters
as they train to avoid the scan (‘Allah preserve us! Not the Stay-Puft
Marshmallow Man again!’)
Or
what happens when a couple of randy, far-from home business execs
start eyeing up the comely shape of the ticketing clerk? Do our
corporate warriors get hosed down in a cold shower on the way to
the nearest correctional facility for having too graphic an imagination?
(OK,
OK. I know there are no Miss Universe candidates among today’s budget
airlines crew. A man can dream can’t he? Or, is that to be banned,
too!)
Worse,
when we arrive – minus our luggage – with three screaming kids and
a carping spouse (‘I told you to book American, My mother always
flies with them and she NEVER has any trouble!’) i.e. in not the
sunniest of dispositions will we be hauled off to Guantanemo sine
die simply for considering telling the officious busybody who asks
to see them for the thirteenth time, just exactly what he CAN do
with our claim checks?
Looking
on the bright side, who needs civil liberties when we can now instantly
put the whole accountancy profession (‘profession’ as in ‘they don’t
do it for love’) out of business?
For,
if NASA hadn’t been tardy and overbudget (and not messed up its
inches and centimetres), as usual, all we would’ve had to do was
to run the silico-neuronal transmogrification device over Bernie
Ebbers’ head and we’d all have known he was wrongly capitalizing
$7 billion-and-counting in expenses before you could say ‘Dick Cheney
told me how to do it’.
Indeed,
the potential for this device on CNBC would have a frustrated stock
bear drooling, as the ‘analysts’ and CFOs kept scoring three cherries
on the Charlatan-ometer. Or then again perhaps not. After all, even
thinking bearish thoughts will be akin to short-selling soon and
that will be enough to have us carted off in a tumbrel for Crimes
against the State.
Ah
well. Who are we to impede the march (jackbooted, naturally) of
progress? Just so long as we don’t take this marvel inside the beltway
itself.
For
if the gizmos can "detect passengers who potentially might pose
a threat" to a piddly little airliner, how is it going to cope
with Donald ‘Darth’ Rumsfeld, Richard ‘Prince of Darkness’ Perle,
or his pet lycanthope, Paul Wolfowitz, who each pose a verifiable
threat to the whole planet?!?
Worse,
still. Imagine the embarrassment when the Commander-in-Chief goes
by and the machine blows a fuse in its vain attempt to detect any
signal at all? (I Know. Cheap shot!)
Just
keep saying to yourself, ‘The Land of the Free and the Home of the
Brave. The Land of the Free
’
You
never know – the RoboFeds might just let you on the plane to go
about your lawful business unharmed
August
22, 2002
Sean
Corrigan [send him mail]
writes from London on the financial markets, and edits the daily
Capital Letter
and the Website Capital
Insight.
Copyright
© 2002 LewRockwell.com
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